XVIII- GOODBYE TO DREAMS
Greg and Sara had carefully sorted the various boots and shoes that had been confiscated from the crime scene. They had decided to print the boots first - beginning with the Kodiaks, size 11 ½ they had found in the second geo-home they had searched. From there, they would print the running shoes and then start comparing prints to what they had been able to find at the crime scenes.
Warrick had retrieved the fingerprints and palm prints of the men taken into custody from the commune, and was currently comparing them against the fingerprints they had pulled from the crime scenes. After he looked for matches, he was going to run the prints through APHIS as well, and see if any of the men had their prints on file for past indiscretions.
Nick had taken the various rifles and guns to the ballistics lab to determine if any of the weapons had been used in the Magical murders. Sara had teased him good naturedly about his need to go and shoot guns, muttering under her breath about boys being boys as he wandered down the hallway, box in tow.
Grissom, Catherine and Brass were talking to the men - one at a time - about the desert murders. Since Katie was already an eyewitness, and basically had been able to place each man brought to the station at the scene of the crime, the basic intent was to try to get them to roll on each other in regards to the Lifestyles and Magical murders. Brass was going to try to use leniency as the carrot to get them to turn against the others.
In the lounge room, Katie slumped wearily on the floor beside Nancy, her head resting on the soft vinyl beside her sisters sleeping form. Warrick's parting words to her as he had left the break room were playing over and over in her mind, and she found herself wondering if she was safe.
She had imagined they were safe when they had moved to commune. She and Scotty, despite their ages, had lived pretty sheltered lives. Her father and step-mother were both respected members of their small community, religious leaders in their church, and Katie and her siblings had lived in an almost insular world where nothing bad ever happened.
Of course, her real mother had died, but that had been long ago when Katie was just a small child herself. To be quite honest, she didn't remember her real mother that much and therefore hadn't let her absence color her stunningly happy childhood. She and Scotty had both loved Mary dearly, and had come to love her as a mother. When their parents had been killed, they had been thrown to the wolves, as it were. Their church had rallied around them, trying to support them and help them through their grief, but it had all been too much.
Everything and every person in their small community was a constant reminder of their loss, and one day Scotty and Katie had agreed they needed to escape the memories and start anew somewhere else. They had both agreed that keeping their small family together was more important than anything else, and they wanted to see Nancy smile again.
They had closed out their parents affairs and followed Scotty's friend to the commune. At first, everything had been wonderful. Papa Enoch and Rebakah had welcomed them with open arms, even though Scotty's friend was no longer there and had left no forwarding address. Katie had felt a real sense of family, and she and Scotty had agreed to stay for a little while until they got their feet under them. That little while had turned into two years. Katie was stunned when she thought about it. Two years!
And in those two years, she and Scotty had just blithely done whatever was expected of them, no questions asked. Within six months of living with Enoch and the others, they had turned over all the money they had made on the sale of their father's house, along with the money left them in their parents wills. Katie and Nancy were calling Enoch 'Papa Enoch' as if it was the most natural ting in the world. The girls attended daily bible studies and prayer meetings with the woman, and the men had their own separate prayer meetings. Three times a week, everyone would gather together and Papa Enoch would deliver a blistering sermon on the word of God.
Katie realized now she had been living in a bubble. The things that had bothered her about the commune had been pushed to the side, not thought about. She had fooled herself into thinking she was happy.
The last six months had been different though. The tone of the commune started changing. All of a sudden, Enoch's sermons changed from discussions on God's love to discussions on God's vengeance. Enoch started planting seeds of hatred against non-believers, Jewish people, homosexuals, minorities - it never ended. He began claiming that they were God's army and that they would change the world and purify it for God, ridding it of the 'undesirables'.
Scotty had grown increasingly uncomfortable and spoke with Katie several times about leaving, but she had put him off over and over again, saying the move would be too hard on Nancy; Enoch would never act on what he was saying - basically, any excuse she could come up with. She had finally changed her mind about leaving when Scotty had whispered to her one evening that he was scared.
When she had asked him why he was scared, he had told her the men were planning something - they were going to attack a gay club downtown, and they wanted Scotty to join them. Enoch had decided the time was right for the "Hands of Righteousness" - a name he had given the movement - to start cleansing the city for God.
Katie hadn't really believed the men would take it that far, and had told Scotty so, but Scotty had disagreed. He thought they had killed his friend.
Katie had scoffed when Scotty told her this, but he had been insistent.
