Phoenix

Summary: The man who shattered Sara is dead, but his wife has a secret concerning Greg which Catherine scrambles to keep hidden. Sequel to Collateral Damage.

Author's Note: Posting for this may be slightly slower (every other day). I'm writing two stories at once now (this one and "Salam"-- see profile for details) and so it's going a little slower. Also I've run into a rut-- but don't worry, I think I can dig myself out. I was hesitant in posting this today (I was going to post it Monday) but if I post every other day I think I can work out of my rut fast enough.

Greg kept his arms folded in the passenger seat as Catherine drove back to the lab. He had only spoken to her about the case, and very curtly at that. Beyond that, he refused to say a word to her.

"So when is this silent treatment going to let up?" she finally asked him.

Greg swallowed. "Did you know Vera Volkova's execution date has been postponed?" He waited a moment and Catherine opened her mouth to reply when Greg interrupted her. "Don't answer that, Catherine, because I talked to the DA and he said that you put in a special request to postpone it."

Catherine looked over and frowned at him. She couldn't help but breathe an inward sigh of relief. When Greg had initially brought up the woman who had kidnapped and tortured him three months back, she was worried that he had learned her secret. But apparently he was just upset that she wasn't dead yet.

"Is that all this is about, Greg?" she said with a laugh. "Listen, I have my reasons for that—"

"Do you?" Greg said, sounding irked. "Because I'd really like to hear them."

This time, Catherine sighed outwardly. "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't like it, but I'm working with Vera on a case to catch another female serial killer."

Greg rolled his eyes as he tilted his head back in his seat. "That string of arsenic killings, are you kidding me?"

Catherine was glad she was driving. It meant she didn't have to look Greg in the eye. "No. And… even if I wasn't being serious… Court can't set a date for another six months or so…"

"And why is that?" Greg muttered.

"Vera Volkova is pregnant." Catherine wasn't sure if she should have told him this or not, but he would have found out eventually.

"Oh, so since she's having a psychopath baby, they can't kill her?" Greg spat out bitterly. "Why not? Spawn of that couple is damned to be just as evil as its parents."

Catherine was surprised by his violent reaction. "It's a baby, Greg, not a demon!"

"How can you say that?" Greg asked her, looking at her with disgust. "After what he did to Sara? After what she did to me?" Greg closed his eyes and grit his teeth. "And now, he spawned a hell baby in that bitch."

"I don't think I have ever seen you like this, Greg," Catherine said. "What's happened to you?"

Greg looked away from her and out the window as he rubbed his arms. He seemed to calm down as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Catherine, I just hate them so much… And I've never hated anyone before in my life. I came close with Ryan Woodward, but the Volkovs… Just thinking about them makes my stomach lurch. The sooner she's executed, the sooner I can get her out of my mind. And I don't know how comfortable I am of a little Volkov running around, with their genes…"

Catherine chewed on her lower lip, silently wondering what Greg would say if he found out the truth about Vera Volkova's child. She decided to change the subject. "So do you think Sara and Grissom are still fighting?"

Greg sighed. "Same for her as it is for me. No solo cases, nowhere unusual, mostly B&Es, very few 419s, even less rapes. If I cared enough, I'd be mad at him too."

"But you don't care?" Catherine inquired.

Greg shrugged apathetically. "To be honest… I'm kind of relieved."

Catherine was confused. "Relieved? But you love working the field."

"Yeah, but jumping at every busty blonde I see isn't exactly confidence-boosting, you know what I mean?" Greg said with a forced chuckle.

Catherine gave him a sympathetic glance. "Aw, Greg. You don't jump when you see me."

"No, I wait until your back is turned until I start freaking out," Greg replied with a light smile. But Catherine silently wondered how much he was actually joking.

"Sara, on the other hand," Greg continued, "is as restless as ever. You'd think nothing ever happened, the way she goes on about things. She's laughing again, she's just as tenacious as ever, and she's arguing with Grissom again— just like old times."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Catherine said. "After Woodward, she was cold and withdrawn, and you were bouncing off the walls, and now… well, look whose become cold and withdrawn?"

As if to emphasize her point, Greg folded his arms and muttered at her sullenly. "Yeah, well… Amy took me off my meds."

Catherine pulled into the parking lot of the lab. "What?"

"My shrink, Amy," Greg clarified. "See, my ex-girlfriend Rachel had me on Imipramine, but Amy said it was a conflict of interest, that I should never have been on them in the first place, and that…" he trailed off.

Catherine parked the car and looked at Greg. She had heard the nervousness in his voice. "Greg? Are you alright?"

