Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
***************
CHAPTER 6
***************
"I need to talk to him, Cath."
"I know Greg."
She ran a hand through his hair as the tears started flowing again.
After he regained control of himself he turned and faced her.
"I want to know what happened. All of it."
So the CSI related all that she knew, which had been what Nick told
Grissom, so was getting thirdhand, but Greg listened, hanging onto
every word, looking more and more depressed as she went on, but as
promised, she told all of it.
He�for me? You've gotta let me see him. Please Cath, please?"
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in desperation. Trying to
reassure him and hopefully get some circulation back in her fingers,
she said.
"Nothing's going to happen unless you calm down."
"You don't understand. Please."
He looked so young and scared, and Catherine could only imagine what
he'd gone through, so something inside her gave in.
"OK, I'll see what I can do, but you need to stay calm, OK? They're
worried enough about your mental state as it is."
He let go, and Catherine fought the urge to rub the sore spot in
front of Greg.
<hr>
Fifteen minutes later she returned to Greg, who was chewing on his
thumbnail.
"You sort it out?"
"Yeah. Your old clothes, apart from this," she threw Nick's jumper on
the bed. "are evidence, so I picked some stuff up from lost property."
Trainers, jeans, boxers, socks and a T-shirt joined the jumper.
Looking at them, Greg pulled a face.
"They're clean, and it's the best I could do, unless you want to
wait?"
She added slyly at the end, laughing when he shook his head.
"Sorry Cath."
He muttered, pulled up the clothes, hesitating and looking up at her.
"I'll wait outside, and stop apologising Greg, this isn't your fault."
She left and Greg pulled off the hospital gown, dropping it
unceremoniously on the floor, before putting on the other clothes.
Nick's jumper was oddly comforting, it smelt, like Nick really, and
he shook away the twinge of regret at having to give it back. With no
hesitation he left the small hospital room and met Catherine. He was
nervous about meeting Nick, he could go to jail and then he would
blame Greg.
<hr>
Nick sighed as he wrapped his fingers on the tabletop. He really
wanted Catherine to phone with news on Greg. He was going to be
arrested, that was something he had accepted now, but he did want to
lose his career for something and if Greg didn't make it, then it
would have been for nothing.
When they'd gotten back to the lab, he'd forgotten about Greg's head
injury, which meant he'd been terrified when Greg had just collapsed.
Grissom had left him a few minutes ago, presumably to fetch an
officer. He was drawn out of his thoughts by some shouting outside.
Some of the voices he thought he recognised, but they were muffled.
"Finally they stopped and Grissom opened the door, talking to the
person behind him.
"Five minutes is all I can give you, and you shouldn't be here."
Nick's head snapped up.
"Greg?"
Grissom left and the younger man stood in front of him, face full of
fear and misery, refusing to look up at him.
"Greg? Are you alright?"
Nick crossed the room to Greg who, finally muttered, or at least
started muttering, his voice rising as he continued.
"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry."
Nick pulled the lab tech into his arms as he started to cry again,
and quickly checked over all of his injuries. There was gauze on his
temple, and lint wrapped around each wrist. His face was bruised as
well. Greg just sobbed, whole body shaking, apologising every time he
drew breath.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. This is my fault, not yours. I should've
gone to Grissom, and not just done what Stubbs wanted, and now he's
still out there. So don't blame yourself over this, OK? I would do it
again in a heartbeat. I l-"
He stopped and Greg looked up at him through tearstained eyes, but
Nick decided now wasn't the time to voice those feelings. He just
settled for running a hand through Greg's hair and cupping his face.
"This is yours."
Greg moved to pull Nick's jumper over his head, before another hand
stopped him.
"You keep it. I have a feeling I won't be needing it anymore anyway."
Grissom re-entered with an officer.
"I'm sorry, Nick."
Nick nodded and let go of Greg, who was now getting distressed again,
and clung to Nick.
"Greg, it's alright, really it is, but you need to let go."
Reluctantly he did, and was fighting to stop the tears again, as Nick
was cuffed and led away, Grissom coming up behind him.
"Greg? Catherine's going to drive you home, OK?"
He nodded but turned his head away, not wanting his boss to see him
cry.
<hr>
They pulled up outside Greg's apartment. Catherine turned to look at
her quiet passenger.