"I overheard something I wasn't supposed to hear the other day," he had stated sadly. "Enoch and Michael were talking about us, and Michael said 'If Scotty really knew what we did to Eric, he wouldn't be here.' And Aaron had responded. 'Fucking fag. He deserved it for lying to us.'" Katie had been shocked at this, but Scotty had confirmed for her that Eric was - indeed - gay.
Sitting in the lounge room, Katie remembered everything. She remembered agreeing with Scotty that they would leave. Even though Scotty didn't come out and admit it, she had a feeling that her brother may also be gay, and she knew if that was the case, Enoch would banish him at the very least. She became scared for the first time in a long time.
Rebekah had caught her packing some items and had confronted her, forcing Katie to admit they had decided to move on. While Rebekah had expressed understanding at the time, she had gone immediately to Enoch and told him. That night, Enoch had sent Scotty on an errand into town with Michael, Aaron, Jake, Matt and Robert. They had returned without Scotty. And Enoch had told Katie the next day that her brother had been banished from the commune, and would not be returning. And that Katie and Nancy would not be leaving.
Katie had spent the rest of the day in a state of shock. She realized now that she had known - at some elemental level - that her brother was dead, but she had refused to believe it. A couple nights later, she had seen several of the men who had taken Scotty leave the commune on foot, and she had surreptitiously followed them through the desert, hoping against hope they would lead her to Scotty. Instead, she had stumbled upon them torturing the young couple in the desert. She had watched in horror, biting her knuckles to keep from screaming, as Matt had carved the skin of the young man's hands; as they tied the girl to a stake, a garrote around her slim neck. She had finally backed away through the low scrub on her hands and knees, running back to the farmhouse as soon as she felt she was far enough away to stand without being seen.
She had snuck into Enoch's private study, grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911, stuttering something softly before chickening out and hanging up. She knew if they caught her, she was dead, and then who would take care of Nancy? So she had hung up, snuck into her room, and when Enoch looked at her strangely the next morning she had said she was missing Scotty. But she knew she needed to get away.
When the criminalists had arrived with the police late the night after the murders, Katie had been alternately petrified and relieved. She had cried when she finally learned the truth about Scotty, but it hadn't really surprised her. And now, she was away. Free from the commune. And she vowed as she sat in the small break room, crying into the vinyl love seat as she sat on the floor beside her sleeping sister, that she would see Enoch and his men rot for what they had done to Scotty.
* * * * *
Grissom sighed with disgust as he trooped angrily down the hallway, Catherine and Grissom in tow. He strode into the lab were the majority of his team were working, looking balefully at the array of boots and shoes before him.
"Find anything?" his voice was angry and demanding.
Warrick smiled in commiseration at Grissom. "I take it the interviews aren't going well."
"They aren't going at all." Brass sighed. "The men have declined to discuss anything with us, all demanding to see a lawyer."
Grissom walked over to Greg, looking at the shoe prints the young man was comparing. "You're looking pale, Greg. How are you feeling?
Greg sighed in disgust. "I wish people would quit asking me that. I slept almost the entire time you guys were at the commune. I feel okay." he tried to keep his voice calm, but the underlying anger was hard to disguise. Grissom looked at the back of Greg's head for a minute, before squeezing the young man's shoulder.
"I won't ask again if it bothers you so much. We're just concerned."
"I know. I'm sorry.' Greg sighed, before perking up and handing Grissom the prints. "We've found the Kodiaks that were worn at Lifestyles and the desert murders - even managed to scrape some dried blood from the soles, along with some dirt. I'll analyze both later. Sara's got a couple eyeball hits on another pair of boots and some sneakers from the desert murder."
Grissom smiled grimly. "So far so good. Warrick?"
Warrick grinned. "I've got three hits so far on the prints. Michael Drake was at Lifestyles - palm print on one of the brushes, fingerprint from the hate crime car. We've also got fingerprint verifications from Jake Green - desert and Magikal - and Matthew March, Lifestyles and inside the door handle of the car. I'm just working on Robert Cavanaugh's prints now."
"So, what do we still need to do?" Grissom waited for his team to respond, watching as the three young CSIs kept working even as they discussed the evidence.
Sara supplied, "We need someone to match the brochure from the desert murders to one of the printers we confiscated, assuming one of the printers printed it. And Nick's in ballistics. We don't know what he's found yet."
