A/N: Okay, so this story came to me while listening to the title song (I'm Already There by Lonestar), but the lyrics at the end are from "Closer to You" by The Wallflowers. I don't own either song, nor do I own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity within the story. This takes place during and around For Warrick, so have those tissues ready. I hope you enjoy the story, and please review.

I'm Already There

You never really were a spiritual person. You always had the gift of the psychics, but you never really went with it. You left that for your grandmother, as she had the better abilities. She always told you that you could be just as good if you honed your skills the way she did.

You chose instead to be a child prodigy in science.

There was something about the hard realities that drew you in, and you always felt that led you to working as an analyst in a crime lab. You liked knowing that a connection you made could put someone in prison or exonerate him or her.

It was in working there that you met him. He was a CSI, and immediately became a big brother type to you. You weren't really close, as you were closer to Nick than to him, but he was still someone you could always trust and rely on. He would get short with you, as many of them did, so you never held that against him.

It wouldn't have been fair if you did.

But he was always there for you, whenever you needed him. He mentored you when you first started to go into the field, which made you more comfortable with him and with the field. In actuality, every CSI stepped up and mentored you. Some more than others, and while he wasn't the one who you worked with most, he was still helpful.

You guys were friends and colleagues, and he was just as worried about you as everyone else when you went through your ordeal with the James family. He came to visit you just like everyone else, and supported you. He's always supported you, and vice versa. You guys were always just there for each other.

That's why that day was so harsh.

You were at the airport, waiting for your flight. You'd already checked in and gone through security. You were twenty minutes from boarding, tops. Had it been twenty minutes later, you would've been unreachable on the plane. Not that you could blame anybody. No one liked being the bearer of bad news.

Your gut had been acting up since you left the diner. That feeling of impending doom just wouldn't go away. And you didn't know how to get rid of it anyway, because it was rare that you got it. You knew something big was going to happen, you just knew it.

But you never expected that you'd get this news.

Your ringing cell phone was louder than the iPod you had heard playing in your ears, which should've been alarming to you, considering your iPod was loud. But you didn't think about that at the time. You were only focused on who was calling- Catherine. Her and the rest of the team knew you were leaving for Los Angeles, and that you had the time off. She wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't important.

The nagging feeling in your stomach grew.

"Sanders," you had answered after you had yanked the iPod out of your ears. You shut the device off as you heard her sigh. You knew she was trying to steel her resolve.

The feeling got worse.

"Greg, it's Catherine," she said softly. The tears had been evident in her voice, and the feeling molded itself into a lump.

If Catherine was crying, it couldn't be good.

"What's wrong?" you asked, but you didn't want to know the answer.

"It's Warrick," she said, and her voice grew high pitched as tears threatened to choke her off once again. You closed your eyes, feeling the lump starting to move up your throat. "He… uh… he's…"

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes, but they refused to fall just yet. She didn't have to finish her statement to you.

You knew what she would say.

"How?" you asked quietly.

"Shot." She began to cry as she passed on the information, and the nagging feeling struck full force. The friend you'd seen day in and day out for the better part of a decade was just taken from you suddenly. You now knew what that feeling was all about.

People in the airport were staring at you, but you didn't care as you pounded your fist gently into the window you had moved to when the phone first started ringing.

"I-I'm coming back," you told her as you steeled yourself quietly. Someone had to pay for what they did to Warrick, and you were going to do what you could to make sure that happened.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"The airport."

"Meet up with us at the lab, hon. Okay?"

"Okay. Cath, I'm…" Your voice trailed off as you realized what you were going to say. And you knew it wouldn't offer much comfort.

"Yeah, me too," she said softly. "I'll see you at the lab."

"See you." You hung up the phone, walking back over to where you had been sitting. You scooped up your carryon bag, beginning to walk out of the boarding areas. You walked back through security, leaving the airport.

You walked into the lab, feeling your world start to crumble. The shock was starting to wear off as you noticed he wasn't there. Everyone in the lab was either shocked, silent, or crying, and you swallowed back your own tears. You couldn't cry while there was still work to be done.

You turned the corner to find Grissom walking toward you. He was covered in blood, and without him saying so, you knew who it belonged to.

Warrick.

You sighed, walking up in front of him. "I, uh," you began. "…Need to do something."

"You could, uh, pick up Warrick's clothes from the coroner," he replied softly. You nodded, walking past him to go to the morgue. Not that you wanted to go down there and see the body of your dead friend. That was a confirmation you weren't quite ready for.

Then again, you weren't ready for this situation in the first place.

You walked in, finding Doc Robbins sitting on the side, his head bowed. Dave was sitting beside him, reaction quiet and saddened, sitting with the bag of clothes. Warrick was in another room than they were, and you were silently thankful you didn't have to see that.

Dave looked up first, seeing you standing there. He sighed quietly, and you walked over to him. No words were spoken as the bag was handed to you, but none needed to be in the first place. You were all feeling this just as deeply as the next person, as you had all worked with him for many, many years. He was well liked, and would be missed.

Doc Robbins grabbed your arm as you had turned to leave, and you turned back to face him. He hugged you gently, and you silently wondered at the time how he knew that was exactly what you needed. You also wondered how much of that was for himself too. You patted Dave on the shoulder, as you weren't as close to him as you were to Doc Robbins, before you turned and left autopsy.

