88A/N: Here's the much promised epilogue, and I won't say I busted my back over it, but given the truck load my school just dumped on me, this is my A- game. And I'm quite proud of it (and I'm the most modest person you'll ever meet.). So, I hope this satisfies ya'll because I don't feel like going back and redoing this again because someone wanted Greg's shirt to be blue or some ish like that! (Hahaha and if I even DO get a complaining review, I probably will feel inclined to do just that.) Well, enough of me.
Disclaimer: RAWR I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! Now get back, evil lawyers before I have to beat you back with a stick!
Chapter 14: Epilogue
Greg's POV:
I fought with my hair in my locker's mirror, begging with it endlessly to stay down for the court date I had coming up. I was a step away from resorting to super glue before Nick strolled into the locker room, preparing to hang up his jacket. I could feel his eyes concentrating solely on the back of my head.
"Shut up, okay? The hair feels better when it's up." I told him with a grunt of aggravation as I made a last attempt at flattening the mass of dead cells I called "my hair".
"Yeah, so don't a lot of other things," Nick joked ever-so-nastily with that typical grin on his face, "but either way, it gets you in trouble."
Laughing sarcastically, I tried to cover up the fact that I knew exactly what he meant. It's the reason why I no longer had a girlfriend now, as of last night. And it wasn't even her that dumped me. It was her father when he discovered us.
Last time I ever agree to go over to a girlfriend's parent's house for dinner, knowing she was gonna be dressed like that. My mind agreed as I recalled the way that red dress had highlighted everything nicely. I'm gonna miss that.
It was exactly a year from today that we'd made a run from that island in the middle of Lake Mead. And a lot had changed since then. I had met, dated – and now been dumped by – Samantha, Nick had moved on with his life as well, Cath and Warrick finally stopped playing the mind games with each other and got together, and though no one ever spoke of it – as they shouldn't – we all knew in the back of our minds that the boss and Sara were no longer playing the "Timid Tango" with each other and finally moved passed themselves as well. I had to hand it to them, or to Grissom especially.
Knowing I'd have that to go home to... My mind said teasingly, picturing Sara in my mind's eye for a moment. Don't think I could make it through the day of working side by side with her.
And as for Brass... Well... He was just as "Brassy" as ever. Nothing could change him.
I would suppose one could speculate that I had... grown up, since a year ago. But not much could be changed about myself either. The most apparent part, at this moment, was my hair, which sprung up higher than I'd ever seen it before – even with the aid of my hair gel. Snapping my locker shut, carrying the "out of sight, out of mind" phrase fresh in my mind, I turned to Nick once more.
"Got scissors?"
"Got hairspray." Nick commented as he tossed an aerosol can in my general direction, which I promptly threw back the moment I touched it like it was some diseased ridden thing.
"What do I look like? A seventies child?" I shot an offensive look as Nick stared between myself and the can with hurt and inquiring eyes. Without thinking, I caressed the top of my head back with my hand in an effort to show off. "I'm all eighties child, man."
Nick barely managed to stifle his laugh as his eyes traveled up to my hair. "Yeah, and I guess the judge will see that too."
Yanking open my locker door once again, I groaned as the consequences of my actions destroyed the hours I'd put into flatten most of my hair.
"Oh dammit man!"
Warrick's POV:
"A tall black coffee, fresh out of Dunkin's." I pronounced as I entered the break room to see a certain blond CSI sitting at the table with her nose buried so deep into a newspaper, I was positive she could smell the ink. "I see Griss still hasn't arrived with our assignments for tonight. Wonder what's keeping him?" I stated the last sentence with a chuckle.
Catherine never looked up from the newspaper as she replied with a somewhat distant voice while she grabbed for the coffee she'd made me run out to get, especially for her. "Probably similar to the same thing that was keeping me from completing my rest or shower before we came into work tonight."
My face scrunched up as I passed the coffee off to Cath, the image of Griss and Sara in the office. No offense to either, but not even Cath and I would go to that extreme. I would like to think.
Freeing my mind from that thought, I was about to ask Cath what it was that she was intriguing. She hadn't so much as looked up at me the entire time I'd been in. But just as I opened my mouth, a well dressed, flat haired, and defeated Greg Sanders and a defiant, typically smiling Nick Stokes both stumbled and sauntered in. Casting a bemused glance at Greg, it earned me "The Palm", along with the, "I don't want to talk about it" look as he disappeared over to the couch.
"What's up with Gregor?" I moved on to ask Nick who sat down next to me, staring over his shoulder at the arm-crossed Greg on the couch.
"Mr. Eighties Man had to use my 'seventies' hairspray to get his hair to work for court today." Nick proclaimed with a triumphant smirk.
"Never again!" Greg promised with an accusing finger pointing straight at Nick. "Never again will I sink this low, okay? My hair is now Hazmat material!"
"Oh c'mon Gregor... Hazmat could find so much worse on you if we brought them in." I teased respectively with a grin. "Why do you think they grabbed you and Sara out of that house? Hazmat found out you existed and Sara was in close proximity."
