A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity, including any musical lyrics that come up in the next chapter. This is the fourth in a series, following The Savior of the Broken, The Beaten and the Damned, and Will You Defeat Them? All four titles come from "The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance, which I also don't own. I also realize it's been over 4 years since my last post in Will You Defeat Them?, so there is a brief intro. This also arcs a little more back toward canon than the others have been. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review!

Prologue: Diner Tragedies

Previously…

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the casket. "We failed, and I'm so sorry. I love you." He placed his hand on the polished, stained black wood. "I'm gonna miss you so much." His voice cracked, but the tears still didn't fall. "Rest in peace, Sara." He backed away, walking over to where Nick was waiting for him. The veteran criminalist looked at Greg briefly before throwing an arm around his shoulders silently, pulling the younger man along with him. They left the cemetery, their physical bodies the only part of them intact and whole as their entire metaphysical and emotional worlds were shattered and irreversibly damaged.

"Don't, under any circumstances, call me Catalina," she began curtly. "Or Cathy, Cath, Cat, Kitty, Katie, Kate, Lee, Lina, Leeny, or any other variation of Catalina that you can come up with."

"Is there anythin' we can call you?" Nick snapped, annoyed.

"God forbid I hate variations of my first name."

"What the hell do you want us to call you?"

"People call me Amelia, Amie, Aimee, Mia, Lia, Michelle, Chelle, Mischa, Mitch, Elle, or Shelly. Take your fucking pick, Stokes."

"So, you know all of us, but we don't get to know you," Warrick said softly.

"You know all you need to know," Mia replied.

"You knew Sara," Greg said softly. Mia snapped her head to him along with everyone else in the room as he glanced over in her general direction. "You were at the funeral, standing beside Ecklie."

"Yes, I was." The other four bounced their gaze between Mia and Greg. "What's it to you, Sanders?"

"Nothing." Greg turned back to the TV, staring at the blank screen again.

"Because I am one. Now, let's not fight at the crime scene." Nick shook his head, aggravated.

"You're new here, so I don't think you understand what myself and the rest of the team is going through."

"Sí, entiendo. Sara fue mi amigo también, usted sabe."

"Really."

"Sí. Ella fue la única persona que trató de saberme."

"That's because you're a bitch."

"No cuando usted me sabe. Usted no me sabe."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Su elección."

"Do you possess the ability to be nice for two minutes?"

"Sí."

"Why don't you use it?"

"Porque yo le odio."

"Usted no me sabe," Nick mocked. Mia grumbled.

"Cállese."

"No."

"Hey, kids," Vartann said. "I've got to use the bathroom. Don't kill each other in foreign languages while I'm gone."

"Don't want you going off the deep end again."

"I don't think that's possible, though."

"Why not?" she asked, looking up at him. He smiled.

"Because I have you," he said. She rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Yeah, you would say that."

"I mean it. When you left, I realized how much I need you in my life. I love you more than words could ever say, so… I'm kinda hoping this helps." She looked confused as he dug into his pocket.

"Umm…" she began as he pulled out a box. He opened it, revealing a diamond ring on a white gold band, because he remembered how much she hated normal gold.

"Mia, will you marry me?"

And now…

After a long day topped off by Warrick's exoneration, the group decided to celebrate, so to speak, by going out to breakfast. As with most of their gatherings, the conversation eventually turned to good times and even better memories.

For some, anyway.

"Remember that time…" Greg began. "Before Sara was here."

"Damn, you're reachin' back, huh?" Nick said. The others chuckled.

"Yeah. Anyway, I was the new tech, and I'll never forget the first time you walked in to my lab."

Warrick shook his head, laughing. "Do we really need to go there?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Greg said. "Mia's never heard this story."

Warrick laughed. "It's not that good of one."

"Oh, trust me, it is. Anyway, so Warrick walks in, takes one look at me, and goes, 'where the hell did they dig you out of?'"

Mia laughs, looking at Warrick.

"And I say, 'I'm the new kid, from New York,'" Greg continued. "And he replies, 'well, welcome. Now, where are my results?'"

"Didn't want much to do with him, huh?" Mia asked, smirking.

"The tech we had before Greg was incompetent," Warrick explained. "You had to be short with him, or he'd keep you there forever."

Mia laughed.

"Actually, Greg'd keep you there forever too," Catherine remarked.

"The only difference is, Greg was competent," Nick said.