"I'll tell you what I've found." Nick chose that moment to walk into the lab. "I've found the murder weapons."
* * * * *
Katie woke with a start, stifling a sudden scream as she felt a hand gently shake her shoulder.
"Katie. Sorry to wake you." Warrick stepped back quickly, removing his hand, his face carefully neutral. "It's 7:30, and our shift here is almost over. Grissom and Brass would like to talk to you again, and we need to know where we can find you. We'll be needing to keep in touch until this case is closed."
Katie stood and sleepily rubbed her eyes. "I don't - I'm not - huh? I can't go back to the commune."
"No. No you can't. Do you know anyone in Las Vegas - perhaps a friend or acquaintance you can stay with?"
Katie shook her head mutely, shoulders dropping in misery.
Warrick sighed. "I'll sit here in case Nancy wakes up. You go talk to Grissom. Maybe he can help you."
* * * * *
Nick, Sara and Greg were relieved to get home. Greg, despite his sharp words about feeling fine mere hours ago, was once again exhausted. Dr. Robbins had called about an hour before shift was over, eliciting promises from every that they would be attending his niece's 'Welcome to Vegas' party, and Greg sighed when he realized he would be getting up in less than four hours to go with Sara and Nick.
Nick and Sara had groggily muttered goodnight to him, stumbling down the hallway into their bedroom, propping each other up as they walked. Greg had watched them disappear and sighed softly, picking up D-NA as she wrapped her warm body around his feet, purring loudly.
"Hey, girl. Looks like it's just you and me." He nuzzled his nose into her soft fur, closing his eyes against the sudden hot sting of tears. He realized with some surprise that he was lonely - bone deep, soul searchingly lonely. Nick and Sara had stumbled tiredly into their bedroom, barely speaking, but at least they had stumbled together.
Entering his bedroom, Greg collapsed on the bed and shut his eyes. The stitches in his chest were really bothering him lately, so itchy he wanted to rip them out and be done with it. Tomorrow he had an afternoon appointment with Dr. Jansen, and he didn't want to go to that either. He didn't want to have to think about his heart at all.
D-NA curled up on his chest, little paws softly kneading his shoulder, and Greg stroked her absently. He tried to blank his mind to the sudden emptiness, but he couldn't do it. He thought back to a time, not too long ago, when his whole life had stretched before him. He had been whole - his heart had beat without the constant monitoring of a damn machine - he had felt free to flirt and tease, and had been confident in his future.
With the careless action of one guy, that had all changed for Greg. Oscar, by drugging him and damaging his heart, had ripped Greg's dreams for his future away. By rights, Greg was normally an optimistic guy - growing up a foster-child meant he had to be - either be optimistic or just give up, and Greg wasn't a quitter. He had always seen himself in the future as an active man, a beautiful wife who adored him as much as he adored her, a long life ahead when he would finally have a family and eventually, grand- children to bounce on his knee.
Right now, that dream seemed far away. He had an implant in his chest to make his heart beat properly. If the implant didn't work, he was a prime candidate for a heart attack. This condition was permanent. Sure, his friends had told him nothing had changed, that he was still the same Greg - but he wasn't. And he wasn't new and improved either.
There were so many things he had to be aware of with his condition - electrical impulses, remote control cars, magnetic fields; even going through security gates at airports was no longer safe for him. Dr. Mellows had told him he needed to be aware - especially for the first few months - of his heart beat. The minute it started getting too elevated meant the defibrillator could kick in and shock it back to a normal rate. Having experienced a couple of shocks already, Greg didn't relish the thought of having to spend the rest of his life waiting for more.
He thought about his dream - the deep longing he felt for a family of his own - and couldn't imagine ever meeting anyone who would want to take him on with his condition. Who would want a man who couldn't chase after his own children, play football with his sons, or have wild heart-pounding sex with his wife whenever the mood hit? Greg snorted at that thought. He doubted he'd ever have sex again.
For some reason, that thought brought Alli to mind. Dr. Robbins niece was cute, and under normal circumstances, Greg might have convinced himself to pursue her. Normally, he liked tall brunettes like Sara, but Alli's petite stature and snapping hazel eyes had been strangely appealing to him. And he had really enjoyed their brief conversation earlier that evening in the lab. There was just something about her - something he would never allow himself to explore. By the time the barbeque at Robbins rolled around, Greg was sure Alli would know all about his problems, so the question was moot anyway. She wouldn't want him when she learned he didn't have a heart.
