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Warrick

Warrick drifted down the bustling hall of the lab with quiet deliberation. He peered through the individual glass walls, when a thought struck him and he followed on a hunch.

He remembered Sara telling him once she found the Drying Room peaceful. He craned open the door, sighing slightly when he noticed her hunched form in the dim interior, leant between two drying racks. She was staring blankly at some void on the opposite wall, and didn't blink when he quietly closed the door behind him, interrupting her retreat.

"You all right, girl?" he questioned gently, standing beside pone rack of clothing.

Sara glanced him briefly, shrugging noncommittally. "Sure", she muttered vaguely.

He ducked his head, blowing out a deep breath, and placed one hand one the cool steel frame beside him.

"You know, I haven't slept since it happened", he started casually, meeting his eyes and looking away. "Not properly. First night I just knocked myself out with a good old bottle of Jack D, but since then I haven't been able to touch a bottle. I just... work. Been here a shift already, even though Grissom said we didn't have to come in. I keep wondering how it would have gone if I reacted differently. If I moved before Nick did; if I got out my gun in time. None of them work very well. I either see him dead, or me, or you, and as hard as I try, I can't find a way that would have made things better".

He gazed at her again, allowing her to see the raw pain behind his eyes. He wanted her to understand she wasn't the only one going through this, that he was wracked with guilt too. But he also wanted to share the burden, to release some of the pain with someone who would understand. Call it survivor's solidarity. "Sara, at the end of the day, there's nothing we could have done to change it. Not really. Nick knew what he was doing. I think he knew that... if one of us had to die, he was going to make sure it was him and not us. He finally got to be the hero he wanted to be."

Sara blinked rapidly, nodding slightly. Somehow, she managed to smile at him wanly. "Thanks, Warrick".

He shrugged. "Anytime you wanna talk, just let me know. The others might not get it, but I do and you know that."

She nodded, swallowing hoarsely. "Yeah". She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand hastily. "Who's taking the case?"

Warrick glanced at her, wondering if she'd agree with the unanimous decision or not. She and Catherine had always had their differences. "Cath said she'd do it".

Sara straightened, nodding again, seemingly satisfied. "Good".

"Yeah, everyone else was happy with it. I kind of thought Griss would want it though", he mused absently.

Her eyes looked glazed and she glanced at something over his shoulder. "Yeah", she said quietly. "Me too".

He shrugged it off. "But you know Grissom. He hasn't shown an ounce of emotion since the night Nick died".

Sara scoffed softly. "Yeah".

Warrick levelled her with a look. He hadn't missed their interaction, or careful lack to speak of, in the breakroom. "So something going on between you two?"

Sara narrowed her eyes slightly. "What do you mean?"

Warrick had to roll his eyes. He really did. Did she think they were all oblivious to her and Grissom's constant displays?

"Ignoring the tension that went on between you two months before the promotion that I think we all know had nothing to do with it, you were both packing some pretty serious vibes in there, Sara".

Sara's spine grew rigid, and her eyes went coldly blank. He realised mentioning the promotion and then Grissom had destroyed the temporary rapport between them, and he inwardly swore.

"I think I should get back to work", she said flatly, bumping his shoulder as she stalked past him and through the door.

He pounded his fist against the nearby wall, releasing some of his pent up frustrations. "Damn!" he hissed quietly.

He had spoken about a situation they had all on numerous occasions agreed was sensitive and ultimately taboo with either party, without even thinking about it. "Nice work, Brown", he grunted to himself irritably.

He could just see Nick shaking his head, ready to call him on pissing off Sara, again. It was his first instinct to tell the Texan about it. He closed his eyes, covering his face with his hand.

Nick's sarcastic comebacks and playful bets were something he had taken for granted, and which just didn't exist anymore. For the first time since he was a kid, and he was left alone in the world, he felt a single tear slide down his cheek, and graze his shirt.

He lowered his head, drawing in a deep, calming breath. "Damnit, Stokes, why'd you have to do this to us?"

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TBC...