A/N: Hey my happy little readers...at least I hope you're happy. I'm sick but you still get this. You shouldn't have to suffer with me(though my characters will) for all of my Just Stay Alive readers, I'm working on the sequel again. It's gonna keep it's last name...Fated, I hope to start posting soon...You love me...I know...anyways...disclaimer, Don't own em, don't sue me!!!

Chapter 14

Greg barely got in the door to the lab when he was paged by Grissom. Being summoned to death row was how he thought of it. He didn't move for a moment gulping the lump in his throat. Nick stared at him sympathetically.

"Greg…" he put a hand on each shoulder, "good luck." He nodded nervously, dragging his feet the entire way.

"Greg, close the door please." No! Not that! Anything but that! I want witnesses! He complied and stood before the desk in a thick silence. Time ticked slowly.

"Greg, I'm sorry." He collapsed into the chair behind him.

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry. I was mad and I took it out on you guys. I shouldn't have done that. You were right." Greg was speechless. This was not what he'd been expecting. He was prepared for a little pink slip.

"Ummmm…" Grissom smiled.

"You were expecting to get fired weren't you." Greg blushed.

"Kind of."

"I thought about it, but then I cooled off and thought that you shouldn't be fired for saying what needed to be said."

"Heh heh, thanks." Greg smiled nervously.

"One thing though."

"What?"

"I thought I made you nervous?" Greg relaxed.

"You do. Archie can testify, I immediately hid in the bathroom and had a panic attack. I never want to have to do that again."

"Well I don't intend for there to be anymore need, but I trust you'll be there speaking your mind either way."

"Ahem…I'd rather not." Greg edged out of the room slowly sensing an end to the conversation. Gil called Sara and Nick in next. It was an awkward conversation for him.

--oo0oo—

Brass stared down at the weasel of a man with a cold hard stare. The man couldn't sit still or even look at a single object for more than three seconds. Definitely in need of a fix again. Perfect, let the man suffer, it'll wear him down and he'll start talking. He began to circle around Lionel Ricks slowly making every step heavier than usual, taking especially slow steps when he was out of the man's line of sight. It worked supremely. The man was jumping and twitching with anticipation and need.

"Lionel Ricks, you've been into drugs almost your entire life. You're pretty successful for a small time, out of the home, dealer. That was, until you hooked up with Eddie Willows. He couldn't stay out of the drugs could he? Used more than he sold, spent more than he earned. You two went into the red and stayed there."

"W-what do y-you really kn-know?" he stammered nervously.

"I know that you didn't start this addiction, I know you were forced into it." Brass pushed.

"Wh-what? H-how could y-you know a-anything?"

"We know everything about you. Once we caught you in the act with Mr. Brown it was pretty easy to get the warrants and open your life like a book. Your father was in the drug business, doing bigger deals than you do. He started using you as a test to make sure he had the mixes right before selling them when you were five. You didn't know there was anything wrong about taking drugs and when you did find out, you couldn't get off of them you were so addicted. Eventually you gave up and started your own drug dealing business."

"I…I…but…" Lionel was speechless.

"You've been wanting out for a long time, even checked yourself into rehab a few times. Each time though some old buddy of your father's would show up wouldn't they? They would always manage to get you out of there and dish you up a buffet of drugs. You realized you never had a chance so you quit trying."

"You're wrong!" Lionel shouted angrily. They couldn't say this! They couldn't know this!

"Your business deals started to get bigger, the shipments bigger. You became somewhat of a major supplier, you realized you needed an extra hand so you got a partner, Eddie Willows, a few years back." Brass iterated forcefully.

"Nononononono…" Lionel slapped his hands over his ears, chanting, anything to shut out the words.

"He didn't turn out to be such a good partner did he Lionel? He used more drugs than he sold. Unlike you however, he didn't want out of the business did he? Then he started losing the shipments, mostly police raids, but he sold them to other buyers didn't he Lionel? You lost your good reputation. You even wanted out, wanted to leave the business but you were in too deep. You were working for other suppliers now and if you tried to drop out they'd come after you, wouldn't they? You had to get money another way, you were desperate, so you started selling organs on the black market. Mostly homeless people disappearing, until you got Warrick, he was collateral you had to get rid of, so why not make money off of him too?" Lionel was staring silently ahead now, panicking.

"No." he whispered.

"Lionel, I want you to know the trouble you're into. We've got enough on drug possession alone for several years jail time, but then we've got you on three counts kidnapping, one attempted murder which may become murder. Oh and don't forget all the blood DNA we're finding in the wood frame, over 100 different donors, that'll get you pretty close to the needle if not all the way. If you help us, we can get your sentence reduced." As Brass spoke he removed the bags of evidence from a small box he'd brought in, mostly it was the drugs, a tourniquet, a filled syringe, bags of powder, and some un-smoked joints. They tantalized Lionel, he wanted them so bad, they were so close. He needed them.

