Fanfiction | CSI & Heroes | Family Affair | Chapter VI
Title: Family Affair ~ Chapter 6/?
Author: frickangel
Fandoms: CSI/Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When the reality sets in, the fantasy dies. The Sanders family takes care of each other no matter what.
Characters: Greg Sanders (CSI), Gil Grissom (CSI), D.L. Hawkins (Heroes), and Niki & Micah Sanders (Heroes).
Pairings: None.
Timeline: Just after ‘Distractions’ for Heroes.
A/N: I’ll wait until the full season of Heroes is completed before continuing on with this fic. Mainly due to see where it’s headed and so I can write Greg into the plot. It also means it’ll go AU for CSI, and possibly a wee bit for Heroes later on.
Warning: Un-beta’d
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t know, and don’t I wish.
Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six
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There was no denying just how exhausted he felt. Lying on his back and staring at the ceiling of the locker room, he discovered the hardness of the bench didn’t bother him no matter how uncomfortable it was. So long as he was stretched out and not standing; not caring about the world outside, and facing the paranoia and fear surrounding his choice.
Shifting slightly, he raised his hand over and out, blocking the soft fluorescent light and allowing a few rays to pass through his fingers, leaving an odd shadow on his face. Greg wasn’t just tired physically-double shifts will do that to anyone-but the nightmare with Niki was wearing him thin mentally.
“Greg?”
He snatched his hand back from the air and found his supervisor staring straight at him with a peculiar look of suspicion.
Did he find out?
“Yeah?” He said weakly, but cleared his throat before trying again, “What’s up?”
“You okay?”
Realising he was still lying down; Greg struggled a little to sit up straight, his aching muscles protested against every move. “I’m good,” he replied before glancing at Grissom who seemed to be summing him up over glasses that were perched dangerously at the edge of his nose. The older man didn’t seem to believe the words from Greg. “Got a case for me?” he tried desperately to sway the topic somewhere else, somewhere safer.
Grissom shuffled through a few assignment sheets in his hands, choosing one, and then holding it out towards Greg. Just as the younger CSI was about to accept it, Grissom pulled it back and was wearing the same expression of doubt, “Niki was released today, wasn’t she?”
This was exactly where Greg didn’t want the conversation going, “This afternoon.”
“You’ve seen her yet?”
He shook his head and glanced sideways towards the ground, “Pulled a double.”
There was a pursing of lips from Grissom, again looking as if he was trying to see past Greg. For a while, in the silence, Greg was frightened that Grissom would be able to read his mind and just simply pick out the wrong he did, like selecting a book from a shelf. But to his pure relief, the supervisor merely sighed and cocked his head to the side a little, “Take the night off, Greg. Go see her.”
“But-”
“Go.”
Without offering him a chance to debate it any longer, Grissom shot Greg one last commanding look and turned to leave. As he exited, Greg could see a svelte blonde walking directly into Grissom’s path just as they began a conversation; it was like they had rehearsed the scene many times before.
“Cath, 415-B at the Hahaha.”
The words droned off as the two figures moved away from Greg, while he sat there and remained staring at the outside world for a bit, just watching everyone walk along and drift off into their guilt free lives.
Running his hands over his weary face, he took one long breath, stood up, and snatched his jacket from the locker. The slam of the metal door echoed through the room as Greg left, leaving only emptiness in it.
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Normalcy was overrated sometimes-or most of the times.
Standing on the front porch, knocking once on the door while he stared into the neatly trimmed lawn, everything seemed perfectly as it should be. After all, it’s only common for family to drop by for a visit. That is, if one excludes the part about how the two adults of the house were once jailed, and the youngest having super-abilities.
Sure. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Hey,” he greeted the tall African-American with a smile as he threw open the door.
“Greg,” D.L. replied curtly, one of his arms was leaning against the frame, like some symbolic meaning of protection and to show Greg he wasn’t really welcomed.
“Just here to see if Niki’s all right.”
“She’s fine.”
This is how it had been for the past 12 years. Simple enough really; D.L. playing the overprotective husband and father, always believing that their family needed no outside help or interruptions, not unless Niki wanted it. But when it came to Greg, Niki insisted that he’d be around for almost everything and anything, which only made Greg seem more like a threat in D.L.’s eyes.