Burying his face in D-NAs fur, allowing his tears to dampen her small body, Greg fell asleep thinking of Alli and all the other things he'd never have.
* * * * *
Nancy smiled happily at Warrick as he made the young girl a breakfast of bacon and eggs. When Grissom and Brass had been unable to come up with a place for Katie and Nancy to go to, Warrick had suggested they come with him.
Grissom had looked at him in surprise, ready to negate the idea, but Warrick had steamrollered over his objections.
"Katie's our only eye-witness," he had stated, "and we already know what these people are capable of. If we can't get her and Nancy into a safe house, we have to protect them ourselves. The people at the commune could be looking for her. At least if she's with me, they'll be safe. No one there would suspect she'd ever have the nerve to move in with me." Warrick had smiled grimly when he said this, but Grissom had seen the reasoning behind it and reluctantly agreed. Brass had assured Warrick that he would work on finding a safe house for Katie and her sister, and Warrick had simply shrugged. "Whatever."
Getting Katie to agree to come with him had been surprisingly easy. For one thing, Nancy was awake now and had thrown herself at Warrick excitedly when she heard his proposal. Katie had been circumspect about the whole situation, and hadn't put up a fuss. She needed someplace where she and Nancy would be safe, she had no money, she had no friends, and for whatever reason this nice man - who had every reason to hate her for what she had witnessed and hadn't stopped - had stepped into the roll of protector. Katie was grateful.
And so, they had left for Warrick's place. Warrick had made sure no one from the commune was in the waiting area or parking lot before he let them leave the building, and he had driven them straight to his place.
He had quickly changed the sheets in his bedroom, insisting Katie and Nancy would sleep there and he would sleep on the sofa, and had gently directed Katie to go to sleep.
And now, here he was making breakfast for Nancy, who chattered happily non- stop about a myriad of things. Warrick nodded and responded at the breaks in the rather one-sided conversation, and completely forgot that he shouldn't be happy on the anniversary of Delia's death.
_____
Author's note: Okay - next chapter, more personal stuff and the barbeque. This chapter just got too long to put it in. But it's mostly written, and I think it's gonna be an interesting chapter! Please R & R - and thanks for the heads-up DumbOldDork - a fixed my error and all I can say is forgive the mind-gap.
Greg and Sara had carefully sorted the various boots and shoes that had been confiscated from the crime scene. They had decided to print the boots first - beginning with the Kodiaks, size 11 ½ they had found in the second geo-home they had searched. From there, they would print the running shoes and then start comparing prints to what they had been able to find at the crime scenes.
Warrick had retrieved the fingerprints and palm prints of the men taken into custody from the commune, and was currently comparing them against the fingerprints they had pulled from the crime scenes. After he looked for matches, he was going to run the prints through APHIS as well, and see if any of the men had their prints on file for past indiscretions.
Nick had taken the various rifles and guns to the ballistics lab to determine if any of the weapons had been used in the Magical murders. Sara had teased him good naturedly about his need to go and shoot guns, muttering under her breath about boys being boys as he wandered down the hallway, box in tow.
Grissom, Catherine and Brass were talking to the men - one at a time - about the desert murders. Since Katie was already an eyewitness, and basically had been able to place each man brought to the station at the scene of the crime, the basic intent was to try to get them to roll on each other in regards to the Lifestyles and Magical murders. Brass was going to try to use leniency as the carrot to get them to turn against the others.
In the lounge room, Katie slumped wearily on the floor beside Nancy, her head resting on the soft vinyl beside her sisters sleeping form. Warrick's parting words to her as he had left the break room were playing over and over in her mind, and she found herself wondering if she was safe.
She had imagined they were safe when they had moved to commune. She and Scotty, despite their ages, had lived pretty sheltered lives. Her father and step-mother were both respected members of their small community, religious leaders in their church, and Katie and her siblings had lived in an almost insular world where nothing bad ever happened.
Of course, her real mother had died, but that had been long ago when Katie was just a small child herself. To be quite honest, she didn't remember her real mother that much and therefore hadn't let her absence color her stunningly happy childhood. She and Scotty had both loved Mary dearly, and had come to love her as a mother. When their parents had been killed, they had been thrown to the wolves, as it were. Their church had rallied around them, trying to support them and help them through their grief, but it had all been too much.
Everything and every person in their small community was a constant reminder of their loss, and one day Scotty and Katie had agreed they needed to escape the memories and start anew somewhere else. They had both agreed that keeping their small family together was more important than anything else, and they wanted to see Nancy smile again.
