A/N: Last chapter, everyone. I know, it's sad. Not much to say about this chapter...Greg drops the f-bomb once, and there's a spoiler for the Pilot of CSI: and some other episode that I'm too lazy to figure out what it is. It's from season two, I think, and it's one line, so... Other than that, pretty much straight up. The first italicized paragraph is from the last chapter. Please read and review!
"And this autumn air reminds
How things all slowly unwind
Changing times have been unkind
To you
As these days they slip away
We grow closer to our graves
Had the best time of my life
Without you"
Greg lunged forward and pulled Ryan into a harsh, strong kiss, putting all the passion and anger and fear and longing into that one kiss. When it finished, they broke apart, but no more than an inch, Ryan's green eyes matching Greg's brown ones.
"No," said Ryan softly, pulling further away.
Clearly frustrated, Greg asked, his voice a forced calm, "What do you mean, no?"
Ryan sat up and said calmly, "No. Not this, not again. The physical chemistry between us is as strong as it has always been, Greg, but that's never been our problem. There is too much that we need to work on before we can start this again."
Now Greg didn't bother hiding his frustration as he snapped, "What do you want me to do, Ryan? I have given you my word that what has happened will never happen again. Why isn't that good enough for you?"
"Because you're an addict." Ryan's voice shook slightly, but he kept going. "And addicts lie to keep their addiction hidden. I'm sorry," he added, eyes burdened with his heartache. "Truly I am. But I can't do this when you're like this. I won't."
Greg's voice was tinged with desperation as he begged, "Tell me what you want, and I will do it. Tell me what you need from me and I will cross this entire world to get it so that we can be together and happy."
"I need you to get help. If you really truly want us to be together, you will get help so that we can be. I need you to be completely sober and completely clean, and then we can see about making this work, again." He stood up. "I'm willing to do this, Greg, but only if you are. I am willing to wait for you, however long it might take, if you are willing to step up and get help getting over and working through your problems."
He began to head towards the door, but Greg's voice called after him, "Wait! Where are you going?"
Taking a deep breath, Ryan turned back to him, his voice steady, even as his heart pounded wildly. "I'm leaving. I'm going back to Miami. You may have been the one to walk away in the past, but this time, I am."
"What?" Greg's voice cracked, and he looked lost, like a broken man, sitting on the bed staring up at Ryan. "You're leaving me? But I've only just gotten you back. You can't go now."
Ryan's eyes were wet with tears, and he whispered harshly, "I have to. My God, Greg, can't you see what this is doing to me? I love you with every molecule of my being, but seeing you like this hurts me deeper than you can even understand."
He paused and took a second to compose himself. "Once you understand," he continued, though he couldn't meet Greg's eyes, "once you realize that you have to get your life on track, and once you do it, once you get clean for good, then you can come find me. Then you can come to Miami and be with me for the rest of our lives. Until then, I can't be with you. I won't be with you."
Pausing for just one second more, he suddenly darted back to the bed and pulled Greg into a deep, if brief, kiss. "Come find me," he whispered again, eyes searching Greg's. "I'll be waiting for you; I swear it."
And with that said, he left, not even looking over his shoulder as the door shut behind him. He made it back to his and H's room, managed to throw his things in his bag and leave a note for Horatio explaining where he had gone. He took an elevator to the lobby, went outside, hailed a cab and calmly told the cabby to take him to O'Hare.
It was only then that he allowed himself to cry.
Horatio took a sip of orange juice and ate the last bit of his bagel before setting down the newspaper and stretching. Grissom walked slowly up to his table, forehead already furrowed. "Horatio," sighed Grissom tiredly. "I read Ryan's note."
"Good," said Horatio, draining his orange juice. "Then you understand what's currently going on. I didn't want to have to try and explain it to you."
Taking a seat at the table with H, Grissom rested his chin on his hand, eyes questioning. "Did you talk to Ryan after he left?"
Horatio nodded once. "Yes. He called me from the airport to tell me that he was taking the 8:20 back to Miami. He…he sounded determined," he said wearily. "I don't think any of us will be able to change his mind on this one."
"No," agreed Grissom. "His note sounded very resolute, and from what I've seen, Ryan isn't one to be swayed easily." He paused. "We failed didn't we? It's not something I'm used to saying, but it's true. What we came here to accomplish didn't get accomplished."
Horatio was silent for a long time, his eyes thoughtful. "No, Mr. Grissom, we did not succeed in what we attempted to do. You are right in that aspect."
Grunting in agreement, Grissom asked, "Will you be going back to Miami, then? There can't be anything left here for you to do."
"Yes, I will be heading back to Miami later today. I'll probably leave for the airport in an hour or so." Pausing, he asked Grissom quietly, "What will you do?"
Grissom shrugged, clearly unhappy. "I'll take Greg back to Las Vegas, and we'll deal with what we have to deal with there, I guess. We both have enough vacation time stored up that I'll stay with him through rehab if I must."
Horatio nodded. "That will be good for him," he remarked. "He'll need someone there for him, now more than ever." Pausing, he added awkwardly, "Remember to tell Greg that the job for him in Miami is still his, if ever he wants to come back for it."
Nodding as well, Grissom said quietly, "Good luck back in Miami, Horatio."
"Godspeed, Mr. Grissom," said Horatio, putting his sunglasses on. "Godspeed."