He turned to her, his demeanor changing and grinned at her. "I'm fantastic," he said, before opening the car door and stepping outside. Catherine left the car too and they both headed towards the lab. But just as they were about to go in, Sara came bursting out and ran straight into Greg.

"Whoa, easy there, kitten," Greg said laughing as he wrapped his arms around her. "Where's the fire?"

Sara was looking irritated. "Take me home, Greg," she said simply.

Catherine looked at her watch. "Sara, it's only two o'clock, you're still—"

"I've been put on temporary leave," Sara said, sounding snide.

"For what?!" Greg exclaimed.

Sara shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Insubordination," she said. "Apparently, Grissom thinks I spoke out of turn."

Catherine and Greg exchanged looks. "What did you say?" Catherine asked.

Sara just grumbled in reply and appealed to Greg. "Take me home. Please?"

Greg looked at Catherine pleadingly, silently asking for her approval and she nodded. "I can handle this," she assured him. "I mean it was just a robbery anyways."

Greg smiled gratefully and kissed Sara's forehead. "OK, I promise I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," Catherine assured him. "It's not like we'll send out a search party or anything."

"Can I quote you on that?" Greg asked seriously.

Catherine laughed. "I'll make sure Grissom doesn't flip his lid either," she promised them.

Greg nodded his appreciation and slung his arm over Sara's shoulders as he walked her to his car. Catherine watched their retreating backs and shook her head. So Sara had acted out again. But this time it was bad enough that Grissom actually felt he needed to suspend her. She made a mental note to ask him why after she dropped off the evidence in the lab.

"Hodges!" she called as she saw him working.

"Get in line," Hodges snapped before turning around. "Oh, Catherine!" he cried, just realizing who she was. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone less important."

"You a little backed up in here?" Catherine asked with a raise of the eyebrow.

Hodges sighed as he looked over his shoulder at a rack of test tubes and evidence bags in a pile on the table. "Just a little."

"Well, take your time," Catherine said, setting down her evidence. "I don't want you stressing out."

She turned to leave when Hodges called after her. "Catherine, I wanted to ask you something, actually."

Catherine paused then turned to look at him curiously. "What's up?"

He was frowning at her, but Catherine wasn't sure if it was because he was in deep thought or if it was because he was accusing her of something. "Word on the wire is the girl who tortured Greg Sanders is pregnant," he said slowly. "Catherine, don't think I've forgotten about—"

"Don't jump to conclusions, Hodges," Catherine said quickly, giving him a dark warning glare. "As far as you or I know, that child could very well be legitimately that of Vera's late husband, Sasha."

Hoadges inhaled deeply and pursed his lips. It was in that moment that Catherine realized he had wanted to confront her about this for a long time and had already jumped to those conclusions and wasn't to be dissuaded. It bothered Catherine that he had jumped to the right conclusions… assuming, that is that Vera Volkova had told her the truth. And considering Greg's semen had been found at the scene, it was highly likely that she was.

"What do you expect from me, Catherine?" Hodges asked at last. "Do you expect me just to keep my mouth shut?"

"You damn well better," Catherine threatened.

"You're burying evidence," Hodges pointed out.

"I'm doing no such thing," Catherine replied calmly. "It's in the file. There's just… no need to tell Greg. OK?"

"You should have told me she was pregnant," Hodges said, folding his arms. "Back when you told me to say my evidence was… contaminated?"

"Hodges…" Catherine began, not knowing exactly what to say to make him shut up.

Thank God for Grissom, who appeared just in time. "Catherine, I want you on the Sylvan case."

Catherine blinked at him. "Grissom, I'm already working on the robbery case with Greg—"

"I know, but I sent Sara home," Grissom interrupted. "She was supposed to work it, but she… wasn't cooperating."

"Was that the stolen car case?" Catherine inquired. "I thought that was pretty much solved. Didn't the teenage son admit to it?"

"I just need you to file some final paperwork for me," Grissom explained as he handed her a file. "Can you do that?"

"No wonder Sara blew up at you," Catherine said as she pulled Grissom away from the trace lab. Any excuse to get away from Hodges was a good excuse. "You've had her on paperwork duty for the past three months. What did she say to you anyway?"

Grissom closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he told her.

"It must have been pretty bad for you to suspend her," Catherine pointed out.

"Let's just say that it was and leave it at that," Grissom compromised. "What were you and Hodges talking about?"

"Let's just say we both have topics we'd rather not discuss and leave it at that?" Catherine mimicked him.

He gave her a quirky smile. "Deal," he agreed, and changed the subject. "Is Greg speaking to you yet?"

Catherine nodded. "He was mad because he heard I postponed Vera Volkova's execution."

"Ecklie tells me she's pregnant," Grissom said dismally. "She can't be executed until the baby is born. Even then, she has to stay in prison for at least a whole year before a date can be considered."