Greg forced out a sarcastic laugh before turning away with a pouty lip while Nick laughed to himself. "Oh that was cold, man."
"Happy Killjoy Day to all..." Came the announcement from Brass as he walked into the break room unexpectedly. "And to all, hopefully a night not filled anywhere near that island."
"Please don't even mention that name, Brass." Sara's voice trailed in just shortly before she made her appearance, unfortunately without Grissom who held our assignments captive. "You know what today is."
"Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad..." Brass insisted. "So where's the boss?"
More than a few eyes were cast over to Sara who, in turn, held up both hands in defense. "Don't look at me, you guys... I didn't do anything with him. I haven't even seen him since I got into the building."
I noted the swift and disbelieving eye roll that Nick did to himself.
"Whatcha got there, Cath? Trying to see if you're next crime scene is in the newspaper already?" Brass asked as he walked around behind Cath to peer over her shoulder.
Finally, Catherine laid the newspaper down on the table, laying a pointer finger onto a picture and matching article. I did a quick double take before the reality of the picture hit me, drawing me up and out of the seat.
"Diary of Good Scientist Turned Bad: Dr. Robert 'Killjoy' Johanson's Life & Death?" I read aloud with a tone of surprise. "What the Hell?"
"Get the Hell out of here! They have something about him in the paper?" Greg spoke as I heard the couch creak as he and Sara joined the party hovering above Catherine.
"'Father of five, husband of two, and executioner to hundreds. Dr. Killjoy's life was a drama since the beginning. Abandoned along the side of the road as an infant, he was found by a prostitute of the time and raised until the age of 15 by the same woman. Fascinated with the inner workings of the human mind, and how easily his surrogate mother seemed to affect the minds of males everywhere, he began theories and experiments at the age of 10. Killed before his very eyes at age 15, Killjoy participated in the coronary investigation upon the arrival of the medical examiners to his surrogate mother's crime scene.'" Nick read the first paragraph, seemingly astounded. "Damn, no wonder he was so screwed up... Poor guy probably went through a lot of sexual abuse as a kid."
There was a simultaneous nod amongst the group as Greg continued reading. "'At age 22, Killjoy met his first wife, Melinda Vossler, a known ex-con. Together, the two produced a set of identical triplets. A year after the triplet's birth, Killjoy fled for reasons unknown. Some surmised that the thoughts of actual parenthood scared him away while others speculated that he left to pursue his dreams of knowledge. For years after he left, he studied biology as well as psychology at the most prestigious colleges, meeting his second wife along the way.'" Greg whistled after his paragraph. "The guy was a player then. Has three kids, up and leaves, moves onto another little honey."
"Greg? Never again." Sara lifted her eyes momentarily from the paper before she picked up reading. "'When finally his pursuit of knowledge was complete, he moved onto his next step: Opening an asylum to put his intellect to use. His second wife gave birth to his other two children a year after forming the Insane Asylum in the very middle of Lake Mead. Over time, the man everyone knew as Robert Johanson gave way to a man much more darker. A man known more properly as Dr. Killjoy. The admittance of his triplet daughters from his previous marriage was what careened him over the edge, however, bringing his past back to haunt him.'"
"Geez, and I thought my marriage was bad." Brass scoffed slightly with a shake of his head. "'Reports of experimentations on the patients and animals that wandered the island alike were only heard about after his death. Amateur lobotomies and other brain surgeries, extensively cruel treatments involving the ingestion of different poisons for months at a time, a mixture of solitary confinement with shock therapy were just a few of the things a patient at the Killjoy Asylum could expect to endure. Killjoy combined and mutated the animals in hopes of creating the perfect guard animals, though most attempts usually failed or the results were unknown.'" Brass huffed after he finished his paragraph. "I think we all know what became of them."
There was an equal shudder than still ran through all of us, and I found myself clutching unconsciously at my stomach while I saw Sara protectively rubbing her right forearm. Tissue damaged scars still left their marks on us, and every morning while we're still in bed, Cath traces my scars like she was tracing a map.
"'Over time, the whereabouts and fates of his wife and two children from the second marriage were lost to the tides of time, as well as two of the three children from his first marriage. One, however, by the name of Sarah discovered how disturbed her father was and made all efforts to escape. It is even rumored that there was an escape route she designed personally, but she never got to use it as her young life was cut short at the hands of her father and his Ultimate Survival Test that she simply did not survive from. Little 15 year old Sarah Ann Vossler-Johanson was found mauled to death in the woods surrounding Lake Mead on Friday, June 13, 1909 by police chief Jack Gordon of the Las Vegas Police Department who stated, "I've never seen anything like it in my 20 years of police chief, and I earnestly hope I never have the honor of witnessing it once more."'" I read, easily confusing in my mind the Sarah in the paper with the Sara that stood next to me.
