Sara was sleeping lightly, her head resting on the edge of Nick's hospital bed. Nick had been sleeping soundly for almost 3 hours, though his face was scrunched in obvious pain. His hair was tousled and his face was deathly pale. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness, a side effect of the concussion he'd sustained. His breathing had eased a little but his arm was still slung protectively against his ribs. Sara was stirred from her dreamless sleep by the vibration of her pager. She straightened in the hard plastic chair she'd been sitting in, an audible pop sounding when she stretched her back like a sleepy cat. She looked towards Nick, he hated when she popped her back like that, but he was still sound asleep. She glanced at the screen of her pager. Grissom. Figured. She sighed deeply before pushing herself up and moving towards the door of the room. She paused to run her hand over Nicks head and dropped a kiss on his forehead. She told him she'd be back soon, despite the fact he probably couldn't hear her. She had barely made it through the hospital doors into the crisp morning air when her cell started ringing.

"Sidle" She answered using her surname more out of habit that anything. Grissom didn't waste time dispensig formalities, launching straight into his piece.

"We just picked up the guy that attacked Nick. We're hoping he can lead us back to lynch. I just thought Nick should know."

Sara didn't even realise how mad she was at Grissom until she heard his voice on the phone. All business. She'd heard that he'd left Nick alone at the scene but Nick had talked her down a little. Telling her it was no big deal, that people processed scenes alone all the time. It was just bad luck. He took the news in his usual manner. Not apportioning blame, just putting it down to his shitty Stokes luck. Grissom could almost feel the heat in Sara's words all the same.

"Oh, so this is something you think he should know! Grissom! He's barely conscious, recovering from surgery, and you think he needs to know that you're going to pick up the punk ass junkie that put him here. You really think he needs to be thinking about the job right now. I suppose you want him to come interview the guy too do you?"

"Look Sara, I know you're worried about Nick, and I know you probably blame me for what happened…"

"Blame you? Who else do you think is to blame? You left him there Gris! Alone. You don't think that you leaving the scene was something that he actually did need to know about?"

"Sara, can you just pass on the message ok. I think he deserves to be kept informed of the situation."

"It's a little late for you to be worried about what Nick deserves."

And that was it. The dial tone sounded in Grissom's ear. He dropped his cell onto his desk and rose wearily to go meet Brass in the interview room. He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He'd known Sara long enough to know he couldn't reason with her when she was in this kind of mood. It was best just to let her cool off in her own time. He pushed off the desk and headed out of his dark office.

Dan Squires had been picked up at his last known address just an hour after his photograph had lead to his identification. He now sat nervously opposite Jim Brass and Gil Grissom. He fidgeted, looked around the room, despite the fact that there was nothing in there to look at. His hair was tousled and his eyes were wide like he might still be rolling on something mind altering. He hadn't spoken yet, neither had either of the other men in the room. It was a Mexican standoff, every man "appreciating" every other. Brass watched Dan, who watched Grissom, who watched Brass. Jim couldn't quite believe that this was the kid who had beaten the hell out of Nick. He was most definitely just a kid, looked no older than 19, was in actual fact just 17, scrawny as hell, but then he guessed you didn't need to be ripped to swing a metal bat into someone's skull. Grissom was caught between watching the suspect with his investigators eye to determine what exactly his game was, and watching Brass to see when he'd find out just how pissed off the seasoned detective was with him. News that Gil had left Nick alone had seeped out of the AV lab and Grissom knew Jim knew. Chris had called him up to tell him about the suspension and to inform him in no uncertain terms that when IA arrived he wouldn't be covering anyone's ass but his own. Grissom half wondered why he'd been allowed to sit in on the interview. Dan...Dan was another story, he had no ulterior motive right now, he was just scared as hell. It was the first time he'd been in a police station. He had no family to sit with him, and since he was still a minor they had to wait for a social worker to arrive before he could be questioned.

Having sat in the interview room for almost an hour without anyone speaking, the pressure seemed to be getting to Dan. Jim kept shuffling clear bags around the table. Bags that contained all the items found on Dan at the time of his arrest. The Kid had finally had all he could take.

"OK man, just, y'know, just like, just tell me what's goin' on man, huh?"

Brass looked up from the spot on the desk he'd been starring at.

"The officer told you when he arrested you why you were being arrested, so just sit there and shut up until the social worker gets here. Unless of course you want to waive the right to be represented by an appropriate adult?"

It was obvious that Dan had spaced out somewhere in the middle of Jim's sentence, checking back in for the ending. Grissom narrowed his eyes and studied the young man sitting opposite him. The suspects voice sounded almost childlike.

"Huh? Yea, yea, that's what I want to do, I want to just, y'know talk or somethin' ok, can we just do that?"

Brass had found an in, and damn if he wasn't going to use it.

"OK Kid, why don't we start with you explaining why you almost killed a member of the LVPD?"

"What? No, I didn't" Dans eyes darted between Grissom and Brass. Had he really hurt the guy that bad? He wasn't going to die was he? Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"We have you on video tape cracking him over the head with a bat, so I reckon we can assume it was you…unless you have a twin brother somewhere we don't know about?"

Jims smile was sardonic, Grissom tapped his arm gently. A kind of "go easy on the kid" tap. Brass glared at the seasoned CSI, a "don't even get me started on you" look.

"No, look, I wasn't trying to kill him, I just, I was just doin' what I was told to do y'know, it was just a mistake, yea, it was an accident. I'm sorry"

Dan fidgeted in his seat, trying in vain to stop tears slipping down his cheeks. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone. He was just following orders.

