The Savior of the Broken

racefh853629

racefh853629

Pathologist
This is one of the stories I'm most proud of... haha. Some of you who go to ff.net may recognize this story (it wasn't huge, but I still liked it haha). So, it's an AU that falls post-season 7. I hope you guys enjoy it, it's rated PG-13. It contains references of assault (physical and sexual, but it's never described in detail), occasional bad language, random other languages, and character death. Definite character death. If any of this is against the rules, I apologize, and can edit it out. I have an OC that is a central character... you'll meet her better in the next chapter. Having said that, I hope you guys enjoy the story, as I loved writing it. :)

*~*~*~*

Prologue: The End of the Line


The funeral was over now, Greg realized, as he remained standing at the foot of the black casket waiting to be lowered. Grissom stood beside him, crying softly, which normally would have seemed weird to Greg, but not today. Catherine and Lindsey were hugging behind Grissom, both sobbing as the final words of the final prayer were uttered. Tina was holding onto a somber, saddened Warrick as Nick stood back a bit from the team, crying but trying not to show it. Greg felt dead inside, numb, and unsure of where to go from here.

As most of the crowd departed, the graveyard CSIs were left alone. Together they stood, no one speaking, all thinking about how they failed to save their beloved colleague. Brass and Sofia remained with them, as did Archie, Mandy, Wendy, Henry, Hodges, Bobby Dawson, and Ecklie. Standing next to Ecklie was someone Greg recognized as a day shift CSI, but he didn’t know which one. He didn’t really know them anyway.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and the former DNA tech turned to face Brass. “Hey, kid,” the older detective said.

“Hey,” Greg replied quietly.

“How you holdin’ up?” The younger man shrugged, looking back at the casket.

“I keep thinking this is just a really bad nightmare that I’ll wake up from. Or, at least, I keep hoping that.” Brass nodded his understanding.

“It’s tough.”

“She didn’t deserve this.”

“No one does.” Greg sighed, his heart heavy with regret and words left unspoken.

“I feel really numb,” he told the captain quietly.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Brass threw his arm around Greg’s shoulders, squeezing him gently.

“It really hasn’t hit me yet, I don’t think. I guess maybe the first shift without her is when it will.”

“Yeah.” Greg looked back over at Brass, his normally jubilant eyes filled with sadness.

“I don’t ever want to forget her,” he said softly.

“I don’t think I ever will,” Brass replied, his voice laced with fondness and recollections.

“She helped me so much more than I think she knew. I just… can’t grasp this. I hate Natalie so much.”

“We all do. She’ll get what she deserves.”

“Yeah.” Greg sighed again, and Brass gave his shoulders another squeeze. The kid turned his gaze back to the coffin, his face somber with tears not quite ready to fall hiding in the depths of his soul.

“Guys,” Grissom began softly, his voice wrenched with sadness and barely carrying above the wind. “You’re all invited to dinner at my place tonight.” They all nodded as the day shift girl left in tears. Brass patted Greg on the shoulder before letting go and walking away with Sofia. Henry, Mandy, Archie, Wendy, Hodges, and Bobby Dawson left together, Ecklie trailing behind them sadly. Warrick and Tina slowly turned and left, walking painstakingly to their car. Catherine and Lindsey walked over to Grissom, who put the flower in his hand on top of the casket before backing away with the girls and heading for the limo. Nick hung back for a moment before moving his way beside Greg, who glanced over at the older CSI.

“C’mon,” Nick said softly.

“In a minute,” Greg replied. Nick nodded and, picking up on the fact that Greg wanted to be alone for a minute, backed away again. The young CSI looked sadly at the flowers, wreaths, and casket. The remnants of his fallen idol. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the casket. “We failed, and I’m so sorry. I love you.” He placed his hand on the polished, stained black wood. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” His voice cracked, but the tears still didn’t fall. “Rest in peace, Sara.” He backed away, walking over to where Nick was waiting for him. The veteran criminalist looked at Greg briefly before throwing an arm around his shoulders silently, pulling the younger man along with him. They left the cemetery, their physical bodies the only part of them intact and whole as their entire metaphysical and emotional worlds were shattered and irreversibly damaged.
 
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LYK OMG I luv this fanfic. I read every chapter of it lyk a bajillion times over at ff.net. It's lyk the best stry eva.

No joke though, it is amazing. I DO love this story. I'm excited to get to read it again.

Update soon!
 
It's nice to see that you guys are liking this story. :) Okay, here she comes. My conscience has caused me to censor her somewhat (basically taking out the f-words). Also, there's some Spanish in this chapter, and the translations are at the bottom (I used freetranslation.com, so I know it's not the best, and I apologize)... Enjoy :)

*~*~*~*

Chapter 1: The New Girl


“Hey, ya’ll,” Nick said dully as he entered the break room on their first night back at work after Sara’s death. The entire shift had been forced to take two weeks of bereavement leave in the aftermath, with the option of taking more. No one took the option, though.

“Hey,” Catherine replied. Warrick slapped Nick’s back gently, and Nick patted his friend’s arm. Greg stared at the powered off TV, oblivious to the fact that anyone else was in the room, let alone that Nick just walked in.

“How’s he doin’?” Nick gestured at the zoned out Greg.

“No idea,” Warrick replied quietly. Before Nick could try to get Greg’s attention, Grissom, Ecklie, and a girl walked in.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Ecklie asked. Nick, Catherine, and Warrick looked at him while Greg continued to be off in his own world. Ecklie frowned, feeling sorry for the kid who wasn’t taking Sara’s death well at all. “Greg?” he addressed him gently. At hearing his name, Greg jumped and looked at Ecklie. “Thank you. This young lady is Catalina Salvatori.” She scowled at Ecklie as he gestured in her direction. “She’s going to be your sixth.” Nick and Warrick glanced at one another as Catherine whispered something to Grissom. Greg zoned out again, staring at Ecklie’s ever-growing bald spot. “She came onto days a little while ago, but she’s all yours now.” He narrowed his gaze at her briefly before leaving the room. The graveyard CSIs, save Greg, turned their gaze to her.

“Don’t, under any circumstances, call me Catalina,” she began curtly. “Or Cathy, Cath, Cat, Kitty, Katie, Kate, Lee, Lina, Leeny, or any other variation of Catalina that you can come up with.”

“Is there anythin’ we can call you?” Nick snapped, annoyed.

“God forbid I hate variations of my first name.”

“What the hell do you want us to call you?”

“People call me Amelia, Amie, Aimee, Mia, Lia, Michelle, Chelle, Mischa, Mitch, Elle, or Shelly. Take your f***ng pick, Stokes.”

“So, you know all of us, but we don’t get to know you,” Warrick said softly.

“You know all you need to know,” Mia replied.

“You knew Sara,” Greg said softly. Mia snapped her head to him along with everyone else in the room as he glanced over in her general direction. “You were at the funeral, standing beside Ecklie.”

“Yes, I was.” The other four bounced their gaze between Mia and Greg. “What’s it to you, Sanders?”

“Nothing.” Greg turned back to the TV, staring at the blank screen again.

“Good show?”

“Perfect.” Before Mia had a chance to piss off everyone else, Grissom cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention except Greg’s.

“Nick, you and… uh… Mia have a 419 at Gilbert College. Remember your manners. Catherine, you and Greg have a dead body of your own in the desert. Warrick and I have a B&E in Henderson.”

“Great,” Nick muttered to himself.

“Let’s roll, Porky,” Mia said. Nick glared at her.

“I’m driving.” The pair left, followed shortly by Grissom and Warrick, both of them going through the motions. Catherine turned to Greg, seeing the young man still staring at the TV.

“Greg?” she said softly.

“Ready when you are,” he told her as he stood. She sighed, knowing that he was hurting but wouldn’t say anything. She slung her arm around his shoulders, and he sighed. “I’m okay, Catherine.”

“I’m worried, Greg.”

“I’m fine.” She sighed again, letting go of him as they walked out.

*~*~*~*

Nick and Mia walked into the president’s office, and Dr. Gilbert sighed. “You again,” she groaned. “Great.”

“My name is Mia,” Mia signed. Nick looked surprised, and Dr. Gilbert smiled softly. “We’re here to help you find out what happened to your student.”

“I don’t want you guys to make things worse,” she signed back. Nick looked at Mia.

“We’ll try our best not to. We really want to help.”

“I appreciate it and your kindness.” Mia smiled sweetly, and Nick looked confused.

“Do you mind showing us to the room?” Dr. Gilbert shook her head. “Thank you. Is there anything we should know about him or his roommate?”

“Michael was a good student,” she said aloud. “He was pretty well-liked. There wasn’t anyone who really had anything against him. His roommate came in and found him tonight. They were good friends, really cared for each other. It was hard for Jason to see him like that.” They reached the room, and Vartann smiled at them sadly.

