I make no claim to own CSI, the characters or any of the situations therein, I write in homage, with no intent to steal.

A/N Sorry that I've taken longer than usual to update. A couple of my ongoing health problems got together and have been holding my power of concentration hostage for a few days. It escaped sometime during last night, but is still recovering from it's ordeal. I hope that hasn't had too much of an effect on the following chapter...

Senseless

Once they arrived back at Grissom's house, Warrick made himself busy. After he finished giving the kitchen area a thorough clean, he fed and cleaned out Grissom's roaches and tarantula, which had been moved to Grissom's house once it became clear he wouldn't be using his office for a while - much to Catherine's relief.

Once that was done, Warrick looked around seeking an excuse to stay around a little longer. Fortunately it seemed Grissom had the same idea, asking for Warrick's help in changing his CDs over.

Grissom was quite cheered by Warrick's next suggestion, that they make a grocery list of stuff that Catherine wouldn't buy him. Beer, a few treats and, horror of horrors, microwave meals.

"I'll try and find some that Catherine can't object to too much on health grounds. We can find a way of marking on the packets how many minutes you need to put them in for. As long as it's not all you eat, I'm sure Catherine would rather you had one of those every so often than ended up going hungry."

"Sounds reasonable." Grissom replied. "Warrick, can I ask you to do one more thing for me?"

"Sure Griss, what do you need?"

Grissom's private vehicle was still in his spot in the lab's car park. He asked Warrick to collect it, get it valeted and then take a few photographs that could be used for an advertisement.

"You want me to place an ad?" Warrick was still concerned at how Grissom seemed to be reacting to what was really an artificial milestone.

"No, no, not just yet anyway. Just bring it back and put it in the garage for now. There are a couple of tarps in there you can throw over it." Grissom fiddled with his key fob and handed over car and garage keys to Warrick.

Finally, with no more excuses to remain, Warrick left.

Grissom could feel the gravity waves of depression dragging him down. He hadn't wanted Warrick to leave, but knew he'd taken enough of his friend's time. Afterward he'd curled up on his couch and slept for a while before waking up groggy and disoriented, even reaching to try and find the switch for his standard lamp, before remembering it would make no difference whether it was on or off. He'd tried to energise himself with his music, but despite Warrick just having helped him pick out a new selection, he couldn't find any of it that he could be bothered to listen to. He knew he needed help to drag himself up from this.

Reaching for his 'phone he mentally ran through his speed dial list, then hit a few buttons. A woman's voice answered, with the slightly distracted tone of someone who was in the middle of doing something else. "Robbins residence."

"Jane? Hi, it's Gil Grissom, is Al around?"

"Hey, Gil. Robert, go tell your father Dr. Grissom's on the phone. Al shouldn't be long." Jane Robbins didn't bother to ask how Grissom was; she was a perceptive woman and a doctor's wife who knew better than to ask a silly question. Fortunately Al picked up before the silence slipped from sympathetic into awkward.

"Hello, Gil, how can I help?" Having been through a life changing trauma of his own, Al Robbins had visited him in hospital and made a few jokes about how Grissom must be sick of doctors asking him how he was feeling. After that he'd given his friend space whilst making sure Grissom knew he was there whenever he was needed.

"Sorry to bother you, Al, but things have got to me today and I could really use your company. Any chance you could spare me a couple of hours before your shift starts?"

"Well, we were just about to eat, but... Ah, Jane is waving the Tupperware at me, looks like I'll be with you in twenty minutes or so, and apparently I'll be bringing dinner for two."

"That would be great. Please thank Jane for me, for dinner and the loan of her husband."

There was a low chuckle before Al said goodbye and hung up.

Al had been the right man to call. Even though Grissom had opened up a little to Warrick earlier, he still didn't feel he could reveal to much of himself. Warrick still called him 'Boss' occasionally and, while Grissom was unsure if he'd ever have that role again, that and the age difference between the two men had been enough to stop him being completely honest about how he was feeling.

His friendship with Al was different. They'd never been part of same chain of command, and what had started as a mutual respect for each other's expertise had expanded, as they discovered they shared both interests and a sense of humour, into a strong friendship. Although before now it had never extended into the world outside work.