"We're here, come on."
"You don't need to stay, I'm alright."
"I need to get back to Lindsay, I'm just going to make sure you're
alright, and besides, I took the key from your clothes, so you can't
get in without me."
Knowing there was no way to win this, Greg admitted defeat and
followed Catherine in, secretly relieved that he was not alone.
***************
CHAPTER 7
***************
Having spent the night in a cold jail cell, Nick was glad when
morning came, he had hardly gotten a wink of sleep. When the door
opened he looked up sleepily to see who it was. It was an officer who
looked vaguely familiar, possibly from a crime scene.
"Nick Stokes? Come on, someone's paid your bail. I'm presuming you
know the rules, right?"
Shocked, Nick managed to answer.
"Yeah, I know. Who though?"
The guard looked down at his slip of paper. Nick was trying to think
who it might be. His bail had been set at $200 000 so he had expected
to be in it for the long haul.
"Sanders."
"Huh?"
"The person who has paid your bail, one G. Sanders."
"Greg?"
More looking through his notes.
"Could be. Your clothes are here." He handed him a plastic bag. "And
then you are released into Mr Sanders' custody."
<hr>
Greg stood nervously where he had been told to wait, pacing as he
waited for Nick to come out. Maybe this was a bad idea, it wouldn't
look good for Nick, that he had paid the bail, but this was all his
fault, no matter what Nick had said, and he couldn't leave the CSI in
prison because he hadn't been paying attention when he got home that
night.
It had taken most of his money to work up the $200 000, he'd taken
out another mortgage on his apartment, dug write into his savings and
taken out a loan. He wasn't sure how he would be able to pay it back,
especially since he wasn't allowed to work for another week. But
after that, he was going to have to max out his overtime. And then
some.
He was brought out of these depressing, exhausting thoughts, by Nick
approaching, which only but him back into more depressing thoughts.
He smiled sheepishly.
"Hey."
Nick held his hand out to Greg, who took it and then stepped closer
to him.
"You didn't have to do this, you know."
Greg broke the eye contact and looked down.
"I did. But it doesn't matter. Can we get out of here?"
At a small attempt at humour, Nick forced a smile onto his face.
"You'll get no argument from me. Shall we?"
And the pair left, Nick noticing that Greg was still wearing his
jumper, and smiled at it.
<hr>
Greg opened the door, and entered, letting Nick follow him in,
standing awkwardly as everything was taken in by the observant eyes
of the older man. It was a relatively small apartment, but until now
Greg had never really been a home person, and spent a lot of evenings
elsewhere. But now he felt that maybe staying seemed like a good
idea, safer idea anyway.
Nick took in his surroundings, a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was
very�Greg, for want of a better word. Among the textbooks, magazines
with people like Pink on the cover, and science journals were piled
on the coffee table. Next to the CD player was a pile of CDs, all the
kind of music that would have Grissom tearing his hair out, as Greg
did insist on playing it at three times the volume of any sane
person. There was a plant in the corner; that looked slightly out of
place. Especially as it looked watered and cared for. But people
surprise you. And Greg was nothing if not surprising. Thinking of
him, Nick turned back to him.
"You're the guest, so you should take the bed."
"Greg, you've just got out of hospital, don't be stupid, man. I'll
take the couch." And as Greg started to protest. "No arguments."
Nick put his duffle bag next to the couch, they had stopped by his
house on the way over, to pick up some of his things, clothes etc.
Greg had actually seemed happy about not being alone, and Nick wanted
to talk about it, though he had a feeling Greg wouldn't.
He sat down and motioned for Greg to do the same, which he did, but
more heavily than Nick and tried to hide the wince.
"Still hurt?"
"Yeah, I never thought tha�"
He trailed off, realising what he had been about to say.
"It's nothing, I'll be fine in a couple of days."
Nick raised his eyebrows suspiciously, doubting that, however much
the lab tech wanted to believe it.
"Hmm�well. Did they say you were clean?"
At that, Greg leaned back into the sofa, eyes cast downwards.
"Before, I was. But now, I don't know. It's going to take several
days before I know."
"What are the chances."