“Where is Jason now?” Nick asked.

“The library,” she replied. “He can only sign, though. He can’t read lips.”

“Thank you,” Mia said. Dr. Gilbert nodded, walking away.

“So, you know sign language?” Nick asked as they got to work.

“No, absolutely not,” Mia retorted. Nick groaned.

“Why are you bein’ such a bitch?”

“Because I am one. Now, let’s not fight at the crime scene.” Nick shook his head, aggravated.

“You’re new here, so I don’t think you understand what myself and the rest of the team is going through.”

“Sí, entiendo. Sara fue mi amigo también, usted sabe.”

“Really.”

“Sí. Ella fue la única persona que trató de saberme.”

“That’s because you’re a bitch.”

“No cuando usted me sabe. Usted no me sabe.”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

“Su elección.”

“Do you possess the ability to be nice for two minutes?”

“Sí.”

“Why don’t you use it?”

“Porque yo le odio.”

“Usted no me sabe,” Nick mocked. Mia grumbled.

“Cállese.”

“No.”

“Hey, kids,” Vartann said. “I’ve got to use the bathroom. Don’t kill each other in foreign languages while I’m gone.” The pair didn’t hear him, still engrossed in their bilingual argument.

“Yo le odio mucho,” Mia growled, her voice full of venom.

“Yo le odio right back at ya!” Nick replied.

“Coma mierda.” Nick chose not to respond, selecting instead to process in silence to avoid further arguments. Vartann returned to find them not even speaking, and as nice as he found the lack of argument, the silence was mildly more irritating. After finishing processing and talking with the roommate, Nick and Mia left the dorm. They climbed into the car and were on their way before Nick looked over in her direction. Seeing the depressed Texan watching her, she sighed. “I don’t really hate you,” she said quietly, looking back out the window.

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve heard about you, how you’re tough on everyone, but you rarely hate people.”

“You’ve heard about me, but you didn’t know who I was.”

“Right.”

“Well, let me quell some rumors with you. I don’t take drugs, I don’t push drugs, I don’t drink, and I’ve never been a prostitute.” Nick arched his eyebrows at the last one, and she looked at him. “Don’t look like that, Stokes. I get that one a lot.”

“Right. Well, that at least takes a few items off the list.”

“I’m hard to get along with.”

“Oh, believe me, Princess, I’ve noticed.” She groaned.

“I don’t hate you right now, but you’re pushing me toward it.”

“Well, I wish you’d be nicer. For Christ’s sake, we’re goin’ through hell, and you’re makin’ it worse!”

“Would you rather have me be all kind and gentle and not be me so that when you guys are all feeling better, I can go back to myself and have you guys all wondering what happened? Or would you rather get to know me for who and what I really am right off the bat?”

“You don’t have to be this way, Mia. You can change.” She snorted, shaking her head.

“Take off your rose colored glasses, Stokes. The nice people are the ones that get shit on the most.” Realizing that she had divulged more than she had wanted, she turned to the window, steeling herself from saying anything else. Nick glanced over at her, and by the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t getting more out of her. Sighing, he looked back out the windshield. He knew from the second Grissom had assigned him to work with her, there was going to be a problem. He made a mental note to tell Grissom to never pair the two of them again. Judging by the fact that they fought at a crime scene, though, Grissom would know better. Nick shook his head, pulling into his spot at the lab. This was shaping up to be a long night.

*~*~*~*

Translations:

“Yes, I understand. Sara was my friend too, you know.”
“Yes. She was the only person who tried to know me.”
“Not when you know me. You don’t know me.”
“Your choice.”
“Because I hate you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Shut up.”
“I hate you a lot.”
“I hate you.”
“Eat shit.”
 
Chapter 2: Mourning

Grissom walked into his empty townhouse, dropping his keys on the side table by the door. The one Sara had suggested they get. He frowned, the thought of her comforting and depressing at the same time. Bruno, their dog, padded his way into the entry at hearing his master’s return. He stood a little distance away from Grissom, wagging the back half of his body in lieu of his tail. Grissom hung up his coat before walking over to the dog. “Hey, Bruno,” he said softly. “You been a good boy?” He scratched the dog between the ears, and Bruno licked his hand in appreciation. Grissom patted the dog before moving further into the house.

Her stuff still took up its former residence in the nooks and crannies of his house. He didn’t have the heart to move it, and didn’t think he ever would. Three weeks after her death, and he couldn’t will himself to do anything. He was barely sleeping, barely eating, and by the looks of his team, he wasn’t the only one.

Sighing, he poured himself a glass of wine and picked up a book off a shelf in the living room. Glasses perched on his nose and Bruno curled up on the couch beside him, he began to read without realizing what he had picked up. As he read the opening lines of Romeo and Juliet for what had to be the thousandth time, he found himself unable to continue. He put the book down, took off his glasses, and sighed.

Three weeks ago, they had found the love of his life trapped under a car. Three weeks ago, she was pronounced dead at the scene. Vegas’s finest had failed. As the paramedics backed away from the body, he turned to his team, the tears streaming down his face masked by the pouring rain. Their reactions to the news were something he would never get out of his brain. They formed a huddle in the middle of the desert with Brass and Sofia, all of them distraught beyond belief. They had failed.

Any other time a team member had been in danger, everything had turned out okay. Nick had been found before he suffocated, Greg had survived the explosion and getting beaten up. It seemed as though this time, their luck had run out.

Grissom allowed himself to not just cry, but sob over his lost love. So young, so full of life, all of that taken away by a psycho with a penchant for building tiny models. He felt his life falling apart, his team falling apart, and none of it mattered. Sara wasn’t here, and that’s what killed him most of all.

*~*~*~*

Catherine walked into her empty house, dropping her keys onto the side table by the door. Lindsey was at school and her mother was at her own house. Sighing, she dropped her pocketbook onto the coat rack along with her jacket. She walked into her living room and sank into the couch cushions.
Three weeks since Sara died, and she was having trouble sleeping, couldn’t eat, and she knew the boys were feeling the same. The team had gotten to the point where they were barely speaking to each other. There were no more after shift breakfasts, before shift dinners, or chatter in the break room. It was go in, solve the crime, leave with everything hopefully the same as before, go home, pretend to eat and sleep, and start again.

That night in the desert had changed everyone. They had rushed to the scene to find the paramedics backing away, shaking their heads. They had lost her under that car. She was dead when they got there, and their attempts to revive her did nothing. Catherine remembered looking at the faces of her team members as she held a broken Grissom. Nick was angrier than she’d ever seen him, and Warrick was crying. Greg stood there, silent, letting the rain pound his face, watching in horror. Brass and Sofia had stood next to each other, both crying as well.

She allowed herself to not just cry, but sob over everything. Sara’s death, the family she once had falling apart around her. It killed her, and she didn’t know if they’d ever be a family again. Nick and Greg had long been the glue that held the team together, but their ability to do so had apparently been lost that fateful night.

Wiping away her tears, she resolved to start making things right. Starting with Grissom. She picked up her phone and dialed his number. Upon hearing him answer in tears, she said “Grissom, it’s Catherine. I was wondering if you wanted to do something…”

*~*~*~*

Nick sat on his couch, staring at the TV. For three weeks he had come home and done the same thing- sit by himself and stare at the TV. He’d catch naps on the couch, maybe pick up something to eat on the way home from work, but the middle cushion of his couch had become forever pressed into the shape of his rear-end.

Three weeks. Three long, excruciating weeks of missing Sara, hating her killer, going to funeral services, and watching the unique bond of the team fall apart. He knew Greg and he were the two that could weather the team through everything with strength and laughter, but Nick was fresh out of both. He felt sucked dry, like the victim of a particularly thirsty vampire.

The only things still in him were pain and anger. He hurt for himself, his friends, the loss of Sara. He raged at Natalie for taking away a good friend of his. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Sara was too good of a person to meet her end like that.

They had failed. More than anything, that was a resounding theme with him. They hadn’t failed in finding him buried underground, but when it came to Sara under a car in the desert, they had failed. They had failed, and she was dead. And that made Nick hurt more than anything.

*~*~*~*

Warrick sat on his couch, staring at the TV. Tina sat next to him, massaging his shoulder gently. Him, like the rest of the team, hadn’t been taking Sara’s death well. This had become a daily occurrence- the two of them sitting together, Warrick upset and Tina trying to comfort him by rubbing his shoulder.

Three weeks, and he hadn’t eaten much, hadn’t slept much. Tina kept threatening to sedate him and make him sleep, but she hadn’t made good on that yet. There was still time, though, according to her. Warrick didn’t say much of anything, and Tina wasn’t going to push the issue either. She knew that this was the way he was, and he knew he could always talk to her about anything.