Grissom knew he must look bad. After he'd let Robbins in the coroner had made him sit at his dining table and he'd been given no choice but to simply sit there listening to the beep of the microwave, the clatter of plates and cutlery and various other noises of dinner being re-heated and served all accompanied by the tapping of the Doc's crutch as he moved around.

"Beef casserole at twelve o'clock, mash potatoes at four and the greens are between eight and ten." Grissom heard the slight thud as a plate was placed in front of him. He carefully moved his fingers seeking his cutlery and managed to locate his knife and fork before Al returned to the table from fetching his own plate. The thoughtfulness Al showed by telling him what his food was and how it was arranged on his plate was a relief. He needed that little extra consideration right now. He felt... He felt... Fragile.

For someone who had chosen to go from treating living people to carving corpses, Al Robbins had an excellent bedside manner. Although he could see Grissom's hands shaking, he made sure his friend had eaten as much as he was likely to before trying to discover what had caused the downturn in Grissom's mood. Griss explained about the lack of change in his condition, the pressure he felt he was under to start making decisions and his conversation with Anne. He even managed to admit to the feelings of depression which were now engulfing him.

"I guess it's time I started facing up to my situation." He finished with the deepest of sighs.

Al was sympathetic, understanding the swings between hope and despair that his friend was experiencing, the kind of rollercoaster even Gil Grissom wouldn't want to ride for long. He accepted that in some ways he had been 'lucky'. Once he lost his legs the situation was immediately clear, they weren't going to grow back. The basic uncertainty of Grissom's situation could not be helping him. He reminded the CSI that 'facing up' was not the same as 'giving up'. He approved of the decision to go on the course, encouraging Grissom to try whatever sessions were offered him as part of the residential programme, including counselling.

"I know you see that as an invasion of your privacy, Gil, but give it a try, even if you have to tell yourself that you're only doing it because I told you to."

Once he felt Grissom was starting to feel calmer about his future, or the next few days at least, Robbins steered the conversation onto other things. Although most people would have found the subjects they discussed increasingly macabre, they somehow began to lift Grissom's mood, and by the time Robbins left, grasping his host's shoulder in a final gesture of reassurance and support, Griss was able to go to bed in a much more positive mood.

Catherine was starting the shift with another case meeting. She felt that the previous one, although only twenty-four hours earlier, had thrown up enough new ideas to be worth repeating the exercise. This time she was expanding attendance beyond her core team of CSIs. Jim Brass had been invited, as had Archie Johnson, and somehow David Hodges was there too.

Brass was the first to speak. His detectives had been following up Greg's query about who had called in the truck accident. Apparently a number of items on the truck had been tagged with their own individual GPS trackers, as had the vehicle itself. When all of these had been stationary for over an hour and far from any scheduled stop the controller had tried to reach the driver on his cell. After there was no response the decision was made to call in the Patrol. It seemed like a dead end, but Brass wasn't giving up just yet and now had his detectives looking into those who might have known the truck's route and timetable.

Jim also had more work for the team, some solid detective work from Sofia and Vega had narrowed down the prospective abduction sites for Henry Johnson down to two. It would take some CSI work to identify if either was correct and maybe discover something new.

Archie had been working to establish what kind of light source might have been used in the attacks. "The most obvious candidate is some kind of laser. It would be the easiest thing to aim and keep focussed over the kind of distances we're talking about. Grissom said the light was white, which means it was probably multi-frequency, and the hospital's findings on it's effects agree with that. Powerful multi-frequency lasers are pretty rare combined with the lower powered ruby red ones like we use. Main sources would be hospitals and the military, and most hospital lasers are designed to be stationary. As this guy is moving his around a lot I'd say military is your better bet.

"Military isn't much help to us," Jim responded. "I can have someone look into the hospital angle easily enough, but start asking the military if they're missing equipment, especially something which makes a handy weapon and they'll shut up like clams. If they're really worried they'll even start turning up here and getting under all our feet. Either way it won't help us locate our man. If you guys don't mind I'd rather leave the MPs out of it until as near the end as possible."

"It's your call Jim." Catherine was happy to accept Brass's advice on this. "Warrick and Nick, split the two possible abduction sites between you. If you can identify which is the right one then get together to go over it."

