Title: Requiescat in Pace Author: Korbjaeger Rating: PG (mild "language") Spoilers: Law of Gravity Summary: The fallout from Michael Keppler's death forces some in the crime lab to ask not only for answers, but for the right questions to ask. Disclaimer: Not my characters, just raiding CBS's stash temporarily... "We have to treat him as a suspect. I'll tell Ecklie." Catherine stared into her locker as if it were the abyss. What the hell was I thinking?! It was a question she had asked herself too many times. When she and Eddie had started having problems. After Holly Gribbs was killed on her first night on the job. After she'd had Greg run the DNA test that confirmed her heritage and tainted a case. After Phil Swelco met an undeserved end. When she'd given up her heart, piece by piece, to a man who hadn't known it and had married another woman. And now, again, after leaving her teammates in the dark and getting too cozy - even if only professionally - to a man so doomed, from so long ago, that it threatened to drag anyone that close along in its sinking, dying vortex. She had an intuitiveness she was rightfully proud of, and yet, all too often, as Sara had told her, she "thought with her heart, not her mind." This had been one of those times. If they'd told one other person...one... "Still kicking your own ass, Cat?" She looked up at the sound of Jim Brass' voice and forced a smile. "Hey, Jim. Yeah, seems like the best thing I do anymore." The veteran captain sat beside her. "You know, learning from your mistakes is one thing. It's a good thing. God knows I've done my share of it and then some. But just sitting here, being pissed at yourself..." "That's just it, though..." Catherine raised her hands slightly, palms up, and shook them slightly for emphasis. "What the hell did I learn from this?" "I'll tell you what I learned," Brass sighed. "For starters, some people are just so screwed up there's no unscrewing them. And they may be the nicest and most well-meaning of people. I think Mike Keppler was a good guy, at the end of the day. Good heart. He just got himself entangled in a situation he should have stayed a million miles away from. How was he gonna know, though? He got suckered in by a complete bastard. Over the years, it just grew and got infected and...well, you see where I'm going. It's like a disease that got left untreated and ended up spreading before it killed him." "I know, but I can't help feeling..." Catherine's voice lowered slightly, "...there had to be something I could have done differently." "What? You gave him the benefit of the doubt. If you hadn't...look, Catherine, this was gonna have a bad end, one way or another. And now we've got half the lab needing therapy over this crap. Cat..." Brass reached up and squeezed her shoulder. "Listen to me. Every person here does the best they can, makes the best decision they can, at any given moment. If anyone here was giving less than that, they'd be out of a job. But we can all improve. It ain't always fun, but it's necessary. I'm still learning from it, and if an old geezer like me can learn..." "You are not an old geezer," Catherine corrected him, giving him a grateful, affectionate smile. Brass gave her a crinkled grin that silently said, "Get outa here...", then continued, in a softer voice, "You know what I'm getting at." "Yeah." "Is it sinking in?" "No." "Couple of scotches will help that..." Brass stood. "Or what is it you gals are all drinking nowadays - Cosmos?" "Cosmos? That is so five years ago..." Brass shrugged. "Hey, I don't get out much. After shift, what do you say, couple drinks to a lesson well learned?" "Lemme see what Grissom sticks me with," Catherine replied, feeling somewhat lighter in spirit. "If he doesn't have me working a double, I may just take you up on that." Brass patted her shoulder and was about to leave, when Catherine had another thought. "Hey - you're going back to Jersey in a few days, aren't you?" "Yeah, old high school buddy's little girl's getting married. I had a couple days available, thought I'd go." "You gonna..." They looked at one another, and Brass knew what she was going to ask. "I'm mostly gonna be in Secaucus, but yeah, I'm gonna go by Trenton. See if he has any family around still. If not, I know his old supervisor from back in the day." "What are you going to tell them?" "That Mike Keppler died in the line of duty, that he gave his life to save a fellow officer." Catherine barely heard Brass' footsteps as he left. "At the end of the day", that was the bottom line, wasn't it? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "He just disabled his GPS. Smart guy." "Guilty guy." Greg leaned down and peered more closely at the monitor. Archie frowned. "Need glasses?" "No, but I can see why you wear contacts," Greg half-laughed in response. Just then, Archie straightened. Greg noticed, and looked in the same direction the A/V tech was. Wendy Simms. Solemn. Obviously headed out on break. Archie looked as if he wanted to call out to her, but he remained silent. "I heard her bite your head off when you came in," Greg said. "What was up with that?" "Let it go," Archie sighed, shrugging slightly. "She's still pissed at us about...you know, the Keppler mess." "I kinda had that feeling, but...why?" "I think she had, I dunno, kind of a crush on the guy. I just got that impression. She feels we sorta rushed to judgement." Archie scrolled down a list of video files and selected one. "Four minutes into this..." Greg looked at him. "Do you think we did?" Archie shrugged again, looking sad. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean...we were working with the information we had. We were..." "...just doing our job?" Meeting Greg's gaze, Archie sighed, "I guess so. Sometimes, though...I'm not a hundred percent clear on where 'doing our job' ends and 'going out on a limb' begins anymore." "I hear ya, Arch. It's part of the territory, though." "Yeah, like that little issue of that audio tape Grissom had me analyze on the down-low a few months ago." Greg made a face and nodded. "Yeah, I remember." "I still don't know if Nick's forgiven me..." "He has. You haven't forgiven yourself, that's the problem. You did what you were supposed to do. Grissom's your supervisor. Same in this case. We both had the best information available at the time. We both did what was the right thing at the time." "But what about now?" Greg gave Archie a look of understanding. "When are you going to stop beating yourself up, Archie? Hey, I feel like crap about it too...but there wasn't one thing we could have done differently that would have made the situation any better. If anything, it might have been worse. Catherine could have been hurt too. We couldn't fix what got broken almost twenty years ago. I know if I say 'let it go' about this, you won't...but try. This time, try. We can't change what happened. Wendy's going to have to accept it too." "Yeah..." Archie's voice sounded slightly choked. He knew Greg was right, and was grateful he was there, as a friend and a "sounding board" as well as a valued co-worker...and one he knew trusted him. "Thanks, Greg. I guess I just needed to talk it out." "Well, I am a good listener..." Greg patted him on the back. "Back in a couple minutes. Hey - two milks, one sugar, right?" Archie managed a slight grin. "You are a good listener." Greg smiled and slapped the side of the entrance to the lab as he headed toward the break room. Staring at the video monitor, Archie noticed his vision blurring slightly. He closed his eyes, trying to ease the strain, trying to quell the hint of tears that threatened. Wendy's words had cut, but Greg was right. She, like he, like all of them, would have to let it go. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "I guess I'm the ass man." Grissom glanced over the leave request form, still frowning. "Nick...I know things have been a little tense around here, but..." "But what?" Nick's demeanor was uncharacteristically harsh, and where his supervisor was concerned, far more assertive than the norm. "I need the time, Gil. I've been denying that fact for over a year now, and what's wrong has been continuing to build up and build up. I can either take a couple weeks now, or let it go on and end up messing up, blowing up at people, maybe blowing a case. I think you can afford to cut me loose for two weeks." Grissom wasn't so sure. "There isn't any way you could hang on for another couple weeks until..." "Until what? You think the workload will lighten up? How do you predict that kind of thing? Aim for an after-spring-break, before-summer-vacation lull, and we get a building collapse or something. No, Gil. If the last two years has taught me anything, it's to know and respect my limits. Besides, you've got Greg..." "Greg's distracted. This civil suit..." "Oh, come on! Look...Greg's as professional an investigator as I've ever seen, young as he is. The suit? Sure, it's a pain - but it's not distracting him from his work. It won't, either, you mark my words. If things get that bad around here, call in swing shift, lord knows we've had to cover their asses enough times." With a sigh, Grissom sat back in his chair. "After...after you were taken by Walter Gordon...you took some time off, went down, stayed with your parents. When you came back to Vegas, you were your old self again..." "No, I wasn't." "...you were relaxed, clear-minded, ready to work." "That, I give you. My head was clear enough to work. But my 'old self'? I'm never going to be that person again. I'm just trying to find the best person Nick Stokes can be now, and be that person, that investigator, to the absolute best of my ability. Right now...it's not clear." Grissom toyed with the clip on his pen. "So, where will you go?" "Haven't decided. Maybe Monterey. Go watch the peregrine falcons. Or, hell, maybe somewhere I haven't been yet. I don't know, Gil..." Nick's tone softened, and he leaned forward, forearms on the edge of Grissom's desk. "This isn't anything against you, or Ecklie, or anyone in this building...but we're all affected right now. I just know what I need to do to fix it - to fix me. Let me fix me. Please, Gil." Their gaze locked and burned like a tug of war, father and son, mentor and pupil, in that pulling apart that crackled with inevitibility. Grissom's gaze turned sad, then lowered. "Will you at least stay until Monday? Just to get us through the weekend." "Monday, fine." Nodding, Grissom signed the request form. The form felt strange in Nick's hand as he headed back toward the locker room. He didn't know what results would be born of it. He hoped he would come back, see Wendy smile, Archie relax, Greg unworried, Catherine happy. He knew there was no guarantee. But just the uncertainty, the potential, the residual crackle from asserting himself to Grissom, made the paper feel odd, almost electrically charged, in his hand. He hoped it was a good sign.
I really like this. I liked Keppler I have read some of your other work and you have such depth to the characters. Keep it up