He rested his head back, finding hers. They had failed Sara, he knew that, and he hated that more than anything. The team was falling apart because they had failed to save their beloved colleague. He sighed softly, and Tina kept rubbing his shoulder. He needed to break this, get out of this habit. With a quick word to Tina about what he was thinking, she agreed with his plan as he grabbed the phone.

“Nick? It’s Warrick. I was wonderin’ if you wanted to hang out…”

*~*~*~*

Greg felt awkward standing there, so he sat down. He brought his knees to his chest as he rolled back onto his bed, crashing into the pillows at the head. He knew the entire team was falling apart, and that his humor usually could get them through everything. But the humor had gone three weeks ago when he, along with the rest of the team, had failed to save Sara.

Seeing the paramedics back away from her lifeless body proved to be more than he could stand. He felt as though part of him died that day, the part that was all about living life and being happy. He wasn’t sure where he was going, what he was doing, anything anymore. He was feeling more and more like the odd-man out.

Status linked Grissom and Catherine, both being supervisors to some degree. Plus, they were both almost the parents of the team. Nick and Warrick had been best friends long before Greg had gotten out into the field, and throughout all the trials and tribulations that had come. Greg had bonded, had always fit in well with them, but he didn’t feel like he should be there now.

He sighed, keeping his knees to his chest as the numbness continued its stranglehold on his emotions. There was nothing more he could do. He couldn’t take his mind off of it, so he sat there, in the dark, staring at the window. This had become his life. He was alone.

*~*~*~*

Mia felt awkward standing there, so she sat down. She looked at the two other girls on either side of her, sighing softly. Three weeks, and she was in her second set of funeral services for a friend of hers. On either side of her were Alex’s biological sisters, but Mia had always been a surrogate sister since the two of them had met in boarding school in Italy. Even after Mia had left school, she and Alex had still been best friends.

Mia excused herself, walking out of the memorial before the mass for the quietness of another room. The hustle and bustle was getting to her, and she had just come off a particularly aggravating shift. This time, Catherine had gotten to her, and she had quickly realized that there was no one on that team that she could really work with.

Except maybe Sanders, but it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t allowed an underling just yet. When he became a level 2, though, things could be different. Mia didn’t care either way. She allowed herself to cry, alone in the sanctity of the room, away from the crowds. She had lost two good friends in a matter of three weeks.

Mia had first met Sara when Ecklie had forced them to sit down together. In the director’s opinion, Mia was a lot like Sara, and so Mia was forced to stay late while Sara had to come early while the two of them chatted. It ended up working out decently, because they did have commonalities and Sara was good at helping Mia out.

Mia hadn’t been part of the team that found Sara, for which she was thankful. She would never want to see Sara like that. For the same reason, she was glad she hadn’t seen Alex that way either. She had already been transferred off of days by that point, and it had fallen into their domain. She had known, though, that they had ruled it an accident. Mia was okay with that, but it still hurt that Alex was gone. Her soul sister had left her. She was alone.
 
I censored this chapter from the version that appears on ff.net... just so you guys know. :)

*~*~*~*

Chapter 3: Level 2 Trips


Greg walked into the break room, his eyes trained on the floor. Nick, Warrick, Catherine, Mia, and Grissom, who had all arrived early that night, watched him curiously. “Greg?” Grissom said.

“I’m fine,” Greg replied, his gaze never leaving the floor.

“Greg, please.” The young CSI obliged, looking up. While he barely noticed the party set up for him, his friends took in every bruise and cut on his face. No one spoke for a minute, until Mia finally broke the silence.

“Holy shit, kid,” she said, walking forward toward Greg. “You okay?”'

“Fine,” Greg repeated.

“What happened, sweetie?” Her voice was soft, surprising Greg as she brushed her soft hand over his swollen cheek gently. He had never heard her talk so sweetly before.

“I tripped over my neighbor’s dog and fell down the stairs.” She arched her eyebrows.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Ask my landlord. She’ll tell you.”

“Kid, I don’t even fucking trust you. I sure as hell ain’t gonna trust your landlord.” He shrugged.

“Fine, don’t. I don’t care. It’s on surveillance video anyway.”

“Did you get checked out?” Nick asked as Mia backed away.

“Yeah, Edna made me,” Greg said. “I’m fine. It’s all superficial, except for my bruised ego.” They chuckled as Greg finally recognized the party stuff. “Umm, guys, what’s going on here?”

“Well, not the kind of surprise we were hoping to give you,” Catherine said.

“Congratulations, Greg,” Grissom said. “You are now officially a CSI 2.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling. Everyone except for Mia threw in their congrats, with the latter giving him a smile and a wink.

“Your first assignment as a 2 is a 419 with Warrick out on Boulder Highway. Nick, you and Mia have an assault and please, behave and no bilingual fights tonight. Catherine and I have a body on the Strip.”

“Good luck,” Warrick told Nick, giving him a ‘glad I’m not you’ smile.

“Thanks,” Nick deadpanned. “I’m gonna need it.”

“Let’s go, Tex,” Mia snapped, causing Nick to groan as he followed her out of the break room. Greg chuckled at Nick’s childlike response.

“You’ve never worked a case with her, have you?” Warrick asked as Grissom and Catherine left the room.

“No,” Greg replied. “She’s only been with us for two weeks.”

“When you do work a case with her, you’ll understand where he’s coming from.”

“She doesn’t seem that bad.”

“She is.”

“Well, I won’t be able to know for myself until we have a huge case or until I’m a 3… right?”

“Don’t ask me, man. We didn’t really have any 1s stick around long when I was a 2. Remember?” Greg nodded. “You’d have to ask Grissom, but I’d imagine that since you seem to be the only one remotely fond of the idea of working with her, he might let it slide.”

“Why doesn’t anyone like working with her?”

“She’s aggravating, argumentative, and if you believe day shift, she’s suicidal. Wait until you work with her. Cath, Nick, and I all have, and it’s been pretty bad.”

“What does Grissom think?” Warrick shrugged.

“No one knows for sure, but I don’t think he’s wildly fond of her either.”

“I’m pretty sure Ecklie hates her too.”

“Oh, no doubt. Ecklie hates everyone.”

“Yeah, I know. He used to rag on me when I would cover days as a tech. Didn’t get much better when I moved into the field, and it continues to get worse.” He sighed, and Warrick shook his head.

“Hey, don’t think like that. Our crime’s sad enough. Don’t depress yourself now.”

“Right. Let’s roll.” Warrick shook his head at Greg’s phrase as they left for their scene.

*~*~*~*

“Victim’s at the hospital,” Brass told Mia and Nick as they arrived. “Her name’s Patricia Jackson, age 18.”


“A kid,” Nick muttered sadly.

“Scene’s all yours.”

“Great. Let’s go, Starshine.” Mia grumbled.

“Right behind you, Chubby Cheeks,” she replied. Nick groaned. “Hey, don’t start somethin’ if you’re not prepared for it to come back.”

“Whatever.” They walked into the house quietly, saying nothing to each other as they began to work.

“I haven’t seen anything like this in a while,” Brass whispered to Nick.

“What?” he replied, matching Brass’s volume.

“Silent processing?”

“Cuts down on the screamin’ matches in multiple languages.” Brass nodded, knowing that the story of Nick and Mia’s first night together had already gotten through homicide at least twice in the two weeks since, with tales of Mia’s crazy antics growing each time.

“She that bad?”

“I’d rather work with Ecklie.” He chuckled.

“I’ve never had the delight of seeing her in action. What makes her so bad?”

“I don’t take any crap,” she said from her spot across the room. She whipped her head around and looked Brass square in the eye. “And I have really good hearing.” Brass nodded, half-smiling to himself.

“Right. Well, I’m going to go talk to the neighbors.” Nick nodded, and the pair continued processing without a sound. After a while, Mia spoke.

“I’ve got semen,” she uttered, her voice almost inaudible. Nick stopped, turning and looking over at her as she sat back on her feet, rubbing her face with her ungloved wrist.

“Sexual assault?” he asked.

“Looks like it.” Her voice sounded almost sad, Nick realized, but he let it go.

“When you’re processin’ the vic, make sure to do a SART exam.”

“Right.” She swabbed the semen, putting it in her kit as Nick walked closer, watching her critically.

“You okay?” She looked over to find him about four feet away.

“Yeah, fine.” She stood up slowly, and Nick grabbed her arm gently. She flinched, but Nick didn’t notice.

“You sure?” She nodded before looking up at his concerned eyes.

“I’m fine, Tubbawubba,” she told him, her voice carrying its usual ice. He smiled softly at its return.

“Alright, cool,” he said, letting go of her arm.

