Warrick wasn't sure how long he was sitting in the car before he felt someone pulling him out. He heard a voice saying "Oh, my God! Warrick! It's Grissom, stay with me!"
Warrick opened his eyes and coughed up blood. He could feel Grissom holding him, could see his face just above his own, but it was all fading fast.
He heard footsteps approaching them. They echoed as if he were in a tunnel. He heard a second voice say "I was first on the scene. I heard the shots and took off in pursuit of the suspect." It was McKeen. Warrick tried to curse him, to call him out, but all that came were gargling sounds and more blood.
"Where are the Paramedics?" he heard Grissom scream. "We need them here now!" His voice sounded further away. His sight was fading, but he saw Grissom turn back to him and say "Come on, Warrick. Stay with me."
But he couldn't. He knew that. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew. The Paramedics could arrive right then and it wouldn't change anything. He looked at Grissom, tried to focus one last time, tried to make him understand. And then, slowly, everything went black.
*****
When Warrick opened his eyes, he was still lying in the alley, but he was alone. He slowly sat up and looked around. No Grissom. No McKeen. His car was still there, but that was it. What the hell was going on? "Grissom?" he called, surprised by his own voice. Slowly he felt both sides of his neck and realized that the bullet holes were gone. Was it all a dream? he thought.
He stood and walked toward the end of the ally, back to the street. When he reached it he couldn't see anybody. No cars, no people, nothing. Even at this hour of the night, there was usually some sign of life, even in this part of town. This is weird, he thought as he turned back into the alley. He walked to his car and opened the door when he noticed a young woman in the shadows a few feet away.
"Hey," he called to her. "Where is everybody?"
"They're here," she said. "You just can't see them."
There was something familiar about that voice, but he couldn't quite place it. "What does that mean?"
"Exactly what you think it means, Warrick."
Warrick stopped, more than a little rattled. He stared at the figure in the shadows, trying to place the voice. Then, as if she could read his mind, she said, "You don't recognize me, do you?"
"Well," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady, "if you stepped into the light and let me get a better look at you, maybe we can fix that."
After a brief pause, she slowly walked toward him until he could see her face. He just stared, his mouth hanging open. It's impossible, he thought. And yet there she was, standing right in front of him, wearing the same clothes she had worn the last time he saw her.
"Now I know I'm dreaming," he said to no one in particular.
"What makes you say that?" she asked, walking towards him.
"Well, for starters, you're dead."
"True," she said as she stopped and leaned against the hood of his car. "But why should a dream be the only explanation?"
"How would you explain it then?" he asked.
"Maybe you're dead, too," she said with a shrug.
Warrick regarded her suspiciously. "I guess that's one possible explanation. Another is that I died in one dream and woke up in this one."
The young woman just nodded and looked thoughtful, as if toying with the idea. After a moment of silence she spoke again. "Well, come on," she said. "It's time to go."
"Go?" Warrick asked, caught off guard. "Go where?"
"To heaven, of course."
"Heaven?"
"Heaven. You know, the Great Beyond, the Other Side, that big CSI lab in the sky, whatever you prefer to call it. It's time to go, Warrick. Everyone's waiting for you." Without another word she walked past him toward the end of the alley, where Warrick saw a large white limousine waiting.
"Wait," he said, hurrying after her. "So I'm really dead?"
"As a doornail," she said without stopping.
"So that makes you some kind of angel of death or something?"
"Or something." She reached the limo and opened the back door. Warrick stopped. He wasn't sure what was going on but he knew he didn't want to go anywhere with her until he had some answers. She seemed to sense this, and she turned and looked at him with a sad face.
"You want proof that you're really dead." It wasn't a question, just a simple statement. Warrick nodded anyway.
She sighed and reached into the limo and pulled out some sort of remote control. She pushed a button on it and the world exploded around Warrick. There were people, flashing lights, and a lot of commotion. He looked around and saw Catherine hurrying towards the alley. He called to her but she didn't respond. She seemed preoccupied with something. He hurried after her as she made her way down the alley towards his car, where the majority of people seemed to be standing.
On the way they passed Nick who was sitting by himself looking shocked. He looked up at them and shook his head slowly. Catherine doubled her pace and Warrick hurried to keep up.
Up ahead he saw Grissom, sitting on the ground, his shirt and face covered in blood. Like Nick he seemed to be detached. Warrick was concerned. He had never seen Grissom like this. He looked at Catherine and noticed that she was staring at something on the ground and she was crying. He followed her gaze and was just in time to see David pull a sheet over his lifeless body.
He couldn't believe it. He was dead. Just like that. All those cases he worked never prepared him for this like he thought they had. He couldn't believe he was just…dead. There was so much he hadn't done in his life.
As Warrick stared at the sheet, his eyes began to fill with tears. Everything became blurry. He closed his eyes and blinked the tears away. When he opened them again, the alley was empty except for the young woman who was standing in front of him, looking apologetic.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I hate doing that to people, but the ones that die young almost always insist on it."
Warrick nodded, not wanting to open his mouth for fear he might throw up. After a few minutes of deep breaths, though, he felt safe talking again. "Did you have to go through that when you died?" he asked.
"Yeah, which is part of the reason I hate doing it to people. It really sucks."
Warrick nodded in agreement. Then he walked to his car and grabbed his jacket. "Well," he said, shutting the car door. "I guess we'd better get going to…wherever."
The young woman smiled. "I was thinking the same thing." She started to walk past him but he stopped her.
"Holly," he began, "I don't know what it's worth after eight years, but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone that day."
Holly Gribbs smiled at him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Warrick. I forgave you a long time ago."
He smiled. "I guess being dead puts a new perspective on things."
"Yeah," Holly said. "It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to spend all eternity hating the people and circumstances that put you there. Besides, my death wasn't a total loss."
"What do you mean?"
"It got you to quit gambling."
Warrick smiled. "Well," he said, throwing his jacket over his shoulder and offering her his arm. "Shall we?"
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, taking it.
"You know," he said as they reached the limo. "I've always wanted to ride in one of these things. I guess it goes to show you."
"What?" Holly asked as she opened the door.
"Be careful what you wish for." They both laughed and climbed in.
As Holly signaled the driver to take off, Warrick took a long look at the alley and thought about all of the people he was leaving behind: Greg, with his wacky sense of humor; Nick and the friendship they had shared; Jim who had been a good friend, despite their rocky start; Sara who was always caring for everyone else, especially the victims; Catherine and the closeness they had shared over the last few years.
But the person he was going to miss the most was Grissom, both as a teacher and as a friend. Grissom had given him a second chance after his gambling problem had caught up with him and Holly had paid for it. Anyone else would have fired him on the spot, or at the very least suspended him. Grissom had refused to do either, saying "I've already lost one good CSI today. I don't want to lose another." Warrick was sure that the team would see through whatever lie McKeen was telling and would bring him down.
"You okay?" Holly asked, stirring him from his thoughts.
"Yeah," he said still staring out the window. "I'm going to be just fine"