Nick's POV:
Greg's house isn't anything like I pictured. It's clean and organized. The tables are a photojournalist spread of Abby growing up. There are pictures of her graduating, pictures of Abby and Greg on vacation, and pictures randomly taken to remember days that held no significance other than Abby being with Greg. My heart broke for him.
I called Grissom to say that Greg wasn't doing well. He said to stay with Greg until some family got there to stay with him. Grissom was shocked when I told him that there wasn't any family to comfort Greg; his only family was the lab. He was the nerdy younger brother to us all. The burden rested completely on the shoulders of a man that was forced to grow up at such a young age. He was not only her brother, but the closest thing to a father Abby would ever have.
He aimlessly walked around the house. Little remnants of her lay haphazardly among the order that Greg established, a hair brush and a copy of a large medical text. He busied himself by doing dishes. I was worried that he had stopped talking. Greg seemed so much happier when he talked about Abby; after all, she was all that he had for the past eighteen years.
"Nick, you don't need to stay," Greg said weakly when I joined him in the kitchen.
"Are you going to be okay if I leave?" I asked.
"I'm not going to do anything stupid if that's what you are asking," Greg replied. A glass slipped out of his hand and shattered on the tile floor. He began to curse loudly as he picked up the fragments.
"Greg, why don't you go sit down. I can clean this up," I offered.
"Please just leave me alone . . . just leave me alone," Greg said weakly. I could see the contrast between the red blood and white skin. He didn't even notice the substantial cut on his hand.
"Greg, are you sure you want me to leave," I asked again to clarify.
"I'll be at work tomorrow night. Thank you for the ride home," Greg replied mechanically.
It felt wrong to leave Greg alone, but I wasn't sure if my presence was upsetting him. I'm not sure if he even realized that he said that I had the perfect family and I would never understand how he was feeling. I was taken aback. I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I did have a big family. I always had someone to look out for me. I was never alone. Greg and Abby spent their entire life shrouded in a loneliness that I would never understand.
The drive back to the lab was long. My shift was almost over. I didn't have any cases; nor, did I want to take on any cases. I wanted to go home and call my sister; I wanted to tell her that I loved her. I was sure that she wouldn't understand, but it would put my mind at ease. I wondered what Greg's last words to Abby were before he left for work. For his sake, I hoped that they were something meaningful.
Sara, Warrick, and Grissom were in Grissom's office. The mood was somber. I imagined that they were talking about Abby; they were probably dividing up the case work. I really didn't want anything to do with the case; I couldn't after learning more about Abby and how much Greg loved her. Without knowing her, the case was still too personal.
"How's Greg doing?" Sara asked when I walked into Grissom's office.
"Not good. He said he needed to be alone," I replied. I began to wonder if I should have stayed with him . . . just to make sure that his grief wasn't giving way to feelings of guilt or actions of harm.
"I didn't realize. I feel like an ass for even bringing him to that crime scene," Grissom muttered.
"You don't have the insight to deal with people well," Sara commented. Any other time, her comment would probably be considered rude, but I even wondered what Grissom was thinking when he took Greg to investigate the hit and run of Abigail Sanders. Sometimes, I wondered if Grissom even knew our last names.
"Tough break," Warrick lamented.
"I found his HR file. He didn't fill the emergency contact section out," Catherine said as she laid the thin file down on Grissom's desk.
"Greg said that there was no one to call," I replied.
"It's not fair, is it," Sara replied. She walked over to Grissom's desk and picked up a pen. She began to write in the file; probably filled out her information in the emergency contact section of Greg's file. Sara might not be good with emotion, but she has this uncanny ability to always do the right thing.
"I think I might stop over at his house after shift," Sara said. It was well known that Greg always had a crush on her. Sara was just very slow to realize how much he cared about her. She never returned his affections.
"The house is a little creepy," I replied, "There are pictures of Abby everywhere. It's nothing I ever expected from Greg."
"I guess we all have our secrets," Catherine replied.
"Here's the only place he probably ever got to be himself . . . get away from having to always be the one that's in charge," Warrick replied. It did make sense; this was the only place where Greg could be a goof-ball; where he could be himself.
"We should probably call a grief counselor for him," I suggested, "He's never planned a funeral before; Greg said he had no idea what to do next. He wants to come back to work tomorrow."
"He's going to burn himself out," Warrick replied.
"Yeh, but do you want him to sit in his house alone," Catherine replied, "Greg might do better if he's in the lab under our watchful eyes."
"I don't want him in the field," Grissom said.
"He's going to think you are punishing him," Sara argued, "Maybe you should let him make that decision."
"Grissom, do you have cases to hand over to me? My day shift is waiting," Eckley said as he pounded on the door. There was no need for him to do that; the door was open and we were all in the office.
"No, I'm keeping the case I had last night. Take the new stuff," Grissom replied.
"Are you sure? Day shift can close the hit and run before your people are back tonight," Eckley replied. I hated the way he always emphasized your people.
"No, it's my case. Stay the hell away from it," Grissom hissed, "You guys, go home. I have some work to do."
"Griss . . . I'll stay," I offered.
"No, it's my burden," Grissom replied as he stood up. He brushed passed us without another word.
"Give him time. Grissom just needs to reclaim control over the situation. Sara, go take care of Greg. Nick, Warrick, go home and get some sleep. I'm going to start processing the tire treads and fragments of the headlight," Catherine said breaking the silence of the room.
"Cath, I can stay," I repeated.
"Not today. We'll need you, Sara and Warrick to keep things running in the lab while Gris and I close this case," Catherine said as she gathered the file from Grissom's desk. Catherine was always like the rational 'parent' of this family. She took care of crises the most effectively.
"Sara, keep an eye on Greg. You call Nick or Warrick if you get in over your head," Catherine cautioned as she shooed us from the office.