“I think we’re finished here.”

“Yeah, I think we’re just about good. Let’s head over to the hospital.” She nodded, grabbing her stuff and packing up. “I’ll see you at the car.”

“Don’t threaten me.” He chuckled, and she arched her eyebrows. “That wasn’t a joke.”

“I’m sorry. I’m amused that you’re a little more human today than normal.” She shook her head.

“Of course you’d find that amusing.”

“You know, if there’s somethin’ wrong and you need to talk…”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was like liquid nitrogen, causing Nick to shake his head. As tiny as she was, she sure knew how to freeze and cut through people.

“Right. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Don’t disappear again, Pudge.” She sauntered out the door, and he shook his head.

“She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” Brass said as he walked in.

“You can say that again,” Nick replied, packing up.

“All done?”

“Pretty much. Just got one more thin’.” Nick took one last swab before tucking it away in his kit.

“You guys work fast.”

“She does.” Brass raised his eyebrows.

“Quicker isn’t always better.”

“She’s fast and thorough, surprisin’ly. She’s a better CSI as a 1 than Ecklie ever was, and she does it in about the same amount of time.” He tilted his head in confusion.

“How?”

“Damned if I know.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.” Nick finished packing up.

“Where’d she go?”

“Over to the car. We’re headin’ to the hospital so she can process the vic.” Brass nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Alright. Take care and good luck.”

“Thanks.” Nick patted Brass on the shoulder as he walked out to his car and to Mia. She sat quietly in the front seat, her feet up on the dashboard, bringing her knees into her chest. She watched out the window quietly at Nick climbed in. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked her as he closed the door.

“I’m fine,” she replied, glancing quickly over at him. “Now start the damn car so we can process that girl.” Nick shrugged, turning the engine over and driving to Desert Palms. Their drive was short and silent.

“I’m gonna get this stuff over to the lab so they can start,” he said softly. “Call when you need a ride.”

“Okay,” she said as she got out. As she walked in the parking lot, a man called to her.

“I need help!” he said, blood covering his shirt. Nick watched from the car, having not moved yet, as Mia walked over to the man.

“What happened to you, sir?” she asked, seemingly caring and comforting. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine, but you’re not, Miss Salvatori.” He pulled out a gun, pointing it at her. Nick quickly radioed in the situation, calling for immediate backup. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go into that hospital. I know why you’re here.”

“Really? You do?”

“You’re here to process Trish. She’s fine, just clumsy.”

“Right. She just happened to nakedly fall on your exposed penis.” He cocked the gun, holding it a foot from her face. Nick quietly slipped out of the car, more concerned about his coworker’s safety than the possible broken chain of custody. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

“I’ll kill you if you move, bitch.”

“Go ahead,” she said, taking a step closer. The man’s finger flinched on the trigger as she lunged for him, knocking him back. He hit her across the face with the gun before rolling over on top of her. He thrust the gun under her chin as Nick drew his own weapon. “You know, I’m not scared. I don’t think you have the guts to shoot me.”

“Oh really.”

“Shooting makes it final, which means you can’t hurt me anymore. It’s pointless. You can’t control me, can’t make me suffer, not if I’m already dead. So pulling the trigger is pointless for you. But, if I’m still alive, and if I’m afraid, you can do whatever you want with me, because you know my fear would make me your submissive. Except for one thing. I’m not afraid of you. You want to kill me? Go ahead.” His finger again twitched on the trigger, and she shook her head. “No guts loser.”

Nick could hear every taunting word Mia was saying, and wondered to himself how she hadn’t been killed yet. He took another step closer, almost upon the pair now as he saw her fight again, swinging wildly at her assailant. Unprepared, he flew backward, and Mia pinned him to the pavement briefly before the man’s adrenaline kicked in, sending her off of him again. He had the upper hand again as he held her hands above her head with one of his, using his legs to pin hers.

“Now what are you gonna try?” he teased her. She swallowed, glaring at the man.

“I’m still not afraid of you, you chicken shit cock sucker.” The gun found its way under her chin again as Nick cleared his throat.

“Drop your weapon,” he growled at the man menacingly. The guy chuckled.

“Oh, so her knight in shining armor has arrived?” he grunted.

“I don’t need him,” she said.

“Right. Who’s got the upper hand now?”

“Drop your weapon!” Nick repeated. The man stood up, whipping Mia in front of him as a shield from Nick’s gun.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Pig?” he taunted, holding Mia. She gave Nick a calm, sadistic smile as she lifted her leg and kicked the guy in the nuts. The attacker dropped to the ground, groaning in pain as he shot Mia in the ankle, making her crash to the pavement. Nick shot the man’s firing hand, causing him to relinquish the weapon. Nick ran over, pinning the man on the ground quickly. Mia arched her eyebrows as backup arrived on the scene and took the guy from Nick.

“You okay?” Nick asked her, walking over and crouching down next to her where she had fallen.

“You only shot his hand?” she retorted. He shook his head.

“I wouldn’t have had to shoot him at all if you weren’t content on baiting him.”

“Oh, come on. You’re the only other person out here. You would’ve had to do something.”

“Backup was on its way.” He helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as they hobbled toward the hospital.

“So what, I was supposed to just let him control me?”

“You’ve gotta be calm and rational in these situations, Mia. Think things through.”

“He wouldn’t have killed me.”

“You don’t know that. Dammit, Mia, do you realize what you just did? You almost got yourself killed tonight because you had to fight with him!”

“He came after me first! I’m sorry I wasn’t about to just give in to him!”

“You don’t understand. We just lost a CSI four weeks ago! Do you know what losing another would do to us right now? Don’t you get it?”

“How the hell am I the bad guy in this, Stokes? Rationalize that for me.” They reached the hospital doors, and Mia grunted as a medical team brought her a wheelchair. Nick walked with her.

“Usted no tuvo que luchar con él,” he told her, his voice laced with anger. The hospital staff listened quietly, understanding less than half of what he was saying.. “Usted no tuvo que provocarlo y lo hace peor.”

“Sandeces,” she replied. “El habría tratado de matarme de cualquier manera.”

“Usted no sabe eso.”

“Nick, por favor. El tipo fue meado y desesperado pararme de procesamiento de a su novia. El habría tratado de matarle también si usted había sido el un entrar.”

“El tipo fue espantado, yo le daré ese tanto. Pero usted es el que hizo todo peor!” Mia looked at him quizzically.

“¿En vez de gritar en mí, no debe estar usted agradecido que estoy bien?” Nick sighed softly, a frown working its way onto his face.

“Usted tiene razón,” he said softly. “Lo siento. Es apenas que yo no quiero mirar mis amigos bajan gunned delante de mí, especialmente cuando ellos incitan al pistolero.”

“¿Usted piensa que esto es mi defecto?” she asked, looking at him.

“No, nada en absoluto. Sé que es su. Acabo de pensar que usted no necesitó añadir a la situación aquí. Nosotros le podríamos haber perdido esta noche, y eso me espantó, así que sé que he estado diciendo y continuaré probablemente decir muchas cosas que yo luego no significaré.”

“¿Eso es su vida aunque... no es?” He chuckled softly, a smile working onto his face. She smiled softly.

“Cállese.” She smiled wider. “Si eso es mi vida, entonces suyo es todo acerca de problemas de causa, meando personas lejos, y tratando de conseguirlo mató.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking.

“Sí, eso acerca de las sumas arriba.” Nick shook his head.

“¿Por qué? ¿Por qué hace usted esto?” She shrugged.

“Tantas razones.” He arched his eyebrows, and she shook her head. “¿La mirada, yo soy bien, así que por qué no ase usted mi juego para mí y para la hoja con las enfermeras o con algo? Vuelva al laboratorio y consiga las muestras analizadas. Procesaré a la víctima tan pronto como yo soy hecho aquí.”

"No, llamaré Catherine de procesar a la chica. Grissom le hará va a casa cuando él averigua lo que sucedió. ¿Usted sabe eso, el derecho?” She shrugged.

“Quizá no, pero traer Catherine en quizás sea una idea buena, desde que la evidencia es la clase de tiempo sensible. Hable con Brass también. El debe saber lo que sucedió.” Nick nodded.

“Hecho. ¿Ah, y Mia?”

“¿Sí?”

“Estoy contento que usted es bien. ¿Pero si usted incita jamás a un hombre armado como eso otra vez, yo gravemente le doleré. ¿Entendió?” She chuckled bitterly.

“Whatever, Fatass.” Nick pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“Glad to have you back. Take care.” She nodded as he walked out of the room.

*~*~*~*

Translations:

“You didn’t have to fight with him. You didn’t have to provoke him and make it worse.”