You went upstairs and dropped his clothes off with Hodges, who was out of smart remarks for the day. There was no reason to be snarky. In fact, Hodges did something you didn't expect him to- he reached out and hugged you. "I can't believe this," he said softly after he had let go.

"Me neither," you said softly, and you meant it. You really didn't know who would want to do this to Warrick.

"I'm gonna miss him."

"Me too." You sank onto a stool in the lab as Hodges began to work on the clothes. Something in you made you want to stay in Trace, but you had no idea what it was. Hodges noticed, but didn't say anything like you thought he would. You realized that he wanted the company just as much as you didn't want to leave Trace. You stayed there until Wendy walked in.

She had been crying, you noticed, and you stood up to hug her tightly. She buried her head against your shoulder, and you rubbed her back as you felt and heard her start crying again. You felt Hodges watching you, and you rested your head against Wendy's. No words were spoken, because there wasn't anything to say.

What could you say?

'It's alright' just sounded cheap. 'I'm sorry for your loss' didn't feel right when you were suffering through the same loss. Hugs seemed to be about the only thing that could bring any comfort right now, and even they weren't that comforting.

Wendy let go of you after a while, as Hodges finished his initial processing of Warrick's clothes. He took off his gloves, putting them aside to step forward and hug Wendy. As the two of them were trying to comfort one another, you left Trace to follow Catherine and Nick into Grissom's office.

You weren't at all surprised to see Sara standing in there. In fact, it made you feel a little better that you'd all be together to deal with this. You hugged her tightly after Catherine let go of her, and you sighed softly. You stepped back, and Nick hugged her too. The group of you turned to Grissom and began to figure everything out.

You somehow managed to fall asleep in the days after Warrick's death, and you found that surprising. Sleeping wasn't easy when you were sick to your stomach. You weren't only sick because Warrick was murdered. You were mostly sick because of who murdered him.

The undersherriff.

You always hated him, but you figured that had more to do with the fact that he didn't support you after the whole Demitrius James incident than anything else. Now you hated him even more.

You wished Nick had really shot him.

As you slept, you began to dream, and you found yourself sitting at the interrogation table. And the man sitting across from you was none other than Warrick. Your first instinct was to walk around the table and hug him, but something held you back. Warrick looked at you with a sad frown.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"I'm sorry I'm dead."

How do you respond to that?

"There were a lot of things I never got to tell you, Greg. A lot of things I never got to teach you. And I'm not really going to get the chance. And, so, I'm sorry."

You shook your head, about to protest. He stopped you, though. "No, don't tell me I have nothing to be sorry about," he told you. "I do. And don't say it's not my fault, because it is. As crime scene investigators, we know better than anyone that tomorrow is not guaranteed. We see that every time we go out into the field, every night. People never anticipate the bad things in life.

"I'm not telling you that you should," he continued. You were still confused and silent. "I'm just explaining that I should've told you what I wanted to. I don't want you to go through life not telling people things anymore. I'm making my peace and imparting some knowledge onto you."

"Warrick…" you attempted, but he cut you off again.

"You were always the little brother I never had," he said. "You were annoying at first, but you matured. I just wished it wouldn't have been at the expense of your humor, because there were times and cases where I missed it. you've gotten better lately, and I hope you never lose that.

"Know I'll be watching you and the team from up there," he continued. "I'll be bustin' your ass if I think you've screwed up." You smiled softly, and he broke into one of his trademark grins. "I don't want you to ever lose who you are as you grow up. You're the lifeline of the lab, and you need to know that. Be there for them like you always have been, and everything'll be fine."

"Warrick, I hate this," you said, sounding more like a youth than you intended. "There were a few things I wanted to say, and I guess I'll have to say them now, but I don't like this. I wish things didn't have to be like this. I always looked up to you and Nick, wanted to be like you guys. The two of you taking me under your wings when I moved into the field meant more to me than I told you."

"Everyone took you under their wings, Greg," he mentioned. You shrugged.

"Yeah, but still. I always looked up to you two like my brothers. I want to kill McKeen for killing you, but it's not going to bring you back, and I know that. I'm so pissed at him I'm sick. I wish that you didn't have to die for us to find him out. I'm gonna miss you so much, Warrick." The dream-you began to cry, and Warrick hugged you as he suddenly appeared at your side. "I won't hear you laugh again. I won't hear you cry. I won't get back any of the days we're losing. You won't be there, and I hate that. I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, kid. But I'll be watching you."

You woke up crying after his line, and you allowed yourself to sob for the first time since he died. Nick glanced over at you from his spot on the couch, as you realized you had fallen asleep in a chair at the table. Your head was resting on your folded arms, and you turned your face toward your elbows. You sobbed violently, and felt Nick sit next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. He rubbed you on the back, allowing you to finally break down.

You needed it.

As the tears stopped coming, you felt this strange peace take over you. Not because you had sobbed out your tears, though. This was something different, something that told you things would be okay again and that everything was going to work out. You knew that it had to do with Warrick, and you half-smiled at the thought.

You felt him watching you, and that's what was going to keep you going.

You know, there's nowhere else I've wanted to be
Than be there when you needed me
I'm sorry, too, but don't give up on me
And just remember that when you were asleep,
I got a little bit closer to you