Archie spoke up again, reminding them that any CCTV footage from the site might be useful in cross referencing with vehicles from the car park that was Anne Harris's dump site.

"Anyone got anything else to add?"

"We still haven't answered 'Why Grissom?'" Sara said.

"We just have to accept that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Sara." Catherine was trying to be kind, but she was feeling a little exasperated.

"Believe it or not, Catherine, but I do realise that Grissom was just a random choice. It's the 'wrong time' part that's still bothering me though. If he was just waiting for someone to come along on foot like Greg has theorised, why didn't he pick on one of the Highway Patrol guys? They'd been around for a while before they called the lab in. Even if he specifically wanted a CSI, Griss and Greg had been on location about twenty minutes before he struck, there must have been plenty of opportunities before. Why did he wait?"

"Yeah, Sara's right. Griss was working by the cab of the truck, we'd both been around that spot on and off from the moment we got there. Griss sent me off to take photos of where the truck's tracks started to swerve, about a quarter mile up the road. I suppose he could have been waiting for me to be far enough away that I couldn't get to Grissom at once..."

"But maybe there was another reason."

Everyone turned to look at Hodges.

"Well I'm just saying! There must be more than one possible explanation."

"And your alternative is?" Catherine's raised eyebrow was a good imitation of Grissom's trademark.

Hodges just looked embarrassed, so Catherine resumed. "Archie, I'm guessing a laser of the sort you describe would need a lot more power than the kind we use?" Archie nodded. "So maybe whatever supply he was using took time to recharge. He may even have needed to go somewhere to fetch more batteries or fuel. Sara, could you get the exact times of the truck's GPS coming to a halt and Greg's emergency call, see if you can extrapolate a journey radius from those?"

Sara agreed, managing to smile at Catherine, now her suggestion was being taken seriously.

After passing an assignment slip to Greg, Catherine brought the meeting to a close and let everyone disperse. As she reached what she still thought of as Grissom's office Brass caught up to her.

"I thought you might want to have a chat, away from prying ears." he said, drawing the door closed behind them.

Catherine sighed as she settled into what she had discovered was a very comfortable chair. She was rather less comfortable with what sitting in it actually meant.

"Warrick tells me Gil seems to be coming round to the idea his sight loss might be permanent."

"Does that bother you like it's bothering me?" Jim wanted to know.

"Oh I'm bothered by it, but I don't know if I have a problem with the idea that Gil might be giving up, or that I'm just having more trouble coping with the situation than he is."

Catherine fiddled with Grissom's name plate. She'd turned it around so visitors to the office wouldn't be confused, but hadn't quite persuaded herself to replace it with the "Catherine Willows, Supervisor" plate which she had kept from her swing shift days.

"Not everyone here has that problem though." she resumed. Ecklie saw Warrick moving Gil's car from the parking lot earlier. He asked if I wanted the space, then pretty much offered me his job too. I told him I wasn't even prepared to consider it unless Grissom or his doctors actually say he won't be coming back. Apparently I need to think about it sooner though, before Ecklie starts advertising nationally."

Brass muttered a few words about Ecklie that he probably wouldn't have used in front of any lady except Catherine.

"Let me know if he talks about that again. I might find myself taking the time to remind the Sheriff of how bad it would look to advertise the job of a man injured on duty before it's known if he'll be fit to return. I'm sure the press and therefore the public won't make much distinction between a CSI and a regular cop in those circumstances."

"Playing politics Jim?"

"I don't like the game any more than Gil does, difference is I learnt how to play, and I'll play well if I have to, especially for Gil. Plus, Ecklie can't take revenge on me the way he could with you guys."

"I'll let you know how it goes, Jim, but don't risk your neck yet, particularly if there's a chance Gil might be getting ready to quit of his own accord. I couldn't cope with both of you gone, and I have an even worse problem than Ecklie to deal with."

Brass was alarmed. "A worse problem?"

"Hodges. He's started to latch on to me the way he used to with Gil. He did it a little when I got promoted to Swing Supervisor, but it wasn't so bad because I didn't work directly with him. But Hodges must have been talking to Ecklie because he's got me down as the next Night Supervisor too and one sniff of power..."

Catherine and Brass both shivered. It wasn't looking hopeful for Grissom if the rat that was Hodges was jumping ship.

TBC