“Bullshit. He would’ve tried to kill me anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Nick, please. The man was scared and desperate to stop me from processing his girlfriend. He would’ve tried to kill you too if you were the one going in.”

“The man was scared, I’ll give you that. But you’re the one that made it worse.”

“Instead of yelling at me, shouldn’t you be happy I’m alright?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t like to watch my friends get gunned down in front of me, especially when they’re taunting the gunman.”

“You think this is my fault?”

“No, not at all. I know it’s his. I just think that you didn’t need to add to the situation here. We could’ve lost you tonight, and that scared me, so I know that I’ve been saying and will continue to say things that I later won’t mean.”

“That’s your life… isn’t it?”

“Shut up. If that’s my life, then yours is all about causing problems, pissing people off, and trying to get yourself killed.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Why? Why do you do this?”

“Many reasons. Look, I’m alright, so why don’t you grab my kit for me and leave it with the nurses or something? Go back to the lab and get the samples analyzed. I’ll process the victim as soon as I’m done here.”

“No, I’m going to call Catherine to process the girl. Grissom is going to make you go home when he finds out what happened. You know that, right?”

“Maybe not, but bringing in Catherine might be a good idea, since the evidence is time sensitive. Talk with Brass, too. He should know what happened.”

“Done. Oh, and Mia?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re alright. But if you ever taunt an armed man like that again, I will seriously hurt you. Understood?”
 
Again, censored from the ff.net version... I have a swearing problem with my characters... lol. Hope you guys enjoy it. :)

*~*~*~*

Chapter 4: Inevitable Discussions


“Nick!” Grissom called to him as he walked out of Trace. Nick stopped, waiting for his boss to catch up to him.

“What’s up, Griss?” he asked.

“How’s Mia?”

“She’s fine. Should be here soon.”

“Judy’ll send her to my office when she gets here. Come with me.” Nick nodded, following him into his office. “Sit down, please.” Nick closed the door before taking a seat across the desk from Grissom. “What happened, Nicky?”

“I was droppin’ her off to process our victim when someone was callin’ out to her. I stuck around ‘cuz I didn’t know who he was or anythin’, and I wanted to make sure she’d be okay. He started comin’ after her, so I radioed for backup before I…” His voice trailed off, and Grissom arched his eyebrows.

“You what?”

“Left the evidence in the car to help her.” He looked down, thinking about all the possible ways Grissom could react to that. The older man watched Nick in silence.

“Go on,” he said after a moment. Nick sighed.

“So they were fightin’, and the guy had a gun, so I told him to drop it. He instead tried to use Mia as a shield, who then kicked him in the groin. He dropped and shot her in the ankle, so I shot his hand to get him to drop the gun. Backup arrived, so I got Mia into the hospital.” Grissom nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left the evidence.”

“Mia needed you. You did fine, Nick.”

“Will the defense and the courts see it that way?” Grissom shrugged.

“We’ll know soon.”

“So I might’ve just botched the case.”

“You still have the evidence from the victim from Catherine.” Nick nodded. “Don’t worry.”

“At least the car didn’t get stolen,” Nick deadpanned. Grissom smiled.

“Yeah, be glad for that.” Nick half-smiled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You made sure she was okay, and that’s what’s important.”

“I yelled at her,” he said softly. Grissom watched him, not entirely surprised.

“When?” the supervisor asked. “At the scene?”

“No, in the parking lot… and then in the hospital.” Grissom sighed softly.

“What do you mean, you yelled at her?”

“Lectured her… in two languages…”

“Why?” Nick shrugged.

“I don’t know. I freaked out when I saw the guy attacking her, and you know Mia, you know she never shuts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was taunting the guy, saying he had no guts, wouldn’t shoot her, stuff like that. And even if she is right on that, she doesn’t need to tell him that. We just lost Sara four weeks ago, and we came this close to losing Mia, too.” Nick held his forefinger a millimeter above his thumb, emphasizing his point. “We can’t lose another team member.” Grissom nodded sadly as a soft knock resounded from his door. He looked at Nick, who nodded.

“Come in,” he said to the door. Mia finagled her way in using the crutches the doctor gave her.

“Judy said you wanted to see me when I got back,” she said curtly. Nick gave Grissom a look that said ‘no, she hasn’t changed,’ and Grissom nodded.

“Yes, please Mia, have a seat.” She sat in the chair next to Nick, who shifted in his chair.

“Should I leave?” he asked. Grissom shook his head.

“No,” he told Nick. “I just need to get her statement on what happened too. Unless she wants you to leave, you’re welcome to stay."

“His Royal Roundness doesn’t need to leave,” she said. Nick rolled his eyes.

“Why do you keep calling me things like that?” She grinned.

“Yo sólo escojo los yo quiero.” Nick shook his head.

“Usted no me quiere.” She grinned evilly.

“Usted no sabe eso.”

“Oh, viene en. Usted no quiere nadie. Usted odia el mundo entero.” Her mouth twisted into an aggravated frown.

“Nick, yo no odio el mundo entero. Tengo a amigos, las personas que quiero. He tenido a novios en el pasado. Así que no me dice odio el mundo entero. Además, yo le dije antes, tengo mis razones.”

“Eso sacude.” She shook her head as Grissom watched the two of them curiously. Nick sighed softly. “Lo siento. Esto vuelve a lo que decía más temprano acerca de no significar lo que digo.” She shook her head again.

“It’s cool.” Nick nodded, and Grissom watched them a moment longer.

“You two done fighting in Spanish?” he asked. Both of them nodded. “Good. Mia, what happened at the hospital?”

“I got out of the car, and some guy was calling for me and telling me he needed help,” she said. “His shirt was covered in blood, so I asked him what was wrong, and he pulled a gun on me and told me that our victim tripped and that there was no need to process her. He hit me a few times, I defended myself, he shot my ankle and Nick shot his hand.”

“Is that it?”

“Well, I may have taunted him a bit, but I knew he wouldn’t shoot me. If he didn’t shoot his girlfriend whose ass he was kicking, there was no way he was gonna kill me. He wanted to control me, except I’m not afraid of a gun.”

“Why not?” She shrugged carelessly.

“Part of the job, getting guns shoved in our faces. If we’re gonna freak out every time we get shot at or have a gun drawn on us, what the hell kind of cops are we?”

“We’re criminalists. We’re there for the evidence.”

“We’re told to carry guns for a reason.” Grissom looked over at Nick, who was staring at the floor with an intense curiosity.

“Mia…”

“Yeah, I know. We shouldn’t bait, snap at, or shoot suspects. We’re supposed to behave professionally and impartially. But, I’m sorry, if my life is on the line like that, I’m going to do whatever I want because in the end, I’m the one that ends up screwed.”

“What about your friends and colleagues?” Nick piped in softly. Mia looked over at him. “Look, as much as you want to think your actions only affect you, you’re wrong. We’re the ones that are gonna be left behind when all’s said and done.”

“You guys all hate me anyway,” she said bitterly. He sighed.

“You’re a hard person to get along with, and we’re not used to that. We don’t hate you.” Grissom looked at Nick critically, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Mia.

“Two weeks ago, you were in here complaining about me and how much you hate me. How much you never wanted to work with me again. How much I aggravated you. I haven’t done anything in the span of two weeks to make you change your mind. So where do you come off saying that you guys don’t hate me? I think Sanders is the only one that remotely tolerates me, and that’s because ‘he hasn’t worked with me.’”

“How’d you know what I was saying two weeks ago?”

“You weren’t exactly talking quietly there, Nick. Plus, Wendy likes me, is one of my best friends, and she heard every word, so she told me.” Nick sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“And rather than being happy I was okay earlier, you yelled at me and blamed me for getting shot. And while I’ll give you that maybe I did contribute a little bit, you and I both know that still wouldn’t have changed the outcome. You all hate me, and that’s okay, because I’m not fond of you guys either. You don’t want me here because that means that Sara’s death is real. I get that. I get that it also never occurred to you guys that I don’t want to be here either.” She stood up with her crutches. “If you need me, I’ll be in DNA with the one person in this lab that actually enjoys my presence.”

“We’re not done,” Grissom said. Mia sat down, and Nick stood up. “You’re not done here either, Nick.” He sighed, sitting back down. “We can’t have you two keep fighting like this. We need a resolution.” Nick nodded, and Mia failed to react. “You’re right, Mia. This situation isn’t ideal, but there’s nothing else we can do than move through it. Which means we all have to stick it out.” She nodded slowly. “As far as the team goes, we’ll find a way to work this out so everyone’s happy, but two weeks isn’t enough time to blend in. It’s not that we don’t welcome you, it’s just that the situation’s awkward.”

“You know what?” Mia said. “That’s the only situation I’ve ever been thrust in here in Vegas. I was only brought into this lab because Keppler was killed, so Days was down a man again. This is my life here, blending in when people get killed.”