"It depends. If he was clean, I have great chances. If not, then�"
Greg's dry attempt at humour stopped as the idea of what could've
happened to him sunk in. He fought to hold back the tears, he'd cried
enough in front of Nick. But when Nick put an arm around his
shoulder, he leaned into the embrace, accepting the comfort, though
still not allowing himself to cry. When the phone rang he stayed
where he was, stifling a moan of disappointment when Nick moved to
answer it.
"Hello?"
"Nick? Why are you at Greg's?"
Nick sighed, wondering how Grissom would take it he replied.
"Greg paid my bail."
"Is he there? I need to speak to him."
It was then that Nick noticed what was different about Grissom's
voice. There was an emotion in it he hadn't recognised, fear. And the
thought of Gil Grissom being so scared that Nick could tell over the
phone, chilled him right to the core.
"Grissom, what's wrong?"
Greg was watching Nick and panicked when he paled considerably, mouth
falling open slightly.
"Nick, Nick, what's going on?"
He asked finding himself asking the same questions as he had when
Nick had rescued him from Stubbs' apartment, and when Nick had been
arrested, and millions of possibilities were running through his head.
Nick finally seemed to realise where he was and handed the phone to
Greg, muttering.
"He wants to talk to you."
"Grissom? Yeah, I'm OK, what's wrong?"
As Grissom answered the lab tech froze, grip loosening on the phone
and it slipped through his fingers and landed on the floor.
"Oh God."
He whispered.
***************
CHAPTER 8
***************
At the sight of Greg, Nick pulled himself together, trying to stay
strong for him, he doubted Greg had even noticed that the phone was
lying on the ground at his feet. The CSI picked it up.
"Grissom?"
He was surprised at how together his voice was.
"Nick? What happened?"
"He dropped it. I'll call you back later."
He hung up and turned back to Greg, who hadn't moved from where he
was standing. Nick's heart went out to him immediately. His eyes had
filled with tears again, and he whispered.
"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be
happening."
Over and over, trying to reassure himself, though it didn't appear to
be working. Nick approached him and gently pulled Greg into his arms,
letting the tears spill over, Nick shedding a couple as well.
"Greg, the test might still come back negative. You don't know yet."
Greg pulled back and stared up at him.
"Do you know what the chances are, Nick? 7 in 10. 7 in 10 chance that
it'll come back positive. And then what?"
"Then we'll deal with it."
Greg rested his head against Nick again, another tear slipping down
his cheek.
"Everything's going to change. People will talk, and then�"
"Nothing's going to change, this won't change how I feel about you, I
promise."
Greg gave a small smile at that.
"So, while we're on the subject, how do you feel about...me?"
Nick guided Greg to the chair and sat him down, noting the wince and
then crouched down next to him, putting them at eye-level.
"This isn't the time to talk about this, OK Greg? You're going
through a hard time and you don't want to do anything you'll regret
later."
"What if I wouldn't regret it later?"
Greg leaned towards Nick, who pulled back and stepped away.
"Give it time Greg, and then we'll talk. You know why I'm doing this
right?"
"I guess."
He still didn't seem too happy about it though, but didn't complain
further.
"Good, now you should get to bed. You look pretty tired."
Greg tried to deny it, and may have succeeded if he hadn't yawned in
the middle of it. After that he gave up and allowed Nick to move him
into the bedroom so he could get some sleep.
"You know," he mumbled as Nick pulled the covers over him, "I have a
mother already."
Nick grinned, before replying, "I'm not that bad, am I?"
Greg nodded but smiled anyway. He didn't mind, truth be told, in fact
he hated the idea of being alone. He was exhausted but hadn't got a
wink of sleep last night, he couldn't close his eyes without seeing
his attacker's face staring down at him. So when Nick started to walk
away, without thinking he shot his hand out and grabbed his wrist.
"Don't go."
There was a pause after Greg's urgent outburst, so he tried again.
"Please? Just until I fall asleep?"
Nick's face filled with concern and he sat on the edge of the bed,
placing his free hand over Greg's, which still hadn't relinquished
it's hold on his wrist.
"You don't have to be afraid, Greg. Nothing's going to happen." He
reassured, though both knew that Greg wouldn't start to feel safe
until they'd found Stubbs, and he'd been locked up. But for now, they
had to deal.