Though today, the ice seemed thicker. “Please, D.L., I just want to talk to her for a while.”
A sigh escaped his lips, and he appeared just as tired as Greg was in this whole ordeal, maybe even more, “I’ll go get her.”
“Thanks.”
There was no response of acknowledgement from him, but at least D.L. hadn’t slammed the door in Greg’s face this time. Just as the CSI was left in the slight chill of the night, his lonesomeness was short lived by the appearance of the precocious ten-year old.
“Greg!” he yelled quietly and grinned from ear to ear. Standing in place of where D.L. once had taken, he watched as Greg crouched down to Micah’s height. “Mom’s home!” the excitement in his voice was hard to miss, not to mention the look of utter contentment and joy that was worn on his face. For a brief moment, Greg found that it was all worth it, at least for Micah.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Just need say a few words and-”
Micah interrupted Greg’s explanation, not bothering to hear the rest of it, “We’re having game night, wanna join?”
Caught between a grimace and a smile, it was hard trying to find a softer way of saying ‘no’ to the kid. “I err…”
“It’s okay,” Micah shrugged but was still smiling, though this time he truly looked happy and wasn’t just putting on a show. “Oh, I’ve got something for you.”
“Really?” Greg asked, truly puzzled by all of this. From any other 10-year old, he would’ve been worried the ‘something’ might be frogs half buried in green mud, or anything else that most would cringe at and go scurrying for disinfectant. Then again, this was Micah and he had definitely skipped the age of frog hunting-thankfully.
Watching as the small figure disappear out of sight and into the house, Greg remained outside and waited patiently. He shifted a little from one foot to the other while staring out into the silent neighbourhood. Above him, the dark skies held only a few stars that watched over them, not one cloud could be seen.
“Here.”
Feeling the smooth object being thrust into his hands, Greg glanced down at Micah’s offering as its heavy weight burdened Greg’s grasp. “What’s this?” he pulled it closer to his face for inspection, reading the white bold words printed across the blue and glossy hardcover.
‘Activating Evolution.’
“It’s a book that I found,” there was another kind of excitement in Micah’s voice, one that Greg had heard before; it was in the car just as he repaired the broken watch with a single touch.
“This doesn’t look like something you’d find in a school library,” Greg flipped through the pages, casually glancing at the pages that were marked with yellow post-its. Written on those pieces of markings were in Micah’s handwriting, words like ‘Mom’, ‘Dad’, ‘me’, and then towards the end ‘Greg’.
“Of course not. Found this at a nearby public library. Here…” he excitedly pointed to a page he had bookmarked. “It says that some people are born geniuses with bigger possibilities that they might be able to do more than just solve algebra.”
“If you’re talking about yourself, buddy, I already know you’re a genius.”
“I’m talking about you, Greg!”
He blinked once, then twice before thinking about his reply, “I’m just guy who got lucky in exams. Did you understand everything in this book?” Greg tried shovelling the subject ahead, not wanting to dwell on the boy’s thoughts of grandeur.
“Not all,” Micah bashfully confessed and began flipping through the thick pages for Greg. “This one even has stuff on walking through walls-I think it’s called phasing and then there’s one about super-strength. There’s even stuff about regeneration, human-flight, telekinesis-”
Sounds like a huge comic book fest.
“Micah?” A soft, but definitely male voice from inside was summoning for the kid, and both Greg and Micah knew who it was.
“Better go; your dad’s calling,” Greg prompted while offering the book back.
“Keep that,” Micah answered and then paused before frowning a little. “For a month, ‘cause that’s how long I got it loaned for.” Giving one last smile, he bounded back in and left Greg with the heavy book.
Sighing at how his illusions of normalcy were slowly fading away, Greg headed back to his Denali, threw the book in the passenger seat, and closed the door. Just as he was returning back to the front porch, he spotted the attractive blonde emerge from within. Her hair was still wet from a shower, and she was wearing a thick woolly cardigan. It certainly was a huge improvement over the orange overalls when they last met. “Welcome home,” his hands were outstretched sideways, as if presenting the outside world and all its glory to her.