“You haven’t blended in well with us,” Nick said quietly.

“You guys aren’t much of a team anymore anyway. You guys have pretty much paired off here- Grissom and Catherine, Nick and Warrick. Poor Greg’s left alone in a lab where even the techs have a best friend to turn to at the moment. And, I’m sorry, you expect me to blend into the team and family? What team and family? I bet you all blame me for tearing you guys apart, even though it was like that when I got here. The team that normally soldiers through triumphs and tragedies together as a family has fallen apart, and you’re worried about me? My behavior?”

“You’re a part of the team. You’re here, you work with us, you help us, and you benefit and supplement us. That’s a team, and you’ve become an asset to it, whether or not you realize it. We’re worried about your suicidal tendencies.” She sighed.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Not try to kill yourself. Oh, and be a little more human and a lot less two-faced.”

“I am human, and I’m not two-faced with people that truly matter, like my colleagues and friends. You guys know who and what I am. It’s not the best thing for people who are having the worst day of their lives.”

“How about your colleagues who’re going through hell?” She sighed.

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry, alright? I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted you guys to know the real me, not the fake one.”

“What’s real and what’s fake, Mia?” Grissom asked softly. “Do you even know anymore?”

“What?” she asked him, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“Is what we’re seeing the real you, or the fake one?”

“Real.”

“Dudo eso,” Nick said softly.

“¿Qué?”

“Yo no pienso que esto es el verdadero usted. Pienso el verdadero usted es lo que vemos en las escenas, cuando usted habla a las víctimas. Usted tiene miedo para dejar entrar personas, atemorizado confiar, así que usted esconde detrás de su actitud mala. Las personas no querrán saberle sinceramente si ellos piensan que usted es una ramera.

“Y si ellos no le saben, entonces usted no cuida, y ellos no le pueden doler,” Nick continued. “Usted no puede conseguir cerca a ellos, así que cuando usted los pierde, no son nada. Usted duele como son. Usted me dijo que hace dos semanas. Y juzgando del hecho que esa deuda morosa dijo que usted estuvo como esto también, yo diría que algo sucedió a usted hace mucho tiempo que realmente le dolió. Usted es espantado. Usted piensa que si usted es agradable, las personas le dolerán y le utiliza, y usted no quiere que eso suceda, así que usted lo separa con un muro detrás de su comportamiento. ¿Tengo razón yo?” She sighed, nodding. Nick sighed softly. “Why?”

“It’s none of your business,” she said.

“It is if I can help.”

“It’s too late, Nick. You can’t help me now.” He shook his head.

“It’s never too late.”

“With me, it is.” Nick sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting anywhere. Grissom looked between his two CSIs, wondering half of what they just said. “I’ll try to be better and less… suicidal… okay? Can I go now?” Grissom nodded, and she left his office. He looked at Nick.

“What did you say to her?” he asked.

“I just told her what I thought about her,” Nick replied. “What I figured out and stuff.”

“And she agreed with your assessment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…?”

“Well…”

*~*~*~*

Brass sifted through the paperwork on his desk, signing in the appropriate places and putting anything that required a little more work off in the corner. Greg knocked softly on the door, causing the detective to look up. “You got a minute?” he asked softly.


“Sure, kid,” Brass replied, pushing his paperwork to the side. It had waited this long. It could wait a little longer. Greg, on the other hand, didn’t look like he could. “What brings you over this way?”

“I just wanted to talk to someone. I mean, Grissom has Catherine, Nick has Warrick, Henry and Wendy are close in proximity, so are Mandy and Archie, and Bobby Dawson and Hodges. I feel like I’m the odd man out on the Ark.” Brass curled his eyebrows toward his nose.

“Ark?”

“You know, Noah’s Ark. Everyone’s paired off, and the only one left is me. And you and Sofia are here, you know? So even you guys are kinda paired up, and I’m still alone.”

“Greg, you know that anyone would be happy to talk to you.” He sighed.

“I don’t know if I want them knowing.”

“Anything you say here, stays here.” Greg nodded. “What’s on your mind?”

“A lot. I don’t know how they do it… I guess because they all have each other… but I’m not really sleeping, not really eating… I mean, for a while I know we all were, but it’s almost like the four of them are moving on with their lives, and I’m still stuck back.” Brass nodded. “I managed to sleep last night, and I had a dream about her. Well, all of us, really. I was still a tech, and we were goofing off and it felt so real… except she was sitting there, in the corner, just watching. She never said a word, never moved. Just watched. And no one else seemed to notice her, but she sat in the corner. And… I don’t know, I knew she was there, but I didn’t. And I don’t know what that means, if it even means anything.” Brass shrugged.

“I’m not a psychiatrist or anything. I couldn’t tell you.” Greg shook his head.

“I didn’t expect you to have the answer.” Greg fell silent for a moment, and Brass watched as the young man seemed to grow more troubled. He stood up from his chair, walking around his desk and taking the seat next to Greg.

“You can tell me anything, Greg.” Greg looked up at the older man, sighing.

“The only thing keeping me going right now is the knowledge that if I were to do anything, you guys would be the ones hurt worst, and that would make me feel worse.”

“What kind of ‘anything’ are you talking about, Greg?” he asked quietly, putting his hand on the young CSI's shoulder.

“Anything destructive. Anything that my twisted mind thinks would make me feel better. How the hell do you guys all do this? Be sane amidst all of this?”

“Who said we’re sane?” Brass sighed. “We’re all doing a healthy dose of acting, Greg, because we’re all under the same microscope you feel like you’re under. If the under sheriff had his way, you guys would be functioning on all levels right now. So you fake it until it becomes true. There’s nothing else you can do.”

“I’m having trouble with that.” Brass shrugged. “I mean, the faking it is okay, but after I’m away from it all… I don’t know what to do.”

“Get a punching bag, something constructive for when you’re angry. When you’re upset, call someone or write a journal if you don’t feel like calling someone. It’ll get easier as time goes on.”

“I miss her so much.”

“We all do,” Brass said sadly.

“There’s something missing without her.”

“Yeah.” Greg was quiet for a moment before chuckling somewhat.

“Mia’s kind of like her.” Brass looked at Greg like he had officially lost his mind with that statement. “B*lls to the wall, take no sh*t from anyone. Sara was a helluva lot nicer, and funnier, but Mia’s like Sara when Sara first got here.” Brass chuckled softly, nodding.

“Yeah, she kinda is, only without all the good parts.” Greg smiled softly. “Even Sara said that. She told me once that Ecklie made her sit down with the new girl on Days, and that they actually had a lot in common and she reminded Sara of herself.” Greg chuckled somewhat again.

“Yeah, I see it.” Brass smiled, and the pair fell silent for a moment. “I… We failed her, Brass,” he said quietly. “And that kills me.”

“We tried our best,” Brass said. “There wasn’t much more we could do.”

“I hate Natalie so much.”

“Yeah.”

“We found Nick when he was buried underground. His kidnapper blew himself up, and we still found him in time. How could we have failed Sara like that?”

“We had more to go on with Nick.” Greg shook his head.

“It doesn’t make sense. We’re the number 2 crime lab in the country, and we failed to save one of our own. How good are we if we can’t even find one of our own before she died under a car in the desert?!” Greg stood up, anger growing within him as he paced Brass’s office. The older captain just watched him. “We couldn’t even fucking save our team member!” He punched the wall, and Brass jumped up.

“Easy there, Greg. Don’t need to break your hand or my wall.”

“Sorry,” Greg said quietly. He sighed softly as Brass put a gentle, fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I know I’m not as bad as Mia, but I feel so… out of control. So sick. I don’t know what to do, where to go with things. I feel lost, confused. Our team’s falling apart, and I know that Nick and I used to be the ones who could hold us together, but… we can’t. What’s happening to us?” Brass sighed.

“Unfortunately, sometimes this happens,” Brass told him quietly. “In times where friends should be uniting together to make it through, it tears them apart. It’s okay, it’s normal, and once things settle down, it’ll be back. It takes more than four weeks for that to happen, though.”

“We used to get each other through the bad.”

“It’s affecting all of us. It’s okay, Greg. It’ll all be okay. It takes time.” Greg sighed, shaking his head. Brass pulled him into a fatherly hug. “It’ll be okay one day.”

“Do you even believe that, or are you just saying what you think’ll make me feel better?” Greg asked as he returned the hug. Brass chuckled softly.

“A bit of both.” They let go, and Greg moved toward the door. Brass moved back behind his desk. “You’re always welcome to drop by here if you ever need to chat.”

“Thanks, Brass.”

“No problem, kid.”