They had closed out their parents affairs and followed Scotty's friend to the commune. At first, everything had been wonderful. Papa Enoch and Rebakah had welcomed them with open arms, even though Scotty's friend was no longer there and had left no forwarding address. Katie had felt a real sense of family, and she and Scotty had agreed to stay for a little while until they got their feet under them. That little while had turned into two years. Katie was stunned when she thought about it. Two years!
And in those two years, she and Scotty had just blithely done whatever was expected of them, no questions asked. Within six months of living with Enoch and the others, they had turned over all the money they had made on the sale of their father's house, along with the money left them in their parents wills. Katie and Nancy were calling Enoch 'Papa Enoch' as if it was the most natural ting in the world. The girls attended daily bible studies and prayer meetings with the woman, and the men had their own separate prayer meetings. Three times a week, everyone would gather together and Papa Enoch would deliver a blistering sermon on the word of God.
Katie realized now she had been living in a bubble. The things that had bothered her about the commune had been pushed to the side, not thought about. She had fooled herself into thinking she was happy.
The last six months had been different though. The tone of the commune started changing. All of a sudden, Enoch's sermons changed from discussions on God's love to discussions on God's vengeance. Enoch started planting seeds of hatred against non-believers, Jewish people, homosexuals, minorities - it never ended. He began claiming that they were God's army and that they would change the world and purify it for God, ridding it of the 'undesirables'.
Scotty had grown increasingly uncomfortable and spoke with Katie several times about leaving, but she had put him off over and over again, saying the move would be too hard on Nancy; Enoch would never act on what he was saying - basically, any excuse she could come up with. She had finally changed her mind about leaving when Scotty had whispered to her one evening that he was scared.
When she had asked him why he was scared, he had told her the men were planning something - they were going to attack a gay club downtown, and they wanted Scotty to join them. Enoch had decided the time was right for the "Hands of Righteousness" - a name he had given the movement - to start cleansing the city for God.
Katie hadn't really believed the men would take it that far, and had told Scotty so, but Scotty had disagreed. He thought they had killed his friend.
Katie had scoffed when Scotty told her this, but he had been insistent.
"I overheard something I wasn't supposed to hear the other day," he had stated sadly. "Enoch and Michael were talking about us, and Michael said 'If Scotty really knew what we did to Eric, he wouldn't be here.' And Aaron had responded. 'Fucking fag. He deserved it for lying to us.'" Katie had been shocked at this, but Scotty had confirmed for her that Eric was - indeed - gay.
Sitting in the lounge room, Katie remembered everything. She remembered agreeing with Scotty that they would leave. Even though Scotty didn't come out and admit it, she had a feeling that her brother may also be gay, and she knew if that was the case, Enoch would banish him at the very least. She became scared for the first time in a long time.
Rebekah had caught her packing some items and had confronted her, forcing Katie to admit they had decided to move on. While Rebekah had expressed understanding at the time, she had gone immediately to Enoch and told him. That night, Enoch had sent Scotty on an errand into town with Michael, Aaron, Jake, Matt and Robert. They had returned without Scotty. And Enoch had told Katie the next day that her brother had been banished from the commune, and would not be returning. And that Katie and Nancy would not be leaving.
Katie had spent the rest of the day in a state of shock. She realized now that she had known - at some elemental level - that her brother was dead, but she had refused to believe it. A couple nights later, she had seen several of the men who had taken Scotty leave the commune on foot, and she had surreptitiously followed them through the desert, hoping against hope they would lead her to Scotty. Instead, she had stumbled upon them torturing the young couple in the desert. She had watched in horror, biting her knuckles to keep from screaming, as Matt had carved the skin of the young man's hands; as they tied the girl to a stake, a garrote around her slim neck. She had finally backed away through the low scrub on her hands and knees, running back to the farmhouse as soon as she felt she was far enough away to stand without being seen.
She had snuck into Enoch's private study, grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911, stuttering something softly before chickening out and hanging up. She knew if they caught her, she was dead, and then who would take care of Nancy? So she had hung up, snuck into her room, and when Enoch looked at her strangely the next morning she had said she was missing Scotty. But she knew she needed to get away.