Greg shrugged. "I liked to put on a show with my results," he said in his defense.

Mia laughed. "Oh, if only I was around for that," she said. "You wouldn't have ever done that to me."

"Yeah, you'd eat me alive."

She shrugged, biting her lip in thought. Greg smirked back at her playfully.

"Speaking of Sara, remember the time when we were pulling that double," Nick began.

Greg and Mia snapped their attention to him.

"Which time?" Warrick retorted sarcastically. Everyone laughed.

"Yeah, exactly. No, but this was a few years ago, when she fell asleep on the couch while we were waiting for Trace."

"Oh, I remember that," Greg said. "She was so pissed when I woke her up."

"You're lucky she didn't kill you," Warrick replied.

"Nah, she wouldn't have killed me. She loved me. I was a little brother to her."

"Yeah," Nick said quietly. The conversation died down for a moment, and Grissom sighed.

"I have to get going," Grissom said. "I have an appointment a little later." He patted Warrick on the shoulder as he stood up. "I'll see you guys tonight."

"Okay, Griss."

"Have a good day," Mia said, smiling. Everyone bid Grissom goodbye as Greg stood up.

"I have to go," he said. "I have an early flight."

"And I've got to drop him off," Mia added as she followed suit.

"So, I'll see you guys when I get back."

"And I'll see you later tonight."

"Bye, guys," Nick said. After Catherine excused herself, Nick turned to Warrick. "Just you and me, Serpico. What'd you say we go grab a beer? My treat?"

Warrick shook his head. "I think the only thing I need right now is a shower," he replied.

Nick sighed.

"You should stay here," Warrick urged. "Get to know that waitress." He winked, and Nick laughed.

"Yeah, okay. I might do that." Nick smiled as Warrick stood up. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Thanks."

"I'll call you later, okay?"

Warrick nodded, shaking Nick's outstretched hand before leaving Nick to focus on the waitress.

Warrick walked to his car, climbing in behind the wheel. He sighed, taking a moment to relax before turning on the car. A knock on his passenger side window caught his attention, and he turned, finding Undersheriff McKeen standing beside his car. He groaned quietly to himself, rolling down the window.

"Warrick," McKeen said. "I wanted to join you for dinner."

"Sorry we missed," Warrick replied, rather insincerely.

"I just wanted to congratulate you in person. You sure made a believer out of me."

"Thanks."

"Look, uh… I don't want to fire you. I just need to know you're through running the streets on your own looking for bad guys."

Warrick sighed. "Look," he said softly. "I'm done being a rogue on the streets. But, there's, uh, one son of a bitch still out there, and I promise you, we're gonna catch him."

"Yeah," McKeen said. "Grissom taught you well."

"I like to think so."

"You never give up."

"No."

"That's what makes you a great CSI." McKeen stood up, and Warrick looked out the windshield, not prepared for what happened next.

The first shop ripped through his neck, shattering the driver's side window. Warrick moved his right hand up to the wound, holding it as he gasped. The second shot ripped into his chest, causing him to arch backward into the seat before he slumped forward against the steering column.

McKeen wiped his prints off the gun, tossing the gun into the car beside Warrick. Warrick blinked, knowing he was going to die and knowing that he there was nothing he could do to help his friends figure out who did it.

The first shot caused Nick to jump up, his hand flinching to his gun. He got up and moved toward the door as the diners inside panicked. "Stay low," Nick commanded, drawing his weapon as the second shot was heard. "LVPD, stay calm and stay here." He rushed outside, gun out, heading toward the alley where the shots came from.

He stumbled across Warrick's car and his friend slumped over in the front seat. His eyes went wide as he picked up his phone. He dialed 911 as he checked Warrick for a pulse.

"This is CSI Nick Stokes," he began. "I'm at Frank's Diner, and I have a male gunshot victim, shot twice, once in the neck and once in the chest. I need EMS right away."

He hung up, turning back to Warrick, who was still slumped over the steering wheel. Nick attempted to put pressure on the wounds, knowing it probably wouldn't help his already unconscious friend. "Don't die on me, man," Nick said uselessly. He put his fingers against Warrick's neck, checking for his pulse. Feeling nothing, he sighed, letting go of Warrick's body and backing away from the car. He took note of the blood all over his clothes before swallowing and letting his tears fall down his cheeks. He wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing his cell phone.

When the voice answered on the other end of the line, Nick could only choke out one word. "Grissom?"