“I gotta go find Warrick. He’s meeting me here so we can interview our guy.” Brass nodded.

“Good luck and remember, door’s always open and phone’s always on.” Greg nodded, walking out of the office. Brass sighed, turning back to his paperwork as he hoped that the kid wasn’t worse off than he had told him.


*~*~*~*

Translations:
“I only pick on the ones I like.”

“You don’t like me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t like anybody. You hate the entire world.”

“I do not hate the entire world. I have friends, people I like. I’ve had boyfriends in the past. So don’t tell me I hate the entire world. Besides, I told you before, I have my reasons.”

“That’s shocking. ... I’m sorry. This goes back to what I was saying earlier about not meaning what I say.”
--------
“I doubt that.”

“What?”

“I don’t think this is the real you. I think the real you is what we see at the scenes, when you’re talking to the victims. You’re afraid to let people in, afraid to trust, so you hide behind your bad attitude. People won’t want to truly know you if they think you’re a b*tch.

“And if they don’t know you, then you don’t care, and they can’t hurt you. You can’t get close to them, so when you lose them, it’s nothing. You’re hurting like we are. You told me that two weeks ago. And judging from the fact that day shift said you were like this too, I’d say that something happened to you a long time ago that really hurt you. You’re scared. You think that if you’re nice, people will hurt you and use you, and you don’t want that to happen, so you wall yourself off behind your demeanor. Am I right?”
 
I hope you guys are still enjoying the story... I decided to put a song-fic in the middle of a story (I don't know why), but it fits well with the plot. Again, censored from the ff.net version, and have I mentioned yet that I only own Mia and don't own CSI? lol Enjoy! :D

*~*~*~*

Chapter 5: Un-Break my Heart


Grissom walked outside after shift, feeling the drain of the night. It had been a rough one, and nights like this made the loss of Sara feel even worse. He stretched his sore muscles, walking around the parking lot as the rain poured down around him.

Don’t leave me in all this pain
Don’t leave me out in the rain
Come back and bring back my smile
Come and take these tears away

Nights like these reminded him of that night in the desert. The night they were too late. They lost Sara because they couldn’t find her in time. And now, he and the rest of his team were walking around in a world of hurt. He sat down on the bench outside the lab, allowing the rain to drench him completely as he sat there. He missed her every second of every day. He didn’t know how they were all getting through this.

Mia was right. The team had fallen apart before she got there, and none of them seemed to know how to put things back together. Mia, though, wasn’t helping them much. If anything, she was uniting them against her. Grissom sighed. Tears weren’t coming anymore. It was almost like he was all cried out. Loneliness surrounded him as he sat on the bench, staring out at the traffic beyond the parking lot. He wished that this was a nightmare he’d wake up from, but, as he watched the traffic blur by, he knew it wasn’t.

I need your arms to hold me now
The nights are so unkind
Bring back those nights when I held you beside me

Mia tousled her hair, taking a sip from her glass of wine as she sat on her couch. Her ringing doorbell annoyed her, causing her to get up quickly. She limped over, favoring her good ankle and ignoring the crutches she left in the kitchen as she opened the door to a rain-drenched Hodges. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, stepping aside to let him come in and dry off.

“We need to talk,” he replied, looking around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. You’re dripping.” She limped into the kitchen and he walked after her. “Stay here.” She put down the glass, grabbing her crutches and hobbling down the hall. Hodges stayed, as instructed, until Mia came back with a towel and some clothes. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” She thrust them at him, and he nodded, walking out. She ditched the crutches, pouring another glass of wine before bringing them into the living room. Hodges came back out, walking into the living room with his wet clothes.

“Where should I put…?”

“Kitchen.” He nodded, dropping them on the floor in the kitchen before walking into the living room. She offered him the glass of wine.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.” He sat in a chair near her, sipping the wine. “What the hell are you doing here, Hodges?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” He swirled his wine, staring at it. “Bordeaux?”

“Yes. What the hell could you want to talk about?”

“Us. L.A.”

“Look, as far as I’m concerned, what happened between us there stays there. It’s not like I’ve been treating you differently than anyone else. Come on.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what the hell did you mean?”

“I want to go back.” Mia angrily shook her head in disbelief.

Un-break my heart
Say you’ll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many nights
Un-break my heart
My heart

Now home, showered, and dried, Grissom sat on his couch, petting Bruno. He sighed, looking at the picture of the two of them he kept on the coffee table. His heart and his body yearned for her presence around him, but his head told him that she wasn’t coming back. Sighing again, he picked up the copy of Applied Psychology in Criminal Justice sitting on the coffee table, opening to a page and reading the articles to distract himself from the pain of missing her.

Take back that sad word good-bye
Bring back the joy to my life
Don’t leave me hear with these tears
Come and kiss the pain away

Greg and Brass were sitting in Brass’s office, drinking from the bottle in his drawer as they reminisced about Sara. Five weeks had passed, three weeks since they started back at work. The pair sipped the scotch, silence falling between them for a moment as each man thought about what to say. Both realized at the moment that words were inadequate, and couldn’t describe their emotions fully. As they sipped the scotch again, they remembered their fallen comrade.

I can’t forget the day you left
Time is so unkind
And life is so cruel without you here beside me

Grissom sighed, putting down the magazine and thinking about the time he told Sara about a similar magazine where he’d read an article about the mile-high club. He’d made up the magazine, something she had called him on, but that didn’t matter. He smiled to himself slightly, remembering the awkwardness of the moment and the words exchanged. He kept smiling, thinking about her love and her life. He’d always love her, no matter what.

Un-break my heart
Say you’ll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many nights
Un-break my heart
My heart

Nick flipped through the channels on the TV as Warrick sat beside him. Tina put two mugs of coffee in front of them, and both gentlemen offered their thanks. She kissed the top of Warrick’s head gently before messing up Nick’s hair and walking out of the room. Nick followed her with his eyes before looking over at Warrick. “She’s a good one,” he told his friend softly.

“Yeah,” Warrick replied. “Comforting’s her specialty.” Nick nodded, and the two of them went back to trying to find something to watch.

Don’t leave me in all this pain
Don’t leave me out in the rain
Bring back the nights when I held you beside me

“You don’t get it, do you?” Mia asked him, shaking her head. “David, we can’t go back.”

”Why not?” Hodges asked. “Why can’t we be together?”

“Because way too much has happened between us.”

‘That’s bull, Cat, and you know it.” She cringed at his use of her nickname. “Look, I’ve been good about calling you Mia at work and pretending that we’ve just met, but don’t you think it’s time we stop pretending?”

“Do you want them knowing what happened in LA?” Hodges sighed.

“You can’t tell me it was all bad.” Mia shrugged.

“I could, but you’d never listen to me anyway. And beside that, I never ever even remotely want to go back there either. You’re lucky I don’t outright hate your guts for what you did.”

“I guess I deserve that.”

“You’re damn right you deserve that! You deserve worse!” She sighed, swallowing down the last of her wine. “The best you can hope for is civility, but if you come to my house like this again, you won’t even get that.”

“You never let me apologize.”

“I wouldn’t accept it anyway. There’s no excuse, David.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Let’s not get into this. I’d like you to leave.” Hodges shook his head.

“Not until we talk about what went wrong.”

“No. David, this isn’t your house. You don’t get to make the rules.”

“This is my city. You came here, not the other way around.”

“You came to my house. You sought me out. Now I’m turning you away. Go home, David.”

“Cat, come on.”

“Stop calling me that! You’re the reason I hate when people call me that. Go the hell away.”

“I’ll tell everyone what happened out there.”

“Soil your already shitty reputation. Be my guest. Because you can’t make me look bad here.”

“You dumped me.”

“I had a damn good reason, and you know it! You screwed up, David! And you have to live with that. Get the hell out of my house.” Hodges stood up.

“Maybe you should come to the terms with the fact that maybe you had it coming,” he told her in a harsh, quiet tone as he put the glass down and walked out of the house. Mia glared after him, standing and hobbling into the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of wine, drinking straight from it in large gulps. That was the affect David Hodges had on her.

Un-break my heart
Say you’ll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many, many nights
Un-break my
Un-break my heart, oh baby
Come back and say you love me
Un-break my heart
Sweet darlin’
Without you I just can’t go on
Can’t go on…
 
Thanks for your continued interest and patience... sorry updates have been slow... transitioning from my school-time job to my summer job. Welcome to the journey, GregNickRyanFan! Happy to have you aboard. :)

Anyway, here's the next installment. There's some Italian, but all that's said is "Thank you," "You're welcome," and "Do you speak Italian?" Again, this is a slightly watered down version, and I still only own Mia. The title comes from "Fight Night", as does Nick's explanation. Hope you enjoy the next chapter. :)

*~*~*~*

Chapter 6: ‘Night of the Pifflings’

Greg sat in the break room before shift, silently hating the pounding in his head. Mia walked into the room, grabbing the pot and pouring herself a cup of coffee. Greg looked at the disturber of his calm and frowned at her appearance. “You okay?” he asked her softly, causing her to turn. The bags under her eyes were more evident, along with her red, runny nose.