"Dr. Robert 'Killjoy' Johanson was put on the stand for the murder of his daughter Sarah Vossler-Johanson and was also put down for the suspected murder of his other children and second wife. He was sentenced to death by electrocution over at the Eastern State Penitentiary in Maryland. Not even two days of being on death row in Eastern State, Robert Johanson was found dead in his deadbolt locked cell, cause of death: Unknown. Some say his insanity in the self-proclaimed Silent Prison killed him while others suspect guards had unlocked his cell in the dead of night and murdered him. To this day, it remains a mystery. But it is often said that those who dwell in mystery are doomed and fated to die in mystery as well.'" Catherine finished off the last paragraph, her words silently fading into the room as we all stood back, in awe, now that we knew the whole story behind the man of the mansion.
We all reclaimed seats around the table, not saying a word as we looked around at each other. None of us had even acknowledged Grissom had entered the room until he stood at the head of the table, holding a single casefile in his hand, looking around the table to every distant face. I could barely hear him calling out, "Hey", until he finally yelled it, jolting us all into reality.
"Anyone feel like working a case in the woods near Lake Mead?"
All of our eyes grew wide and sucked in a gust of wind as we yelled out at the top of our lungs harmoniously. "NO!"
It was minutes of tension-filled silence until we all fell into laughter as Grissom sat down and discussed the actual case, a triple homicide out in Henderson with special circumstances and more eye witnesses than we could count on our fingers and toes.
Fifteen years later...
"C'mon, guys! Catch up, will ya?" Cole Stokes eagerly urged his best friends as they lagged behind as they tracked through the woods around Lake Mead.
"Will you stop calling me a guy, Cole? In case you haven't noticed, I am a girl, y'know?" Leyla Sidle-Grissom proclaimed with her arms crossed defiantly as she caught up to Cole's side first. Pulling her curly brown hair back into a ponytail, blue eyes peered around inquisitively as she watched Cole climb up the tree next to him. "Why the Hell did you drag us out here anyways? It's Friday night and my parents think I'm at the movies with you guys."
Evan Sanders made a small, "Pfft" sound from beside Leyla before ducking away out of fear as she turned to glare at him. Flashing what his father considered the "Sander's Smile", he only said, "Stop being such a do-gooder, Grissom." in his defense.
"That's Sidle-Grissom to you." Leyla threatened as she turned her gaze back up the tree.
"I'd suggest you be careful with Ley, man." The tall, dark, and handsome Parker Brown chuckled. "She'll kick your ass in a minute."
"Yeah, and you'd know first hand, wouldn't you Park?" Cole quipped from up the tree, flashing a perfect smile down at his three best friends.
"Hell yeah!" Parker exclaimed with an air of self-righteousness. "I crossed the wrong lines. I admit it."
"Yeah, and my Mom is gonna verbally kick all ours if she finds out where we are." Leyla proclaimed as she looked around subconsciously, searching for her Mother.
Parker huffed as he rubbed his bare arms warm once more. "Then it's a whole lotta Sidles kicking a whole lotta ass."
"That's Sidle-Grissom to you too, Park!" Leyla dead armed Parker with a pout.
"Hush down there, you guys!" Cole shushed without looking down to see Leyla's scowl and glare. He continued to look beyond the horizon, and without even realizing it, Leyla had scurried up the sturdy tree to sneak a peek as well. "Look!"
"Wha..." Evan gasped in awe as him and Parker climbed up the tree parallel to Cole and Leyla's tree. "What is that Cole?"
"That, Ev, is Killjoy's Mansion." Cole said deviously as he continued to look on, deep brown eyes getting drunk on the sight of his next adventuring spot.
Sharing Cole's enthusiasm suddenly, and all cares of her Mother or Father finding out where she actually was, Leyla leaped down the tree. "Well, c'mon, what are we waiting around here for! Let's go search the place!"
The three boys shared a laugh as they jumped down as well and ran off after they're fearless female leader, into the depths of the woods and off to...
Killjoy's Mansion.
The End...
A/N2: Okay, Quick Fact: Eastern State Penitentiary IS a real prison that DOES reside in Maryland, US. But it's no longer able to hold prisoners since it went out of commision sometime in the early 1900s. It IS haunted and a few days before Halloween, they give tours through the building (Last I knew of). Heh, and as for if you people are wondering if this Dr. Killjoy is real, nope. Not even. Had you going though, didn't I? Though, it'd be a lie if I said I didn't loosely base the character on Hitler along with someone else.
Well, there you go, guys (and girls). I tried to sum up everything about the story as I could, and then added something on top of that. Sorry, couldn't help myself. Do I plan on making a sequel? Most likely not, because then too many people are gonna read the sequel and be all, "EH! IT'S NOT CSI! THEY JUST GOT THE SAME LAST NAMES! RAWR I EAT BABIES!" (Oh my, Chloe) But who knows? Maybe ya'll could persuade me if you really want. (You're probably like, "PLEASE NO! GO AWAY! WHY DO YOU EVEN BREATH?!") lol, but, I'll cut this goodbye shut by saying, It's been fun and I hope ya'll enjoyed the story. I've already got a couple WIPs in the vault, so keep a lookout for me, ya hear? A'ight catch ya'll later.
Peace out, one love,
MC New York