When the criminalists had arrived with the police late the night after the murders, Katie had been alternately petrified and relieved. She had cried when she finally learned the truth about Scotty, but it hadn't really surprised her. And now, she was away. Free from the commune. And she vowed as she sat in the small break room, crying into the vinyl love seat as she sat on the floor beside her sleeping sister, that she would see Enoch and his men rot for what they had done to Scotty.
* * * * *
Grissom sighed with disgust as he trooped angrily down the hallway, Catherine and Grissom in tow. He strode into the lab were the majority of his team were working, looking balefully at the array of boots and shoes before him.
"Find anything?" his voice was angry and demanding.
Warrick smiled in commiseration at Grissom. "I take it the interviews aren't going well."
"They aren't going at all." Brass sighed. "The men have declined to discuss anything with us, all demanding to see a lawyer."
Grissom walked over to Greg, looking at the shoe prints the young man was comparing. "You're looking pale, Greg. How are you feeling?
Greg sighed in disgust. "I wish people would quit asking me that. I slept almost the entire time you guys were at the commune. I feel okay." he tried to keep his voice calm, but the underlying anger was hard to disguise. Grissom looked at the back of Greg's head for a minute, before squeezing the young man's shoulder.
"I won't ask again if it bothers you so much. We're just concerned."
"I know. I'm sorry.' Greg sighed, before perking up and handing Grissom the prints. "We've found the Kodiaks that were worn at Lifestyles and the desert murders - even managed to scrape some dried blood from the soles, along with some dirt. I'll analyze both later. Sara's got a couple eyeball hits on another pair of boots and some sneakers from the desert murder."
Grissom smiled grimly. "So far so good. Warrick?"
Warrick grinned. "I've got three hits so far on the prints. Michael Drake was at Lifestyles - palm print on one of the brushes, fingerprint from the hate crime car. We've also got fingerprint verifications from Jake Green - desert and Magikal - and Matthew March, Lifestyles and inside the door handle of the car. I'm just working on Robert Cavanaugh's prints now."
"So, what do we still need to do?" Grissom waited for his team to respond, watching as the three young CSIs kept working even as they discussed the evidence.
Sara supplied, "We need someone to match the brochure from the desert murders to one of the printers we confiscated, assuming one of the printers printed it. And Nick's in ballistics. We don't know what he's found yet."
"I'll tell you what I've found." Nick chose that moment to walk into the lab. "I've found the murder weapons."
* * * * *
Katie woke with a start, stifling a sudden scream as she felt a hand gently shake her shoulder.
"Katie. Sorry to wake you." Warrick stepped back quickly, removing his hand, his face carefully neutral. "It's 7:30, and our shift here is almost over. Grissom and Brass would like to talk to you again, and we need to know where we can find you. We'll be needing to keep in touch until this case is closed."
Katie stood and sleepily rubbed her eyes. "I don't - I'm not - huh? I can't go back to the commune."
"No. No you can't. Do you know anyone in Las Vegas - perhaps a friend or acquaintance you can stay with?"
Katie shook her head mutely, shoulders dropping in misery.
Warrick sighed. "I'll sit here in case Nancy wakes up. You go talk to Grissom. Maybe he can help you."
* * * * *
Nick, Sara and Greg were relieved to get home. Greg, despite his sharp words about feeling fine mere hours ago, was once again exhausted. Dr. Robbins had called about an hour before shift was over, eliciting promises from every that they would be attending his niece's 'Welcome to Vegas' party, and Greg sighed when he realized he would be getting up in less than four hours to go with Sara and Nick.
Nick and Sara had groggily muttered goodnight to him, stumbling down the hallway into their bedroom, propping each other up as they walked. Greg had watched them disappear and sighed softly, picking up D-NA as she wrapped her warm body around his feet, purring loudly.
"Hey, girl. Looks like it's just you and me." He nuzzled his nose into her soft fur, closing his eyes against the sudden hot sting of tears. He realized with some surprise that he was lonely - bone deep, soul searchingly lonely. Nick and Sara had stumbled tiredly into their bedroom, barely speaking, but at least they had stumbled together.
Entering his bedroom, Greg collapsed on the bed and shut his eyes. The stitches in his chest were really bothering him lately, so itchy he wanted to rip them out and be done with it. Tomorrow he had an afternoon appointment with Dr. Jansen, and he didn't want to go to that either. He didn't want to have to think about his heart at all.
D-NA curled up on his chest, little paws softly kneading his shoulder, and Greg stroked her absently. He tried to blank his mind to the sudden emptiness, but he couldn't do it. He thought back to a time, not too long ago, when his whole life had stretched before him. He had been whole - his heart had beat without the constant monitoring of a damn machine - he had felt free to flirt and tease, and had been confident in his future.
