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One of Us 10/?

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TWO DAYS LATER: GRISSOM'S OFFICE

"I don' c're. I w'nt him in jail!"

"I'm sorry. I don't think it warrants it and neither does
Captain Brass."

I do! I'm the one wi' th' wired jaw!"

"We've all been under tremendous strain since Greg was
attacked, especially Nick. Your provocation was just the final nudge
over a very shaky edge for him. I admit he lost control and there
will be consequences, but..."

"Wh't conshequenshes?" Hodges mumbled around the constricting
material securing his mouth.

"I've put a letter of reprimand in his file."

"Th'ts all?!"

"He'll also be forfeiting a week's pay." Grissom added,
looking slightly confused. "That's sufficient in my view."

"No it ishn't! He beat me up an' I want jushtice!"

"He didn't beat you up." Grissom corrected him, beginning to
get a little angry on Greg's behalf. He wasn't about to suggest
Hodges go see Greg and discover what real assault victims looked
like, but he was tempted to drag the man down to the morgue the next
time a woman was found beaten to death and shove the little whiner's
nose in a bit of reality. "Agreed, Nick did hit you, but, as I said,
it was provoked and I don't...."

"Pr'voked?! I can't shpeak my mind now, ish that it?!" Hodges
shot back, rising to his feet. Gil stood as well, facing down the
smaller man.

"Speak your mind; yes. Insult a hospitalized, brutalized
colleague and expect to get away with it; not on your life. You can
go now. Oh, and Hodges? I'd suggest you be very careful where and to
whom you run your mouth from now on."

"Ish that a threat, Grisshom?"

"Not at all. More like a friendly warning. There are people
in and out of this place on a regular basis who'd be more likely to
twist your head off your neck than punch you in the jaw. I just
thought you should be aware of the potential for really getting
hurt... that's all."

Hodges glared at Grissom, whirled and stalked out, his own
plans for a proper revenge already racing through his head.

---------------------------------

LATER THAT MORNING:

"Nick.... c'mon. We've been up all night, I know we're both
tired..."

Then quit tryin' to tell me what I have to do."

"Why are you even here, then? If you still refuse to go see Greg, why
the hell are you even here?"

"For you! I haven't been around much since that night an' I haven't
been much support to you... I figured I'd make it up today, but if
you're just gonna snipe at me, I'll go..."

"I'm not the one who needs the support right now! Warrick's been to
see him, David came yesterday.... hell, practically everybody, day
*and* night shift, has been in to cheer him up. Now he needs to see
you1"

"Look, just quit pushin' me, damn it! I've got my reasons...."

"The hell you do. This isn't about your issues, it's about Greg.
Frankly, I'm sick of seeing the light in his eyes go out every time
it isn't you walking through the door. Get over it and get your ass
in there, Nick!"

"I can't! Not after I let him down...."

"Let him down? Nicky, you're not making sense. How could you let him
down?"

"I backed off his case, remember? I should've been lookin' for the
guys that hurt him, but I let my past get in the way! How's he
supposed to forgive me for bein' such a coward? Huh?"

After taking a moment to breathe and temper her frustration,
Catherine laid a hand on Nick's shoulder and dropped her forehead
onto her knuckles.

"You weren't a coward. That was a choice you felt like you
had to make. Trust me, Greg has his own demons to fight, Nick. The
last thing he's thinking about are anyone else's." she told him,
raising her head a little. "I've never known you *not* to step up
when somebody needs you, damn it... and if you walk out of here now
you really will let him down."

"God... I know you're right. Is he.... are the bruises
still...."

"Of course they're still there. It hasn't been half as long
as it feels." Catherine told him quietly.

"Yeah. Seems like a month since that Thursday night." Nick
agreed, his eyes shifting to the closed door of Greg's room. "I'm
scared outta my damn mind, Cath... I don't wanna hurt him any
worse...."

"What's hurting him is thinking that you staying away means
he did something wrong... that in your eyes this was his fault
somehow."

Nick's eyes whipped back around to meet Catherine's.

"No.... God, no. He can't...."

"Then go show him it's okay. Show him *he's* okay."

Nick shifted his gaze to the door once again, closed his eyes
and swiped his functional hand over his face. Eventually, he nodded
and moved away from Catherine's comforting touch and toward Greg's
room.

Hearing a sound, Greg looked up and responded to the
tentative knock.

"C'mon in."

When he realized that the one person he'd been waiting for had
finally arrived, the younger man smiled warmly, genuine excitement
and color blossoming in his face. His initial greeting was
restrained, however, as his emotions were threatening to overwhelm
him. "Nick. Hey. I've been wondering when you'd come around."

Nick approached slowly and placed his feet cautiously as if
afraid that even the slightest jar or sudden movement would cause
further damage to his frail colleague. Finally, he reached the bed-
side chair and dropped into it.

"Yeah... been wantin' to. Sara an' I had a case....
everything's been crazy. Besides, the doctors warned us to kinda keep
it on the down-low an' not stress you out by visitin' all the time."

"Lot they know. Seein' my friends makes everything better."