"I-I c-can't…they'll come after m-me…but w-won't k-kill me…"

"Lionel, we can protect you, think about what's happening. We've got you on all of this, you will do time. But what about Eddie? If you don't tell us where he is, he'll get off scot free and you'll be serving his time. If you tell us what we need to know, he goes to jail, you get a reduced sentence and protection. It's a better deal then you'll ever get from them or from silence. You want out, everyone knows you want out. You never wanted the drugs in the first place. This is your chance. Take it." Brass pushed a legal pad with a pen on top towards Lionel.

"Y-you'll keep me s-safe?"

"No one will ever get to you." Brass assured.

"I'll h-have the h-help to get off the d-drugs?" he stuttered.

"All the help you need, but you have to tell us where they are if you want the help." Brass reiterated. Lionel's eyes jumped about as if looking for a lie then slowly, very slowly, he picked up the pen and began to write, the flood breaking free. The rescue team developed instantaneously.

--oo0oo—

Archie stood, leaning heavily against the wall, looking in at Warrick. He was exactly the same he'd been since they found him. Seven eighths dead. He wasn't improving, he wasn't getting worse, he remained the same. The heart monitor's visible pulse was slow, weak, and unsteady. The ventilator breathed deeply and slowly, with a steady rhythmic pace. His skin looked so pale, it was near transparent with a yellow tinge from the bruising. He'd lost so much blood, much of it already replaced, but the slightest of jostles and he bled once more.

His condition was about as fragile as it could get. The fever was keeping him weak. The doctors said that there were things that could be done to reduce it, but Warrick was so weak that the process would probably kill him. They had to wait for him to regain his strength, if he ever did regain it. Archie jumped when someone materialized next to him.

"So, is he any better?" Nick asked quietly handing Archie a refill of coffee.

"Bout the same, I suppose a little better. That's what the white-coats are saying at least. I can't see it though. They said to just be glad he made it through the night. Every night he lives though his chances improve apparently."

"If they say so, I'll try to believe." Nick stared through the window silently.

"So why are you here? Don't you have oodles of work to do?" Nick sighed heavily.

"Yeah, Griss sent me home. I'm sick again. My head is pounding and if anyone so much as mentions food I'm hurling again. I can barely handle coffee. Anyways, Griss saw me in the middle of a little dizzy spell and said not to come back." Archie grimaced.

"That's a bummer. The drugs are still in your system?"

"No, but I'm still able to get sick from them apparently. I'd had a headache before, but I didn't realize it was from the drugs until everything else hit. I think I'm off for a week, not really sure. He pulled me off the case at the same time Ricks finally broke. They're on their way to the location now. I think it was a warehouse or something about that size." Archie could see it written on his face. Nick wanted to be there, not here.

"They know where Catherine and Lindsey are?"

"Yep, 'pparently Ricks wanted out of the business anyways, this was the last straw I guess. Confessed to everything, gave the location, practically begged us to hide him away."

"They should just shoot him. It would be the kindest punishment, and more satisfying." Archie spat.

"I couldn't agree more." Nick gulped the last swig of his coffee and walked to the trash about fifteen feet away. Halfway back to Archie, who was watching him for lack of anything else more interesting, when suddenly Nick's world lurched upside down with a weird spin, his head pounding, his stomach threatening to retch.

He didn't hear Archie shout at him and barely noticed him crouched in front of him. He only knew that his knees had buckled beneath him, landing hard, barely managing to hold himself upright, hands pressing hard against the cold floor.

"I think….I….should….go home…" he gritted out taking deep breaths suddenly concerned that he was going to pass out. He could barely hear Archie over the roaring in his ears.

"I think you need checked out first. C'mon." he was barely staying awake as Archie lifted him with a struggle to his feet. He was dismayed at how heavily he had to lean on the smaller man for support. A few stumbled steps later he was being set down again, his back coming in contact with a wall.

"M'fine…" he mumbled quietly too tired for any more.

"You stay here Nick, I'm going to get a doctor. Don't go anywhere." Archie ordered.

"M'fin'…" Nick slurred once more barely looking conscious. Archie just shook his head and stood to find the doctor. Suddenly a high pitched screech, almost like a scream, split the silence. Archie stopped in his tracks, whipping around to face Warrick, and the flat line.

"Help! Somebody help!" he looked around frantically for doctors but this section was fairly isolated. There weren't many this severely injured.

"Warrick! Don't do this! Stay with us! C'mon man! Don't do this to us!"