“Fine,” she replied, voice icy and clear of any congestion.

“What happened?”

“What makes you think something happened?” She fished through her pocket, producing a packet of Advil and tossing them to Greg. “Here. Something tells me you could use these more than me.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He stood up, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a can of soda out of it. He swallowed down the pills with a sigh.

“Hangover?”

“No. Just a headache.”

“I heard about your night with Brass.”

“So? It’s not like we got drunk or anything.”

“But you did after.”

“No I didn’t. I swear to you, I’m not hung-over. I just suffer from migraines. They’ve happened ever since…”

“You got your ass kicked last year?” Greg nodded, confused.

“Yeah. How’d you know about that?”

“I thought we went over this the first night I was here. I know everything about you guys.”

“Really? Well, then what do I prefer- boxers or briefs?” She sighed, annoyed.

“Depends on what you’re wearing and where you’re going in it. If you’re wearing a suit to court or a funeral, briefs. Otherwise, boxers. Jeans are boxers too, unless they’re tight.”

“Okay, now that’s creepy.” She smiled.

“I’m good.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, what about you? C’mon, give me something.”

“Okay. I came here from L.A.”

“I already knew that. How old are you?”

“26.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“L.A. Enough questions.” Greg groaned.

“Spoil sport.”

“Grazie.”

“Prego.” She arched her eyebrows.

“Parli l’italiano?”

“Huh?” She shook her head.

“Never mind.” He shrugged, sitting at the table. She sat beside him quietly. “How are you doing?”

“Huh?” he repeated. Not because he hadn’t heard her correctly, but because he was surprised she was even asking.

“You okay? How are you handling things?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I’m doing okay. I don’t know. How about you? I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Who told you?” she asked curtly.

“Brass. He knows all.” She shook her head, chuckling.

“I guess so. I don’t know.” Nick walked in, and Greg watched as Mia straightened up. “What’s up, Tubbaluv?” she asked the newcomer brusquely.

“Shut up,” he replied, groaning. Greg shook his head.

“Bad night for everyone last night?” he asked.

“Looks like it, kid,” she answered as Warrick walked in.

“Coffee ready?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” Greg replied.

“Great.” Warrick poured himself a cup of coffee, sipping it slowly as Catherine strolled in, with Grissom trailing behind her.

“Okay, tonight we’ve got a ‘night of the pifflings’,” Grissom said, looking at Nick.

“Pifflings?” Greg asked.

“Puffin offspring,” Nick explained. “Every year, first time out of the nest, they crash-land on this city in Iceland because they’re attracted to the lights of civilization.”

“Right,” Grissom said. “Nick, you have a DB in Lake Mead. Catherine, DB of your own at the Tangiers. Warrick’s with me on that OIS. Greg and Mia, you have an assault in a parking lot off-Strip. Good luck out there tonight.” They nodded, standing. Greg turned to Mia.

“You drive,” he said. “My head hurts.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Let’s go.” They began to leave when Grissom stopped them.

“One more thing,” he said. “You two are going to be representing us at a conference next month. Mia, you were originally signed up to represent Days, and Greg, you’re signed up to represent us. The conference is in California.”

“Oh, thanks for the advanced warning,” Mia snapped. Grissom shook his head, ignoring her.

“Where in California?” Greg asked.

“Santa Monica,” Grissom replied. Greg nodded.

“Cool. C’mon, Annamolly, let’s go before you talk yourself out of a job.” Greg winked at Grissom as Mia groaned. Greg grabbed her arm playfully, prancing out into the hallway and dragging her along with him. She fought against him, causing Grissom to sigh.

“How long before she kills him?” Warrick asked, amused.

“Hopefully after the conference,” Grissom answered, walking out to the car.

*~*~*~*

“So, can I ask you something?” Greg began as he scoped out the parking lot. Mia shrugged.

“You can ask whatever the fuck you want,” she replied, bending over and picking up a clump of hair. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna answer.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“No. You have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Uh, no. You have a girlfriend?”

“Not in a romantic or sexual sense, but I do have friends that are girls.”

“Right.” Greg picked up a bloody piece of glass, sighing.

“How’s the headache?”

“Getting worse.” Mia looked up at him, seeing the stress in his face.

“Take a deep breath and close your eyes.” Greg glared at her, trying to judge her intentions. “Hey, I’m not gonna do anything bad, so do you want my help or not?” He sighed, following her instructions. “Good boy. Now, envision yourself in a safe, happy place. Nothing bad happens here. Everything is perfect and peaceful. What do you see?”

“A waterfall, with trees around it,” Greg replied.

“No talking,” Mia instructed. “It was the next part, not something you needed to answer.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, what do you see? Someone you really care about, someone you really trust, walking up to you.” She quietly took off her gloves as she spoke. “He or she approaches you and greets you warmly.” She watched as Greg smiled.

He smiled as he envisioned Sara’s image coming toward him, greeting him warmly. “You hug them, and they hug you tightly, telling you everything’s gonna be okay,” Mia continued. “And you smile and agree, and then they walk behind you.” She moved behind him. “And they start to give you a massage.” She started to massage his shoulders, kneading them gently and expertly. “And you feel yourself relax. You feel lighter, less stressed, not a care in the world.” Greg’s smile shifted slightly at hearing the smirk growing in her voice. “And everything is still and calm and perfect. And then…” She shoved Greg gently, causing him to crash out of his fantasy and almost fall over in the parking lot.

“I hate you,” he growled lowly. She smirked.

“Still have a headache?”

“Yes.”

“Is it as bad?” He sighed, thinking.

“Not really.”

“Then I win.” She donned a new pair of gloves.

“Bitch.”

“Eh, I’ve been called worse.” She went back to processing as he watched her quietly. Try as he might, he couldn’t understand her. Figuring her out was like trying to complete a genius level crossword puzzle as an amateur. Once you thought you’d finally found a word that fit, you’d find another that would make that impossible.

As much as she hated to think it, she had come to the conclusion that Greg was something different. Someone she could potentially trust, maybe even love. She hadn’t felt able to trust anyone in years, so the idea that she could scared her. She stood up and turned to Greg, not really looking at him.

“Just one more thing,” he said to her, swabbing a drop of liquid.

“Blood?” she asked, finally looking at him.

“Nah. Semen, I think.”

“Really? On the ground?”

“Some like it hard and dirty. In more ways than one.” She shook her head.

“Not me.” Greg smirked.

“Duly noted.” Mia rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Let’s go, Sanders.” Greg stood up, packing away the swab in his kit and closing it.

“After you, Salvatori.” She tossed her hair aside, her ponytail swinging back over her shoulder. He followed her back to the Denali, climbing in and smiling. “I still hate you,” he told her. She shrugged.

“Whatever,” she replied softly. “I don’t care. I’m not here for everyone to love. The goal of my life isn’t having everyone in the world love me. I’m just trying to get through.”

“But don’t you care about anyone? Anything?”

“Yeah, I do. I have friends who have been my friends for years. I love some people. I just don’t care whether or not people actually like me. I don’t dwell on trying to please people, because you can’t. I take care of myself and stay strong. I do my best to stay sane. I realize that people are stupid and destined to amount to little more than the harm instilled in their souls. Anything up from that is an improvement in the world.”

“Your outlook is so endearing.” She shrugged.

“I don’t ask you to agree with it, or even give a crap. I don’t even care if you understand it. Just understand that’s where I’m coming from.” He was silent for a minute before looking at her.

“How’d you get there?” She shook her head.

“Not answering that one.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Then how come you’re nice to me?” She shrugged.

“I feel sorry for you.”

“Why?”

“Even if I did have an answer for you, I still wouldn’t tell you.” He smiled.

“Tease.”

“So?”

“Just saying.” He smiled wider, and she looked over at him.

“What?”

“You like me.” She arched her eyebrows.

“Where in the hell did you gather that from?”

“You’re nice to me.”

“And that means I like you? Maybe that actually means I hate you, because I do things the other way around. Maybe I actually like Nick, since I’m always such a bitch to him, and I’m being nice to you because I absolutely can’t stand you.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.” She rolled her eyes.

“You would.” He smiled.

“Yep. Santa Monica’s gonna be fun.” She shrugged.

“Maybe, but most likely not.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of it,” he assured her. She shook her head.

“You’re crazy.”

“My dear, you will come to learn that’s just the beginning of my many wonderful attributes.”
 
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