"You.... you look good, an' you're soundin' stronger. Makes
things better on our end too, bud."

Glancing at Nick's cast, Greg tossed his colleague a wicked
grin.

"I heard you took out Hodges for me. Way to go, my man." Greg
complimented, raising one hand for a high five. Nick hesitated, but
acceded to his request and when the younger man didn't flinch or show
any sign of pain, Nick relaxed considerably.

"Well, I'm gonna pay for it, guaranteed, but I don't regret
it one bit. Somebody shoulda whooped that man's ass for him a long
time ago."

"Amen to that, brother."

"So... how're you feelin'?"

"Better. I managed to stay awake for two whole hours this
morning. That's a record."

"Don't go shortin' yourself on your rest just to up your
macho quotient, now. You wouldn't be sleepin' if your body didn't
need it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do I need it?"

"Greggo..."

"No. If I can trust anybody to tell me the truth, it's you. I
know everybody else knows what happened but I can't get a straight
answer. Talk to me, Nick. Please."

"You... you hold on, okay? I'll be right back."

"Damn it, Stokes..."

"I will be back, I swear, an' I'll give you what you want.
Just hang in there...."

Stepping outside, he motioned to Catherine and Warrick, who
were standing several feet away.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Either of you got a tape recorder on you?"

"In my glove-box. Why?" Catherine asked.

"Greg.... he's practically beggin' me to tell him the whole
story. I figure it'd be a good time to get him talkin' and see what
he remembers."

"Doctor Denson said the drug wiped out anything useful."

"About the attack, maybe, but if he can tell us about the few
hours *before*..... I mean, you said his place was a wash-out. No
notes, nothing in his day-runner or on his wall calendar...."

"Okay. We'll try, but the minute he gets upset or..."

"We can't shield him from the truth forever, Cath. Much as we
might wanna think of him as a kid, he isn't. Hasn't been since the
explosion." Warrick reminded her. "Maybe it's time."

Catherine looked suddenly desolate and defeated, but she
nodded, turned and walked off to retrieve the recorder from her car.
Nick and Warrick glanced at each other, then moved back into the room.

-------------------------------------

"Okay, Greg. Remember, anytime you feel like stopping, you
just say the word, alright? If you don't remember, that's okay. Don't
force it."

"I'm good. I can handle this. Go ahead."

Catherine breathed deeply, hit the record button and laid the
device on the tray table with the mike pointed somewhere between
herself and Greg. She stated the time and date, the purpose of the
tape and the names of the people present then turned to her subject.

"I want to you to think back to the last period of time you
remember before you woke up in the hospital. Whatever comes to your
mind, just say it. Unless I have a question, I'll try not to
interrupt."

Laying back, Greg closed his eyes and searched his memory.

"Okay.... that had to be.... oh yeah. Thursday night. I was
gettin' ready for work. A buddy of mine called... said did I wanna
come see his new place. He was havin' a few people over.... really
informal, he said. Beer an' pretzels kinda thing. I told him I
couldn't stay long.... but I said I'd go. When I got there.... he met
me at the door with a.... I think it was a margarita in his hand. He
offered me one, but I... I told him I was workin' in, like, an hour."

When she noticed his hand begin to shake slightly, Catherine
held it between both of hers and squeezed it gently.

"What was his response?"

"He walked me to this temporary bar set-up he had... said
he'd make me a... a virgin marg. I said... why not, long as I watched
him make it. I did, too.... for the first few minutes at least. Then
another friend yelled my name an' came over. I talked to him for a
minute... we hadn't seen each other in months so there was a-a lot to
catch up on. Now that I think about it.... it struck me weird at the
time, but I just... brushed it off."

"What was weird?"

"That it was just the three of us. I mean... he said 'a few'.
I guess I expected more people. Then I figured the rest'd probably
show up later.... after I left. I let it go."

Greg's voice had now begun to shake also, prompting Nick to
move swiftly to his side and lay a soothing hand on his shoulder.
Warrick strode to the other side of the bed and grasped the free
hand. Catherine opened her mouth to speak up and end the questions,
but unyielding glances from both of the other men convinced her to
stay silent and let Greg continue. "So.... we talked... then I turned
back to get my drink. It tasted okay.... not like the real thing, but
nothin's harsh like tequila. About the time I finished the drink, I
remember lookin' at my watch.... I told him I had to go. He.... he
smiled... but he didn't say anything. It was this... nasty grin. I
thought maybe he was... playin' a joke.... like puttin' milk of
magnesia in when I wasn't lookin'.... I've done that one before...."

Tears were now streaming freely down Greg's face. Catherine
grabbed a tissue from a box on the nightstand and handed it to Nick,
who began to tenderly sweep the moisture away while fighting a battle
with his own rebellious eyes.

"Go on, man. You're doin' good..." Warrick encouraged,
ducking his head to dry his cheek on his sleeve.

"I... I can't.... all I remember is I got... dizzy.... then
nauseous.... my *buddy*... had my left elbow... the other guy had the
right... they'd help me find the bathroom he said...."