<hr>
The next couple of days were hard for both of them. Greg could hardly
think of anything else. While looking through records on Stubbs, it
had come to light that he had recently been found HIV positive,
giving Greg a high risk of having contracted the condition. He'd
spent huge amounts of time researching it, looking for any possible
cure, and finding nothing. He had become withdrawn and quiet, and the
rare times Nick tried to get him to open up about it, he would yell.
Nick took everything that Greg threw at him, still feeling guilty for
the whole situation. The lowest point had been when Greg had
screamed. "You should've just let him kill me." When Nick had told
him that they would get through it. But now he was there as someone
to make sure that Greg didn't try and take his own life or do
something else that he would later regret.
Normally, Greg would have had to go to a clinic to get the results
and would have to have waited longer, but because it was an ongoing
criminal investigation and the suspect had not yet been caught,
Grissom had managed to pull some strings and get them rushed.
It was two days before Greg was due back at work when Grissom knocked
on the door. Nick opened it, smiled at Grissom and then noticed the
small brown envelope in the older CSIs hands.
"Is that�?"
Grissom nodded.
"What does it say?"
"I don't know. They're Greg results, so he should get them first."
Nick nodded and moved aside, letting the supervisor pass. Greg turned
off the TV and stood to greet Grissom, freezing when he noticed the
envelope. Grissom handed it to Greg, who took it with shaking hands.
He had spent the last few days wanting to know nothing else, and yet
now, when the answer was in his hands, he couldn't bring himself to
open it.
"Ignorance is bliss." He muttered, so that the two older men couldn't
hear him.
He could tell that Nick wanted nothing more than to come and stand
next to him, to reassure him, but stood back, giving him some
personal space. Greg wished he could be reassured, but it was
literally his life on the line here.
With an unconcealed dread, the trembling fingers peeled back the flap
and pulled out the results.
***************
CHAPTER 9
***************
"No!"
It wasn't a yell, it was a hoarse disbelieving cry as Greg dropped
the envelope and its' contents, pushed by Nick, and then by Grissom
who tried to stop him, before running out of the door, not stopping
to look back.
It didn't take a genius to work out what the scientist's reaction had
meant, but to confirm, Grissom bent down and scooped up the discarded
paper, reading the results with his normal expressionless face,
before nodding to Nick, who was watching him expectantly, praying
that he was wrong, face falling as Grissom confirmed it.
"Man Grissom. I've got to find him before he does something stupid."
"OK, but Nick? When you do find him, be careful. He might be
unpredictable and lash out. He's feeling vulnerable right now."
Nick nodded, grabbed the keys and left, leaving Grissom to put the
offending papers neatly back on the coffee table, and to close up the
apartment before heading back to the lab. There was nothing he could
do for now.
<hr>
Nick spent the afternoon wandering around parts of Las Vegas, looking
for Greg. It struck him how little he actually knew about the lab
tech, and had to rack his brain for little things Greg had said
before that could tell him where he could have gone. Every now and
then, he would call his mobile, but there would be no answer, causing
Nick to worry further. Finally he went from his perspective, and
starting looking in local bars. Greg could have been trying to drown
his sorrows, or more likely, forget them.
It was a small, dirty looking place that Nick finally found him in,
he slid up carefully beside him.
"Hey. How long have you been here?"
"Why do you care?"
"Greg, I'm tired, it's getting late and I've spent the last 3 hours
looking for you. I must have called you 10 times."
"12 actually." Was the reply, as Greg held up the phone which had `12
missed calls' displayed across the screen.
"Why didn't you pick up Greg? Do you know how worried I've been?"
Heads were starting to turn as the CSIs voice rose, and suddenly
aware of the eyes on them, Greg threw a few bills onto the table and
hurried out, slightly unsteady on his not entirely sober feet, Nick
running to catch up with him.
<hr>
"Greg!"
He grabbed hold of one of his wrists and held firm. Greg pulled
against him for a moment, but quickly realised the futility of this,
and stopped, Nick adjusting his grip, so he could hold tight, as he
wasn't sure that Greg wasn't going anywhere.
It was a cold night in Nevada and though Nick had a jumper, Greg was
in a thin T-shirt and goose-bumps had appeared up his arms.
"Don't do this to me Greg, please don't do this. Talk to me."
"And say what, Nick? Pretend like this isn't happening? You think
that I want to believe it? This is going to kill me. It's going to be
slow and it's going to be painful and I can't stop it.