The shiver he felt run down his spine wasn’t from the Las Vegas cold, but rather from some icy aura he thought he caught in her eyes. “You’re a little late,” the warmth returned as did her soothing laugh.
Maybe he had imagined it.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he shot a sheepish smile. “Yeah, work and… stuff,” he stopped himself before venturing into the word ‘murder’. It was still a sore subject for them.
The pathway to the doorstep was abandoned as they both met in the middle of the lawn. He noted that she was in flip-flops and wondered if the wet grass was bothering her much, while on the other hand, his feet were feeling a little damp from the cold. Converses were good for only a certain amount of warmness.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she said assuredly and crossed her arms, her sight darting down to the ground before surveying the area around them.
“How’s everything?”
“Good,” she answered immediately before pushing a strand of wet hair out of the way.
For some reason, the paranoia was beginning to build again inside, wondering if the reason why Niki was so abrupt was because she knew. It had taken some careful planning on Greg’s side, sorting out the details because all Malsky did was supply a simple DNA sample. Everything else after that was up to Greg, even if he had gotten caught, there was no one to take the blame but him alone.
“D.L.’s trying to find a stable job, and I’m trying too,” Niki continued after a long pause. “Getting back on our feet is going to be tough but we’re working there.”
But that wasn’t it. There was something else hidden behind the curtain of mystery that Niki was holding.
“That’s great,” Greg tried to sound convincing, though all that he ended up with was too much enthusiasm that yelled ‘fake!’ without the need of it to be spoken. To cover up for his embarrassment, he allowed a chuckle to escape his lips that later died into the quiet night. And that’s how it went for the longest seconds ever; the two of them standing on the green land and not speaking.
“Thank you,” she moved forward and threw her arms around Greg, drawing him into a hug that should’ve conveyed emotions than a million words could. But those words were delivered all right, just that the message was different from that which was expected. He had tried telling himself that he was just over-sensitive; feeling the awkwardness when there was nothing at all.
Slowly he laid his hands on her back before carefully pushing her away; believing that any rough movements would awake the slumbering beast.
“Where’s Niki?” he asked in a soft voice, not daring to look at her.
He couldn’t lie anymore.
“What?” She answered the question with another question, her brow furrowed in apparent confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Where’s Niki, Jessica?”
It was amazing how fast the mirage faded before his eyes. The gentleness of Niki suddenly melted away revealing the sub-zero stare that was Jessica. “She’s fine.”
“That’s not really an answer,” he swallowed hard, realising who this person really was: a cold blooded killer. “Let Niki back.”
“You’re not in any position to debate, Greg,” she said his name dripping with venomous sarcasm, something which Greg winced at as he backed away a little. Jessica kept her stare upon him, stepping forward with every retreating step he took. “You think you’re better than all of us? Just because we’re the freaks and you’re… what? Some regular Joe working for the idiotic government?”
“The only freak is you, Jessica,” he could feel the numbness overtaking the tips of his fingers, causing them to shake. Folding his hands into fists was all he could do to hide his fear; he pressed his lips into a thin line, “You killed all those men.”
She snuffed at the words, looking to the side before glaring again at Greg. “You’re no angel yourself as far as I know. You’re just like us all. You’re just as…” she said calmly but with a feral sort of sneer to it, “…special.” Slowly, the sneer turned into a smile, not one of love or kindness but the kind that spoke volumes of sinister and maliciousness.
“I am not you.”
“No one could be like me,” Jessica laughed and smacked her lips in thought. “I’m just saying Linderman wouldn’t have called on you if he didn’t think you’d be an important piece.”
This time, Greg was truly surprised, “You know about Linderman?”
“Of course I know, Greg,” she said matter-of-factly before the smile completely vanished. “I was the one who made the deal.”
“You dragged me into this-”
“Oh, please,” Jessica inched so much closer, almost nose to nose, that he could catch the scent of her shampoo. “You did this for Niki and for Micah, and if it wasn’t for me, Niki would still be stuck in that godforsaken prison and on her way to the electric chair. Micah and D.L. would’ve been struggling still, while you’d be tearing yourself up with guilt. It was a sad and pathetic scene and I had to fix it.”