Suddenly Greg's eyes popped open and he looked to Catherine, fury
warring with pain for control of his expression. "Oh God.... the salt
on the glass.... so I wouldn't taste.... What'd they do?! Cath...
what'd they do?!"

"Greg, take it easy.... it's okay..."

"No! No, damn it.... no more evasions, no more lies, no more
bullshit! What did they do to me?!"

"Greg... I'm so sorry...."

Seeing the answer in her grief-stricken eyes, Greg drew in a
long breath and released it in a howl that brought Gil Grissom and
several others scurrying from various rooms along the corridor. When
he saw three of his team members all sitting on the bed, cradling
Greg as he sobbed and wailed, he glared the responding orderlies and
nurses away from the door, stepped inside and closed it behind him.

-----------------------------

After a long stretch of time spent consoling and comforting
the young lab tech, Greg's anguish finally seemed to ease and the
quartet pulled apart a little. Gil had deliberately stayed in the
background, not wanting to disturb the group. Now he approached,
smiling compassionately. It took another few minutes for Greg to
raise his head from Nick's shoulder and acknowledge his boss'
presence.

"Grissom... how long...."

"About an hour."

Greg tugged Nick's wrist up so he could see the time then
turned back to Gil.

"Then you.... Crap, I'm sorry you had to see me go ballistic
like that...."

"No apology necessary." he replied, handing the box of
tissues to the group in general. "As for you three...."

"I know, boss, I know. We shoulda told you, but it was spur
of the moment. It just... developed." Nick explained.

Gil focused on the tape recorder lying on the table and
picked it up. The tape had long since run out, so he hit rewind
absently.

"I take it this is the interview?"

Catherine nodded.

"If you plan on listening to it have a glass of something
aggressive handy... and don't do it alone."

"Noted. Were you able to remember much, Greg?"

"Yeah.... all of it before anything happened. Doesn't make it
any less shitty."

"I know, bud. You did real good. We're all damn proud of
you." Nick praised him.

"Can I ask one more question?" Warrick requested.

"I... I guess."

"This friend you said invited you to the house warming....
what's his name?"

Greg drew and expelled a deep breath, staring at his hands,
before he found the energy or bravery to answer. When he looked up
again, the mixture of anger and sorrow was back on his face, but at a
much more restrained level.

"Brett. Brett Sawyer. The other one's name is Steve Cimino.
Grissom... I know I shouldn't ask for anything right now, but..."

"Of course you can. Whatever you need."

"Keep an eye on 'em.... but wait a couple days to bring 'em
in. I should be outta here by then."

"Greg..."

"It's okay. I know what you're thinkin' but... I don't wanna
hurt anybody. Couldn't if I tried. I just need to be there outside
the interrogation room. I wanna hear the two of them deny it.... then
see their faces when I walk in... an' I wanna be the one to hit the
play button on that tape we made today. You think you can make that
happen?"

"I sure as hell can." Gil stated firmly then turned and
walked out.

Nick looked at Warrick, whose mouth was hanging open in shock.

"You didn't believe me. I told you he swore an' you didn't
believe me..."

------------------------

ONE HOUR LATER: A LOCAL BOXING GYM
WARRICK:

His fists taped securely, drops of sweat slipping down his
face to drip off his nose and chin, Warrick braced himself on the
heavy bag and caught his breath for a moment. After leaving the
hospital, he'd initially headed for home and much needed sleep, but
soon realized the tension in his back, neck and shoulders would not
allow him to rest. It was an ache that a hot shower alone wouldn't
cure, he knew that all too well, so he chose to do something about it
instead of ignore it.

Now, he stood with his hands flat on the tough leather
surface of the object he'd been striking and kicking out at for
almost an hour, waiting for his body to tell him whether he was ready
to quit or if he could go on a little longer. Though he trained in
martial arts regularly, he only succumbed to the need for a truly
battering work-out once in a great while; only when everything looked
so wrong and so dark that it seemed there was no way he or the world
would ever find balance again.

He'd come here so often after Holly Gribbs' death, and punished his
body so harshly, that the owner, a good friend, had banned him for a
full month and told him he would not be allowed back until he sought
some kind of counseling. Seeing Greg so utterly devastated, and
knowing what the shattered young man still had to endure, had flipped
the "I need a release" switch once again, but he knew it wouldn't be
so all-consuming this time. This time, one session of pushing himself
to the absolute limit would be enough.

Straightening slowly, he wiped his hands and moved to the
small portable music system sitting on the floor. Shutting down the
CD function he switched to the radio and moved through the stations
until he heard the beginning notes of a song that fit his mood.
Moving back to stand before the bag, he bounced on the balls of his
feet for a moment, letting the music recharge him, then he resumed
his work-out.

* how can you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where i've become so numb without a soul
my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home...

(wake me up)
wake me up inside
wake me up inside,
call my name and save me from the dark
bid my blood to run
before i come undone
save me from the nothing i've become....

all this time i can't believe i couldn't see
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
i've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
got to open my eyes to everything.....

now that i know what i'm without
you can't just leave me
breathe into me and make me real....
bring me to life.... *


TBC.......
Authors -B-
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