Author's note: I know this is a couple of weeks late, but I had a bit of a lot of school work to do, and today was the first chance I've had to actually write this. Some spoilers for "Miscarriage of Justice" in case you haven't seen it yet.

"Something on your mind, Sanders?" Riley Adams said, without looking up from the report she was filling out about the case they had closed yesterday.

"Nope," Greg Sanders said, a little too quickly.

"Then please stop staring at me. You're making me uncomfortable."

They were sitting in their office. Greg was at his desk, looking at Riley, who was sitting across from him. He was debating whether or not to ask her the question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind for the last two days.

"Riley's not shy. If she wants to tell us, she will." That's what Nick had said. But Greg wasn't quite ready to let it go…

"I'm going for coffee," he said, standing up. "You want some?"

"What's wrong with the cup on your desk? You barely touched it."

Greg looked down and saw the cup of coffee he had gotten an hour earlier. At a loss for words, and a little embarrassed, he slowly sank back into his chair.

Riley looked up from her report. "What's up with you, Sanders? You've been acting weird around me for the last two days. Something's on your mind. Spit it out already."

Greg sighed. There was no getting out of it now. "Alright," he said. "But don't interrupt me, okay? I want to say this all the way through."

"Deal," Riley said, leaning forward.

Greg took a deep breath and began.

"I couldn't help but notice that Dominic Humphrey's suicide struck a nerve. I'm not judging that. Sooner or later in this job, everyone has a case that hits close to home." He paused, hoping that she would stop him. When she didn't say anything, he continued.

"I know you're not shy, and that you want to talk about things like this on your own terms. I guess I just wanted to say that you don't have to go it alone. If you want to talk I'm here, ready and willing to listen."

When he was finished, Greg sat back and waited. Riley's expression hadn't changed the whole time he was talking, and he wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

After a minute, she sat back and continued working on her report. Greg sighed, feeling a little hurt. He wasn't sure how he had expected Riley to react, but he definitely wasn't expecting complete silence.

He picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip—and promptly spat it out. That's what I get for letting it sit for an hour, he thought. Standing, he said "You want some coffee? I'm going for a fresh cup."

"No, thanks," Riley said, without looking up. "I'm good"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After his shift was over, Greg walked to his second favorite after hours hang out, the Bama Breeze. His first was the diner where the team had had their last breakfast with Warrick. It wasn't that Greg was afraid to go back there; it was just that this morning he was in the mood for something stronger than bacon and eggs.

He was about halfway through his first beer when a voice behind him said, "Howdy stranger. Come here often?" He turned and saw Riley standing there with a grin on her face.

"Hey," Greg said, surprised. "I wasn't sure if we were still on speaking terms after what happened earlier."

"You were just concerned for the newest team member," She said, sitting down on the bar stool next to him. "Besides, I put you in that awkward position when I made you tell me what was on your mind. So I was hoping I could make it up to you by leveling with you."

"Okay," Greg said, surprised at this unexpected turn of events. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah, I'll just have whatever you're having."

Greg flagged down the bartender and ordered Riley's drink, plus a refill for himself. When their drinks came, Riley stood up. "Let's get a table. What I've got to say is best said out of ear shot of the bartender."

"Okay," Greg said, and he led the way to a booth in the back of the bar, where they sat in silence for the better half of five minutes before Greg worked up the courage to say, "So you came here to tell me something?"

Riley sighed and took a sip of her beer. "That's right, but you have to bear with me. I haven't talked about this in a long time. And don't interrupt me. I want to tell it all the way through."

Greg nodded and Riley began.

"It was my junior year in college. My best friend, Stephanie, and I had rented an apartment off campus and we were living it up. At least, I was which is probably why I didn't notice when she began to slip into a depression. Anyway, it was the end of the first semester. Exams were over and everyone was going home for Christmas the next day, but first, of course, was the night of partying. I had plans to go to a party that night. I invited Stephanie along, but she insisted that she needed to stay there and pack. I had plans of my own, so I just left her."

Riley sighed, fighting back tears. Greg reached out and took her hand. "It's okay," he said. "You can stop if you want."

She shook her head. "No I want to tell this story. I need to tell it." Greg nodded and she continued.

"I had only walked halfway to the student parking lot where I kept my car when I realized I had forgotten my keys. I went back to the apartment to get them—and that's when I found the note on the kitchen table.

"After I read it, I ran to the bathroom and heard the water running. I opened the door and there was blood everywhere. I ran out and grabbed the phone and called 911. Then I went back to the bathroom to try and stop the bleeding.

"While I was wrapping towels around her wrists, she woke up. She kind of moaned and said, 'I'm sorry, Riley. I just couldn't get him out of my head.' I tried to keep her talking, but it was too late. She was gone."

Then Riley stopped. Greg could tell she was fighting really hard to keep the tears in check. "What did she mean, 'I couldn't get them out of my head'?" he asked.

"I did some digging and it turns out she was raped at one of the first frat parties of the year. She pressed charges, but the guy was a football player, so the college didn't do a damn thing about it. And they didn't step in when the football team began harassing her. It just became too much and she killed herself. I just keep thinking that maybe if I had paid a little more attention, I could have helped her."

"Riley," Greg said, moving around to her side of the booth. "It is not your fault. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I know. It was those bastards on the football team that drove her to it. Stephanie never got justice. But that whole mess was what made me decide to become a CSI."

"Then it wasn't a total loss," Greg said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you can't get justice for Stephanie, but you can keep what happened to her from happening to someone else."

Riley looked him in the eyes and forced a smile. "Thanks, Greg. I've needed to hear that for a long time."

Greg smiled back. "I do what I can," he said. Just then the rest of the team came in and waved to them. Riley quickly dried her eyes and hurried off to the bathroom to wash her face. Greg picked up their drinks and wandered over to where Nick and Catherine were rearranging the tables.

When Riley came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she didn't look as though she had been crying at all. She'll be fine, Greg thought. She'll be just fine.