I can't stop it." He repeated, letting it all sink in. He dug his
free hand into his pocket and pulled out an object that Nick was all
too familiar with, looking at it as if it contained the answer to all
his problems, before handing it to Nick and looking at him pleadingly.
"Please Nick, I can't live like this."
Nick stared at him, letting go of Greg in his shock.
"Please."
Now that both hands were free, he took the barrel of the semi-
automatic, and aimed it at his own chest.
"No�NO, Greg, you can't do this, you can't ask me to do this. The
virus can lay dormant for years, you can still lead a relatively
normal life."
"Normal? You call this�this isn't normal Nick, and I can't live
knowing what will happen to me one day. Just end it."
Greg seemed to have regained some of his senses, standing straighter,
eyes focussing on him more clearly, but Nick didn't think that he
knew what he was asking for, what he was asking Nick to do, so he
forcefully pulled that gun out of the younger man's fingers and
gently put his arms around Greg. The gun fell to the floor, forgotten
and Greg clung to Nick.
"I'm scared Nick. I'm scared, and I don't know what to do."
Gently running a hand through Greg's hair, he replied. "I know, Greg,
I know. We'll work through it, but you have to promise me that you'll
never try something like this again, and that you will trust me. Can
you do that?"
He pulled back a bit so that he could see Greg's face when he
answered.
"I think so, just don't leave me? I can't do this alone."
"Never, now come on, let's get you home."
<hr>
When Greg had been settled into bed at his apartment, with only a
mild protest as the alcohol added to the emotional upheaval meant
that he was exhausted, Nick stayed up a bit and read through the
results. There was a note asking Greg to make an appointment with a
Doctor to organise treatments etc.
Nick sighed, pushed the paper to one side, and lay down on the sofa
to get some sleep. They would talk more in the morning.
***************
CHAPTER 10
***************
When Greg woke up the following day with a mother of a hangover he
lay still, and some of the memories of the previous evening came back
to him. It wasn't completely clear, he remembered the test results
with a sickened feeling, running for a bit to clear his head, the
bar, and then it was just�fuzzy. But somehow he'd got home again, and
something told him he had Nick to thank for that.
Which meant that Nick had come looking for him, and Greg had been
pretty pissed at the time, in both senses of the word, and was likely
to have said something that he didn't mean, and Nick might have left.
He racked his cloudy brain for what that might have been, and though
he couldn't think what he was, he now felt a sense of foreboding at
facing Nick.
"What did I *do* last night?"
He pushed himself out of bed, pausing as the world started to spin
out of control. He waited until it stopped, and then changed, half
stumbling out of the bedroom, and into the living room, where Nick
was sat on the settee, looking up at him. When Greg slipped, he stood.
"Sit down, before fall down, G."
He complied, his fingers rising to rub his temples. Nick had
disappeared from view, leaving Greg to try and stop the pounding
inside his head and gather his thoughts.
When Nick came back into his field of vision with coffee and aspirin
outstretched towards him, he could have kissed him. Actually, he
would have kissed him anyway, and if he'd been clean he would've
done, but he couldn't, he wouldn't risk infecting Nick.
Gratefully, he took them and muttered, "Thanks."
They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes while Greg waited
for the caffeine and aspirin to kick in. It was unlike Nick to be so
quiet so he repeated his earlier question, this time to the older man.
"You did nothing." Nick answered way too quickly, keeping his face
down, refusing to meet Greg's eyes.
"Nick. Look at me." The CSI lifted his head to him. "Don't lie to me.
What did I do?"
Greg was surprised at how calm his voice was, despite how nervous he
now was, `Oh God, please tell me I didn't�'
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, Greg. No. It wasn't me that you tried to hurt." Nick was quick
to reassure the young man, whose distress was becoming obvious, and
Nick didn't want a repeat of last night, so he buckled.
"You�you asked me to�to�" Nick trailed off, and so picked up the gun,
that was lying on the table next to the pair, and handed it to Greg,
whose face took on an expression of confusion, then recognition, and
finally, horror.
"Please Nick, I can't live like this."
"No�NO, Greg, you can't do this, you can't ask me to do this."
"Oh God." Greg visibly paled, causing Nick to rush to his side in
concern, but Greg refused to touch him. "Nick�I�I don't know�I."