Greg would have moved farther away, but he was already backed up against the Denali. The smooth surface of the car sent chilling goose bumps coursing through Greg. “This isn’t fixing anything; you’re just forcing everyone deeper into trouble, Jessica.”
“I saw a chance and I grabbed it,” she backed away a little, just to look at Greg from head to toe. “And to think Linderman wants you,” the smile returned as she shook her head.
“I don’t own anything that Linderman needs and he doesn’t own me,” Greg answered vehemently.
“For a genius you’re really dumb or just plain ignorant to everything, aren’t you?”
Somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped then joined by another and another, until finally a small chorus formed.
“Let Niki back,” he demanded.
“That’s the problem with the world today. They try to explain everything that’s extraordinary. Like for a child who’s too smart for his own good, they just slap the label ‘child prodigy’ on his forehead and ship him off to some special school.”
“This isn’t your body. It’s Niki’s.”
“All that these schools do is they force this genius boy to think that there’s only so much he can do when there’s more. They put limits to his talents and make him think he’s supposed to fit into the world around him.”
“Niki, if you’re in there, listen to me,” he moved in closer towards her.
“Then when the kid grows up he figures that he’s done everything that he can do.” Jessica wasn’t backing down either and matched his advances equally, both trying to win some unseen battle between them.
“Fight her, Niki!” he was yelling in a hushed tone now.
“Now, why does that story sound so familiar?”
“Don’t let her win!”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Niki!”
“The boy is you.”
The crickets stopped singing just as suddenly as they had started, throwing another blanket of silence over them. Slowly, the wind picked up and encouraged the temperatures to drop even more, letting the cold champion over the night.
Breathing hard now, he had run out of things to say and thoughts to think about. He merely stood there right before her and contemplated over his life, his achievements, and the academy he was sent to. “Linderman doesn’t own me.”
“Think again,” Jessica whispered fiercely.
“Mom?”
The intensity of her stare shattered as she whirled behind to answer Micah, “What’s up, honey?”
“Are you going to come in soon?” Micah asked again from the front door. “Why can’t you and Greg talk inside?”
“We’re almost done,” she said sweetly and for just a second, Greg prayed that the real Niki was back. “I’ll be right there, baby.”
He was wrong.
“Let me spell this clearly for you,” the Niki he knew was stripped away to reveal that Jessica was very much in control. Behind her, Micah had returned to the comforts of his home before she spoke again. “You planted evidence to help Niki and as far as I know it, that’s a crime. Imagine if your friends find out. I bet you’ll lose a lot more than just your job.”
No matter how hard he tried, Greg couldn’t keep the horror he felt hidden any longer.
“So you see,” she took a step back and was making her way to the door. “Linderman does own you now.” All that was needed to complete the scene was thunder and lightning, along with an evil laugh. And even if Jessica did finish it off with that, Greg would never be able to hear it with the door swung shut after her.
Slowly, he slid down a few inches as he leaned against the Denali. He tried taking deep breathes to calm himself, but all that he could muster were short gasps that were quickly turning into panic. Turning around to face the car, he tried again to control his breathing or else give in to the overwhelming need to throw up. By some miracle, he managed to stumble his way into the driver’s seat.
It took a while but he was finally able to breathe like a regular person, thrusting the key into the ignition, and then twisting it. The rumble of the engines filled his ears as he looked forward, still trying to push the nausea down. Looking for something-anything-to keep his attention away, the only thing he found was the back cover of Micah’s book.
Like the colour of the title was printed in, the author’s brief life story was splashed across the dull blue. It wasn’t very long but Greg’s mind had managed to summarise it up just to keep himself distracted. All he could make out were the simplified version, which was: ‘Chandra Suresh is a professor in genetics, experienced in the field for the past 25 years, comes from India, is married, and has a son.’
Running a hand over the book, Greg took one final deep breath, and shifted the gear into drive. Just before he stepped down on the accelerator, he mentally wrote in the last line to the short biography.
Chandra Suresh will also help Greg Sanders find the answers he needs.
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TBC