"Yeah…" Catherine muttered. "They had a date set… I think it was in December of next year. I asked them to put it off for a few more… years."

"Catherine!" Grissom exclaimed. "After what she did to Greg? What would possess you to—"

"What did Sara say to you in the hall?" Catherine interrupted.

Grissom glared at her. "One of these days, you're going to answer my question."

Catherine gave him a look that said touché. "And one day, Grissom, you'll have to answer mine."

Sara fumbled with her keys while Greg leaned against the wall and watched her. Finally she opened her door and went into her apartment. Greg made a move to follow, but she closed the door just enough so he could only see her face. Greg looked almost insulted.

"This is as far as you go," Sara said. "I need a little me time, and you and Catherine need to finish that case."

"What happened with you and Grissom back at the lab?" he asked, knowing this was his last opportunity.

"Goodbye, Greg," Sara said with a grin. "Thanks for the ride."

"Sara, don't you close that door on—" But before he could even get the last word out, it had already happened. He cursed under his breath and banged his fists on the door. "Sara!" He screamed at the door. "Let me in!" But there was no reply. Greg banged his head against the door and sighed in frustration.

She was doing it again. The same thing she had done to Grissom. She was pushing him away. She was afraid of him. And the thought of Sara being afraid of him frightened Greg, too. He was trying not to make the same mistake Grissom had made. He was trying to give her space. He was trying so hard not to suffocate her. There were time when he wanted to lock her away in a cage and keep her from all the ugly things in the world, but he knew that would be a little extreme. Maybe a glass box would be more appropriate…

He knew if he pushed too hard, he'd push her far away from him, but he worried that if he didn't push at all she'd slip through the cracks of her sanity and completely shut herself off from the world. She was pretty close to it now. It seemed to Greg that the only person she opened up to was her court-ordered psychiatrist, and that was assuming she was opening up to her psychiatrist. Dr. Amy Waterstone played doctor to both of them, but due to doctor-patient confidentialilty, she wasn't allowed to discuss one with the other, which often infuriated Greg. Although he did have to give Amy props for trying to point him in the right direction. She had, after all, reminded Greg about Sara's birthday, and told him to surprise her with a trip to the Bamboo Garden, the new Japanese vegetarian restaurant. She had been thrilled, and Greg had been convinced that he'd just single-handedly saved their relationship. And then he'd reminded himself that he had needed Sara's psychiatrist to tell him what her favorite restaurant was, and he was suddenly melancholy all over again.

Greg knocked at Sara's door again, determined to get her to open up. But there was no reply. He leaned his ear against the door and heard the faint sound of water running. She might be in the shower. Volkov's violation hadn't diminished her addiction to compulsively washing and grooming herself. She used to take about five showers a day but after three months working with Amy, she was now down to only three.

Regardless of this new information, Greg continued to knock at her door. "Sara!" he called. "Sara, open up, I think we need to talk."

He sighed, noting the futility of screaming at his girlfriend while she was behind a closed door (possibly two, including the bathroom) and in the shower. But Greg wasn't one to give up easily. He resolved to wait until the water stopped running and then start knocking and screaming again. He leaned his back against the door and slid down to the floor, one leg folded up against his chest, the other extended, ready to trip unsuspecting passersby. Vaguely he had remembered promising Catherine that he would return to the lab shortly, but he didn't think it would matter too much.

An image of Grissom and Catherine running around frantically like chickens with their heads cut off entered Greg's imagination. They even flapped their arms like chickens. "Oh no!" the Grissom chicken was squawking. "Greg isn't here! Whatever are we to do without him?"

"I don't know," the Catherine chicken answered him. "Maybe he's been killed or kidnapped or engaged to an Elvis impersonator!" The Grissom chicken stopped squawking to give the Catherine chicken a look, who shrugged. "Hey, it's Vegas, it can happen."

And then they continued to run around again.

This little daydream entertained Greg for about two minutes until he got bored of it. He then wondered what Nick would look like as a turkey. This new thought led to picturing his other colleagues as birds and fascinated him for a full three and a half minutes until he finally lost interest in fowl all together. He did have to admit that Warrick made one pretty mean looking owl. He banged the back of his head against the door, wondering when Sara's shower would be done.

Eventually, and he hadn't realized it, but he had somehow fallen asleep. The only way he had even realized he was sleeping was because he was suddenly jarred awake. His wakeup call was something furry rubbing up against his arm, which he reflexively snatched and tried to flail across the hall.