Grissom paused outside of Greg's door, not wanting to disturb the man, but knowing that plans had to be made to go back to Vegas. Horatio had just left not fifteen minutes ago, and Grissom knew that there was nothing keeping Greg in Chicago besides memories. Bracing himself, Grissom knocked briskly on the door. "Greg?" he called softly, hoping that Greg had heard him.
A minute or so later, Greg opened the door. He was still dressed in his clothes from the day before, and his hair bore the telltale signs of sleep. His face was pale, too pale, his eyes surrounded by dark circles, and he moved slowly, as if in shock. "Grissom," he said softly. "Come in."
He shuffled towards the bed and sat down, staring blankly at the wall. "I suppose Horatio told you," he said mildly, no emotion in his voice.
"Yes," said Grissom, sitting down in the armchair and watching Greg closely. "I'm so sorry, Greg. We all really wanted this to work."
Greg was silent for a few moments before he asked suddenly, "You don't think I'm an addict, do you?"
Grissom was taken aback by the suddenness of the question, and he took a few moments before answering. "Greg," he began, but Greg cut him off.
"You do, don't you?" he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them to him, eyes full of tears. "You all think that I'm an addict, to drugs or alcohol or whatever. But I'm not. I'm not like Warrick when he was addicted to gambling. I didn't cause anyone to die."
"No, but you lost the best thing that had ever happened to you, didn't you?" snapped Grissom. "You let it get in the way of the love of your life, and you may never get him back"
Greg froze, eyes sparkling with tears, and for one second, Grissom was afraid that he'd pushed Greg over the edge. Then Greg said softly, "I did, didn't I? I fucked up royally."
He sat in silence, mulling this over in his head. "Ryan told me to come find him when I was clean," he said finally, looking up at Grissom. "And I intend to." His eyes shone with a fierce light that Grissom hadn't seen there in a long time, and for the first time since Greg came back from Miami, he looked alive again. "I will go back to Miami, and I will fight for Ryan with everything I have. Even if it takes me the rest of my God-given life, I will win him back."
Grissom looked at Greg closely, and all he saw was the same determination that had driven the younger man from the lab and into the field, and even the same determination that led him to find DNA where no DNA could be found. "What will you do, then?"
"There's a clinic," started Greg, then he broke off, embarrassed. "Rehab. North of Miami. I, uh, I did some research on it. For a case. It looks really nice. They use a lot of different methods…one that I'd like to try, using surfing to heal." He looked up at Grissom, eyes filled with tears again. "I can't go back to Las Vegas, Griss. You know that."
Grissom gripped Greg's shoulder and he said gently, "Greg, I knew that ever since you came back to Vegas the first time. Miami is your home now, and you belong there, with Ryan." Pausing, he added softly, "We'll all miss you in Vegas, but we all understand, too. After all, 'True love is like rain; it touches all who see it.'"
Greg looked up at Grissom and nodded, tears beginning to stream down his face. "I feel like this is the end, Griss, like I'll never see you guys again."
"To make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from," quoted Grissom. "T.S. Eliot." He gripped Greg in a rare hug and said quietly, "Greg, you have to concentrate on your future with Ryan now. That doesn't mean that you can't call or write or visit, but you have to look to the future."
They broke apart and Greg wiped his cheeks and grinned shakily. "Thank you, Grissom," he said, smiling his first real smile in days. "For everything. Even for this miserable, ass-backwards trip to Chicago. Only a true friend would go through this with me."
Grissom smiled. "Go and get Ryan back, Greg. You deserve happiness."
"Yeah," agreed Greg, a small smile forming on his face. "Yeah, I guess I do. And we will be happy, one way or another. It may take a long, long time, but we're going to be alright in the end."
He began to pack up his things. Grissom helped him, both men working in comfortable silence. When they had finally finished, Greg turned to Grissom and gave him a quick hug. "We only part to meet again," he quoted. "John Gay." When Grissom gave him a strange look, he shrugged, a smile breaking out on to his face. "I'm a sponge, remember? I absorb things."
Grissom shook his head, smiling widely. "I remember, Greg. I remember."
Shouldering his bag, Greg headed to the door. Pausing, he turned back and said quietly, "Good-bye, Grissom. Thank you."
Then he was gone, through the door and down the hall, walking tall like a man who was finally on his way to where he belonged. Grissom sat down on the bed, a smile beginning to form on his face as well. Still smiling, Grissom pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.
"Horatio Caine."
"A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it," said Grissom, grinning like an idiot. "George Moore."
Horatio paused before asking, "What does that mean?"
"That means he's going home," said Grissom. "Greg is going home."
A/N (pt.2): Well. That's that. Thank you to everyone who reviewed: Kate McT, Dark Angel's Blue Fire, Shadowfax27, Wolflady, AFreakInside, SweetLittleCat, Chase Me, madden, Little Artemis, beckybabe, Iluv-the-o.c001, kitsune, kitty, Beaglicious, Marblez, Cassio, klnolan, BlackIceNinja, Lady arcane, Redpixie55, Yahari, Trix are for kids., Kat1132. Thanks also to everyone who alerted or favorited this story, or just anyone who read it.
Look for the sequel coming out sometime in August (I'll be gone in Ireland for awhile), tentatively titled "I Will Always Return".
Once again, thanks everyone.