"Just promise me that you'll never do it again." Nick's voice
remained calm and unshaking,
"No Nick. God, I�I�didn't. I'm sorry, so sorry." Greg trailed off,
unsure of where to go from there, as he seemed unable to think
straight. He'd asked Nick to kill him? Sure, suicide was seeming like
quite an attractive proposition at the moment, but to ask Nick? He
must have been more desperate than he'd thought.
The silence got to Nick, What's the one thing you break by saying
it's name? Silence. And he did just that. Greg gave him a weird look
and so he continued.
"They want you to make an appointment with a Doctor. Begin treatment
ASAP."
Greg just nodded. "Can�uh, can you do it?"
"Sure."
"Look Greg, we'll get through this, OK. I won't let you do this
alone."
Unable to speak, as he was trying to fight the tears again, all he
received was another nod. Nick moved to sit next to Greg, hesitantly
putting an arm round his shoulders. The younger man leaned into the
other's embrace, still valiantly trying to hold his emotions in.
That was, until Nick whispered. "Let it out Greg, just let it out."
And he did, heart wrenching sobs taking over his body, the sounds
causing Nick to shed a few tears as well, murmuring comforting words
into Greg's ear. But what did you say in this situation? There was
nothing to comfort someone who knew that they were going to die. And
not painlessly, either.
But finally, Greg's body stilled and he quietened, but didn't pull
away from Nick, seeking some comfort in his friend's arms.
Breaking the silence, Nick asked. "I figured that we could watch a
movie tonight. Get a pizza? You haven't eaten in almost 24 hours, you
must be hungry by now."
Greg opened his eyes, about to argue it, but his stomach rumbled in
agreement, causing Nick to laugh. Instead he pointed out. "It's only
3pm Nick, that doesn't count as night."
"It can for our purposes. While you were asleep, I drove to the
nearest video store. We'll order a pizza. It'll be fun, you need
something to take your mind off�things."
It was easier not to mention exactly what `things' Nick meant, though
it was pretty obvious.
"What did you get?"
"Nightmare on Elm Street, and Fawlty Towers."
"What? Explain."
"It's a British comedy, there's only 12 episodes, and way I figure
it, we could use some laughs right now. You order the pizza, OK, and
I'll find the video."
<hr>
30 minutes later, and the pair were sat watching Fawlty towers, and
Greg had finally started laughing. When they first turned it on, Nick
was sure he'd been determined to stay depressed, but when Basil
collapsed under the moose' head, a smile had twitched and after the
German's arrived Nick watched as his young friends was almost doubled
over with laughter.
Basil: Is something wrong?
German Guest: Will you please stop talking about the war?
Basil: Me? You started it.
German Guest: We did not!
Basil: Yes you did, you invaded Poland.
Nick smiled at Greg's laughter, it was doing him a world of good.
Nick hadn't seem him laugh in over a week, and he sent a silent
prayer to John Cleese, for what he had done, even though he didn't
know it and joined Greg in amusement at Basil's Hitler impression.
After it had finished, Greg sighed, collapsing back onto the sofa.
"Thanks Nick, I needed that."
"I know you did, and we still have 11 episodes to watch. But not
tonight, I'm laughed out."
"Do you think the Germans would be offended by that?" Greg asked
taking on Basil, nasal like voice. "Oh you're *German*, I thought
there was something wrong with you."
And Nick was in peals of laughter again. They were interrupted
however by the phone ringing. Greg answered.
"Hey, Sanders here."
"Greg, you're sounding better." On the other end of the phone Grissom
smiled, relieved.
"Yeah, we were just watching Fawlty Towers."
"John Cleese? Never been that fond of his work myself, a man of
tragedy."
"Is this a social call Grissom? Or was there business to discuss?"
Grissom sucked all emotion out of his voice before replying.
"We need you to come in, Greg. For a line up. We think we have him,
but we want to make sure, you understand? Nick didn't work the case,
and so wouldn't know if it was him, or someone pretending to be."
Greg's good mood dissipated immediately, and his throat closed up, a
choking sound escaping, causing Grissom to sound concerned.
"No�I'm OK, when?"
"Tonight, if possible, we can only hold the suspect for 48 hours
without charging him."
"I'm coming."
TBC