He regretted this action immediately as there was a high pitched wail followed by hissing and spitting as something attacked his newly-healed left hand. He let out a growl of annoyance as he kicked the cat off of his hand and tried not to cry out as its claws ripped open the scars. He sent the pesky feline on its way down the hall, but not before it glared at him in a threatening I'll be back cat sort of way.

Greg looked at his hand and was annoyed to see that it was bleeding. The cat had scratched across his palm, opening four different scars at twelve different places. Like a dog licking its wounds, Greg took his tongue to his hand, lapping up the blood.

The taste of it brought an immediate flashback to Vera Volkova's house. He was tied to the chair as she kissed him, her rough tongue tasting of his own blood.

He shivered as he brought himself back to the present and stared down at his hand. The brown scars marked an outline of a skeleton in his hand. Greg recalled at the time he had equated the image to that of the veins in a leaf, but now it looked more violent than it had at the time. After all, he'd been under the influence of PCP, everything seemed interesting to him, even his own pain.

Greg tried to push these memories away but failed miserably. Instead he dug in his pocket for a quicker fix and pulled out an orange bottle. He poured small white pill onto his hand and popped it in his mouth, swallowing it dry. He looked at his watch and immediately was on his feet.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. He had fallen asleep for an hour and a half. He quickly fished out his cell phone and noted three missed calls from Catherine. "Fuck a duck…" Greg muttered, before opening his phone and immediately calling her back.

"Greg?!"

She was anxious and scared and it fell on Greg to quell her fears. "Relax, Catherine, I fell asleep."

"You fell asleep?!"

"Uh… yeah…" Greg replied, looking warily at the door. "Look, you said you wouldn't send out a search party—"

"I didn't say I wouldn't call," Catherine snapped. "Jesus, Greg, you've been gone for over two hours, how long does it take to drop Sara off? You weren't answering your phone, hell, I was about to have Archie trace you!"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Listen, Cath, I'm not coming in tonight," he said. "There are some personal things I need to take care of. Cool?"

"No, Greg, not cool—"

"Catherine, you promised you wouldn't freak out," Greg muttered, exasperated. "I don't need you freaking out about me because you haven't heard from me in two hours."

She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke again she had calmed down significantly. "It's just that last time, Greg, you broke for lunch and no one even realized you were gone until your kidnapper told us that she had you…"

"And the time before that we were snatched from a scene in a remote location, so now neither Sara nor I can go anywhere remote at all. I get it, Catherine. You guys don't want it to happen again, but why is it all about us? It could happen to any of us."

"I know that, Greg," Catherine said, her voice sounding incredibly small. This caught Greg off guard. He was used to a confident Catherine, and now she sounded… timid. "And that's what scares me the most."

"So what are you going to do, Catherine?" Greg asked her, seriously. "Let crimes go uninvestigated because you're too scared to send any of your friends out there? You got into this job knowing there was some risk involved. You knew all of this."

"I knew there would be risk for me," Catherine acknowledged. "I didn't realize how unwilling I was to… risk my friends."

Greg smiled, touched by her sincerity. "Well we know the risk too," he told her. "We've all been through something, Catherine. And shit happens. And enough of it has already happened to Sara and me. If anything, I'd be worried about those of us who haven't been kidnapped or hurt at a crime scene. I'd be worried about Warrick. Or, hell, Grissom."

"If this is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't," Catherine deadpanned.

Greg laughed. "OK, fine," he admitted. "My point is, relax a little. You and Grissom both. You may find that we'll surprise you."

"It's surprises that we're afraid of, Greg," Catherine pointed out. "But you're right. We both need to calm down. I'll try and talk to him about it. Maybe you and Sara could do a few more 419s… A big case every so often."

"Solo cases?" Greg pressed.

"That's pushing it, Greggo," Catherine said sharply. She relaxed. "But… we'll see."

Greg sighed. "Thanks Cath. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Catherine agreed and Greg hung up.

He turned to the door again and knocked. "Sara?" he called. He leaned his ear against it, hoping to hear something from her. But all he heard was running water. Sara took long showers, but none of them ever lasted this long.

Suddenly worried, Greg banged on the door again, this time much louder and his voice carrying much more urgently. "Sara?! Sara, open up! Please?"

When he received no reply, he decided to take drastic action. He readied his shoulder to bang against the door. He looked down and realized he was about to ram the door with his left shoulder and decided that wasn't a good idea, considering three months ago that's where Vera had stabbed him and nine months ago, Woodward had shot him. So he changed positions and aimed with his right shoulder. He rammed the door once, twice, three times, but it wouldn't budge. Greg knew he wasn't as strong as say Nick was, but he could break down a door as good as anyone. So he kept trying. Finally, on the fifth hit, the door gave way and swung back on his hinges. Greg looked around briefly before stepping inside…