"Yea, an accident. Figures. So how'd you wind up being so careless? Did Lynch send you to the house?"

Dan's face immediately tightened. His features relaxing to become void of emotion. He didn't want to talk about Stan Lynch. He felt confused and lost. He didn't want to go to jail. He just wanted to go home.

"Hey, Dan, answer the question. Why did you go to the house?"

"I don't know, I just, I went there ok."

"Where's Lynch?"

"Don't know" the answer held a degree of petulance and was accompanied by a small shrug and a long drawn out sigh.

"Dan. The man you beat up is seriously ill in hospital. If he doesn't make it through you're going to be charged with murdering a law enforcement officer and WHEN you get convicted you'll spend the rest of your life in prison. So if you have anything to say that might help you out…now id probably the time to say it."

Silence. Grissom figured he'd give it a shot. Try a new direction with the boy.

"Who killed Mikey Campbell?"

"Who? Look I don't even know anyone called that. I'm just a runner man. I don't do anything that'll hurt no body."

Brass evidently couldn't hold his tongue. Anger radiated off him and he looked ready to tear strips of the kid.

"So what, you carry round a bat to cave people's heads in and you deal death to kids but you don't expect anyone to get hurt. Don't be purposefully naive son."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…I just, Stan said to go get the drugs from his place, said he couldn't go cause the cops were lookin' for him. He said there'd be no one there. I just…I got surprised ok, I didn't want to get in trouble, so I waited till the cops left and went into the house. Figured I could just knock the other guy out and get the drugs and leave. I didn't mean for him to get hurt real bad or nothin'. He's ok right? He's gonna be ok?"

"Where did Stan tell you to take the drugs too?"

"He gave me a list. Told me to get the drugs and deliver them like normal."

Brass shoved an evidence bag towards Squires.

"This the list?" He knew it was, even without the affirmative nod.

"You say you don't know Mikey Campbell, but looks like his daddy's on the list. You deliver drugs to him? Collect money and take it back to Lynch?"

"No…Stan. He has a different arrangement with Mike. He don't pay cash y'know. Stan takes care of that one himself. I don't know how comes he's on the list this week."

"But Stan and Mike know each other."

"Yea."

"Where did you take the cash too?"

"I didn't yet. Look man, please, he'll kill me. Don't make me tell you anything else, please, just, I'm sorry."

Tears streamed down his baby face. He looked so much like a lost soul that it was hard to imagine he'd beaten Nick so hard. Grissom spoke guietly, feeling a sudden empathy with the boy. He was so obviously just a mixed up guy who'd taken the wrong road.

"All we need is the time and place you're meant to meet him."

"Please. I'm sorry, please, just leave me, I can't, He'll get me."

Brass hadn't quite reached empathy and still resided in "tell me what the hell I want to know" land, throwing a little reassurance just because he thought it might help matters

"Just tell us kid. It'll be ok, we'll look after you."

Dan looked into Grissom's eyes, and he knew the right thing to do.

"The old mill up on Highway 61, midnight tomorrow."

Bras nodded and rose from his chair, signalling for a couple of uniforms to take Dan to the holding cells.

Greg was full of excitement. He'd just heard they were on route to catching up with Stan Lynch and that they had the punk who beat Nick up. He had finished his shift and was headed to the hospital. He brewed up a flask of his Hawaiian blend coffee for Sara. She'd been with Nick since he'd come out of surgery and didn't look to be inclined to leave him anytime soon. He'd give her the coffee and pass on the news that Squires had rolled on his boss. When he arrived at the hospital he barely took time to notice that Nick was awake or that Warrick had arrived just in front of him. Nick looked more alert than he had 24 hours previously, but was haggard none the less. Greg burst through the door of the private room and greeted Sara with the news.

"Hey Sara did you hear Squires rolled over and gave up the meeting point for lynch tomorrow!"

Sara's eyes darted towards a very confused Nick. Who looked questioningly at her. He suddenly felt like he'd been left out of the loop and wasn't in the mood to wait around for too many answers.

"What? Who's Squires? They have Lynch? What the hells going on?"

Greg took on the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights as Sara hung her head a little and Nick tried to stare him out, though with only one good eye the result was a little comical. Greg chose not to laugh.

"What! I thought you knew. Grissom called. He told me you already knew. I thought you knew!"

Greg continued to ramble while Nick tried to catch Sara's eyes.

"Sar?"

"Nick, I just didn't want you to have to deal with this all right now." That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted the answers, he didn't want to be babied.

"They're bringing in lynch?"

"Nick…"

"Will one of you just answer me!"

It was warrick that stepped up to the plate.

"Yea man, they're goin' to pick him up tomorrow evening. The scumbag thinks he's goin' to meet Squires. He's the guy that beat you down man. They have a meeting place arranged to collect the drug money." Warrick hung his head a little lower, shrugging at Sara. What did she want him to do. Nick didn't need to be kept in the dark. Nicks voice was low and urgent when he broke the heavy silence that had fallen on the room.

"I need to see the doctor"

Warrick was immediately on his feet while Sara moved close to him and tried to take his hand. Nick pulled away, refusing to make eye contact with her.

"Shit, Nicky man, you ok bro!"

Nick was swinging his legs out of the bed, arms wrapped around his chest. He continued to push himself onto his shaky legs, stumbling slightly as his vision cleared. Despite protests from the other three people in the room he grabbed a hold of the intravenous line that had been placed in his arm. His eyes were burning. he was a man that wouldn't be turned.

"M' fine. Just need the doc to get my discharge papers. I'm going to be at the interview with Lynch. I'm goin' to nail the son of a bitch"