Ties by SLynn

Summary: Kidnapping, competition and change. Lots of change. Takes place approximately three months after the end of 'Appreciation'. Sixth in the ill-named 'Happy Enough' series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OFC

Spoilers: Up to 'Nesting Dolls'

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

Chapter 21: Open Fire

Mia was busy straightening up the lab preparing for another night at work.

Not long after Detective Sullivan had stepped in, Amy and Hodges had stepped out to talk. Mia understood that they were both a part of a task force that she was not, but hoped this whole thing would be over soon.

It was frustrating not being as involved as she'd like to be.

With her back to the door she heard someone step inside. Turning she saw an unfamiliar woman standing near the counter.

"Can I help you?" Mia asked, assuming by the woman's attire and the weapon holster at her hip that she was a detective. Mia knew everyone well enough now by sight to know that she didn't work at the lab.

"Is Sanders on duty tonight?"

"Which one?" Mia asked back.

The woman hesitated for a moment before finally saying, "Greg."

"I don't think he is, at least, I haven't seen him yet. He's usually in by now."

"What about Stokes?"

"He's on tonight," Mia answered, "but he's out on assignment right now. Do you want me to page either of them?"

The woman looked as though she was considering it as she turned and scanned the lab, lingering briefly on the break room.

"No need," she finally said, turning quickly and moving down the hall.

Mia stared after her for only a second before getting back to work; not knowing that in a few minutes all hell was going to break loose.

Warrick had wasted no time getting dressed and heading over to Greg and Sara's house. On the way he'd tried several times to reach Greg on his cell phone and his home phone with no luck. Desperate, he'd even tried Dr. Jennings' office hoping he might just be at a late session but without success.

Greg had to be home.

Parking his car haphazardly behind Greg's in the driveway, Warrick made his way to the door, drawing his gun as he went.

"Greg," Warrick yelled as he banged on the door. "Open up!"

After trying the handle, only to find it locked, Warrick stepped around to the window and tried to get a look inside.

"Greg," he yelled again, once more at the door continuing to knock loudly as he did so.

There was still no answer and no sign of life inside the house.

Warrick moved back down the walkway, turned and faced the house in frustration unsure of what to do next.

"Is everything alright?"

Warrick turned, surprised by the voice.

"Mr. Brown?" Betty, Greg and Sara's nosey neighbor from across the street called out. She looked worried.

"Hi Betty," Warrick returned, putting his gun back in its holster as he crossed the street to talk to her. "You don't happen to know where Greg is, do you?"

"No," she said with a slight shake of her head. "No, I haven't seen him today, but with the hours he works… I'm sure he's going to work himself into an early grave."

"Let's hope not," Warrick said under his breath.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"No," Warrick lied, "I just needed to talk to him."

"Good," Betty said, looking relieved. "He's such a nice young man. I told that woman who stopped by earlier the same. He's so busy; everyone is always stopping by…"

"Woman?" Warrick interrupted. "What woman? When was this?"

"About an hour ago," Betty answered. "I don't know her name but I'd seen her before, I'm sure of it; tall with dark hair. She knocked a few times and then walked around back. She said she needed him for work, too. You really do work him too hard. It's not good for him, you know."

"Betty, do me a favor. Go inside and call the cops. Tell them CSI Brown asked you to call and direct them here. Immediately."

"What's…"

"Just do it," Warrick said, drawing his gun again as he rushed back across the street.

Bobby Dawson had only come in early that day to help catch up on the backlog. Like Mia, he wasn't a primary on the kidnapping case, but because of that very reason he was actually busier than normal. The lab only employed two full time ballistics experts, and Myers had his hands full so Bobby was picking up the slack.

He set about going through the current cases, deciding what to check first and what could wait; his normal tasks, typical of how he started every night.

Everything seemed perfectly normal until he happened to look up and across the hall at Mia. She looked frightened and confused. Bobby stared at her for half a second before he followed her eyes to what was causing her reaction.

Just as he turned to see for himself, there was shouting.

Charlie was standing in the doorway of the break room, gun drawn and shouting at whoever was inside.

It barely registered to Bobby what he was hearing. That the series of pops he heard next were in fact gunfire. More yells and someone's screams cut short.

It all happened so fast.