With the careless action of one guy, that had all changed for Greg. Oscar, by drugging him and damaging his heart, had ripped Greg's dreams for his future away. By rights, Greg was normally an optimistic guy - growing up a foster-child meant he had to be - either be optimistic or just give up, and Greg wasn't a quitter. He had always seen himself in the future as an active man, a beautiful wife who adored him as much as he adored her, a long life ahead when he would finally have a family and eventually, grand- children to bounce on his knee.
Right now, that dream seemed far away. He had an implant in his chest to make his heart beat properly. If the implant didn't work, he was a prime candidate for a heart attack. This condition was permanent. Sure, his friends had told him nothing had changed, that he was still the same Greg - but he wasn't. And he wasn't new and improved either.
There were so many things he had to be aware of with his condition - electrical impulses, remote control cars, magnetic fields; even going through security gates at airports was no longer safe for him. Dr. Mellows had told him he needed to be aware - especially for the first few months - of his heart beat. The minute it started getting too elevated meant the defibrillator could kick in and shock it back to a normal rate. Having experienced a couple of shocks already, Greg didn't relish the thought of having to spend the rest of his life waiting for more.
He thought about his dream - the deep longing he felt for a family of his own - and couldn't imagine ever meeting anyone who would want to take him on with his condition. Who would want a man who couldn't chase after his own children, play football with his sons, or have wild heart-pounding sex with his wife whenever the mood hit? Greg snorted at that thought. He doubted he'd ever have sex again.
For some reason, that thought brought Alli to mind. Dr. Robbins niece was cute, and under normal circumstances, Greg might have convinced himself to pursue her. Normally, he liked tall brunettes like Sara, but Alli's petite stature and snapping hazel eyes had been strangely appealing to him. And he had really enjoyed their brief conversation earlier that evening in the lab. There was just something about her - something he would never allow himself to explore. By the time the barbeque at Robbins rolled around, Greg was sure Alli would know all about his problems, so the question was moot anyway. She wouldn't want him when she learned he didn't have a heart.
Burying his face in D-NAs fur, allowing his tears to dampen her small body, Greg fell asleep thinking of Alli and all the other things he'd never have.
* * * * *
Nancy smiled happily at Warrick as he made the young girl a breakfast of bacon and eggs. When Grissom and Brass had been unable to come up with a place for Katie and Nancy to go to, Warrick had suggested they come with him.
Grissom had looked at him in surprise, ready to negate the idea, but Warrick had steamrollered over his objections.
"Katie's our only eye-witness," he had stated, "and we already know what these people are capable of. If we can't get her and Nancy into a safe house, we have to protect them ourselves. The people at the commune could be looking for her. At least if she's with me, they'll be safe. No one there would suspect she'd ever have the nerve to move in with me." Warrick had smiled grimly when he said this, but Grissom had seen the reasoning behind it and reluctantly agreed. Brass had assured Warrick that he would work on finding a safe house for Katie and her sister, and Warrick had simply shrugged. "Whatever."
Getting Katie to agree to come with him had been surprisingly easy. For one thing, Nancy was awake now and had thrown herself at Warrick excitedly when she heard his proposal. Katie had been circumspect about the whole situation, and hadn't put up a fuss. She needed someplace where she and Nancy would be safe, she had no money, she had no friends, and for whatever reason this nice man - who had every reason to hate her for what she had witnessed and hadn't stopped - had stepped into the roll of protector. Katie was grateful.
And so, they had left for Warrick's place. Warrick had made sure no one from the commune was in the waiting area or parking lot before he let them leave the building, and he had driven them straight to his place.
He had quickly changed the sheets in his bedroom, insisting Katie and Nancy would sleep there and he would sleep on the sofa, and had gently directed Katie to go to sleep.
And now, here he was making breakfast for Nancy, who chattered happily non- stop about a myriad of things. Warrick nodded and responded at the breaks in the rather one-sided conversation, and completely forgot that he shouldn't be happy on the anniversary of Delia's death.
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Author's note: Okay - next chapter, more personal stuff and the barbeque. This chapter just got too long to put it in. But it's mostly written, and I think it's gonna be an interesting chapter! Please R & R - and thanks for the heads-up DumbOldDork - a fixed my error and all I can say is forgive the mind-gap.