The back door was open.

Warrick pushed it open with his free hand and quickly took in the details of the master bedroom.

The bed was made. The bathroom and closet doors were open. The main door that led back to the rest of the house was closed. There were no clothes anywhere. It looked as if no one was home.

After ensuring that the room was indeed empty, Warrick proceeded down the hallway. The first room, the guest room, was also empty as was the bathroom that stood beside it. It wasn't until he opened the door to the spare room, the one both Greg and Sara jokingly called Greg's room, did he find who he was looking for.

Entering the room Warrick was sure he was too late.

Greg was there, sprawled out on the futon, entirely too still and pale to be alive. A blanket covered a good part of him and a pillow obscured his face.

Once again, Warrick put his gun away as he walked slowly across the room.

"Damn it," he whispered, kneeling down beside the prone figure.

Warrick reached out to remove the pillow, bracing himself for the worse. Just as he picked it up, Greg rolled onto his side with a low grunt.

Caught between relief and annoyance, Warrick tossed the pillow onto the floor.

"Greg," he said loudly as he took hold and shook him by the shoulder. "Greg, get up!"

There was no response.

"Greg," he repeated, shaking him harder this time and finally getting a reaction.

Greg slowly opened his eyes, blinking heavily and sitting up part of the way.

"What…"

Warrick's phone rang.

"Brown," he answered, stepping back to give Greg room to sit up.

"We got a call from a woman saying you needed assistance at…"

"Cancel it," Warrick interrupted. "Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Warrick confirmed. "Thanks."

Hanging up he turned back to Greg who was now sitting with his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes slowly.

"Greg," Warrick said, "you scared the hell out of me."

"I was sleeping," Greg managed through an enormous yawn.

"Sleeping," Warrick repeated, giving him a hard look. "What are you on?"

"Huh?"

"What are you on?" Warrick said again, louder this time.

"Nothing," Greg answered, perturbed.

"Don't give me that. You had to have taken something. I was banging at your door, yelling, calling your phone. You didn't hear any of that?"

"What? No. I was sleeping. I haven't…"

Greg stopped talking as he struggled to get to his feet without success. Sitting back down heavily, and in a hurry, Greg looked as surprised as Warrick did by the action.

As Greg regained his bearings, Warrick looked around the room and spotted the problem. Picking up a nearby pill bottle, he scanned the label and shook his head.

"Halcion?" he questioned. "I thought you weren't taking anything."

"Man, that's right. I forgot."

"Uh huh," Warrick said. "When did you take this?"

"When I got home," Greg said through another massive yawn. "About noon, I think."

"No wonder we couldn't wake you. I thought you stopped taking this stuff."

"I did," Greg argued. "Dr. Jennings' gave those to me. Short term, to help me sleep."

"What's going on with you?"

"Don't start," Greg said as he struggled to his feet once more. "I really don't need this right now."

"Don't need this," Warrick echoed.

"Exactly," Greg said, slowly making his way down the hall towards the bedroom. "I already answer to Sara and Catherine and Grissom and Ecklie and my parents. If you want in line, there's plenty of room behind Amy and Nick. And Dr. Jennings. And Dr. Tracey."

"I'm not trying to hassle you," Warrick said as he followed him. "Greg, this is serious."

"Oh, I know it."

Warrick's phone rang again, diverting his attention. Greg however just kept talking.

"I'm really sick of people thinking they know what's best for me. You know, by now I'm old enough to decide that for myself…"

"Greg…"

"So what if I took a sleeping pill. It's prescribed. I'm not doing anything illegal. Hell, I'm not even on the case anymore, I'm probably not even allowed back in the lab, so what does it matter, right?"

"Greg, shut up. I can't hear."

"I'm not going to shut up. This is my house, which… how did you get in anyway?"

Warrick wasn't listening; he was too busy on the phone.

"Did you just break in the front door or what?"

Warrick motioned with his head towards the back door, still intent on his phone conversation.

"Was it open?" Greg asked, distracted as he headed that way. "We don't even use this door."

"Greg," Warrick said, "we've got to go. Get dressed, now."

Greg momentarily thought to protest, but something about the serious look on Warrick's face stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked instead, shutting and locking the door he'd been examining.

"There's been a shooting at the lab."