Appreciation by SLynn

Summary: An art heist, an arsonist and a lot of angst. Takes place approximately four months after the end of 'Precious Things' This is the fifth in a series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OC

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 26: Sedated

Warrick had dropped everything and headed straight to UMC after hanging up with Nick. It hadn't taken long to get there, but upon arriving he found the place swamped. The emergency room was packed with people. There had been a nasty accident on interstate fifteen and UMC, the closest hospital to the accident, had received the majority of the patients.

After waiting rather impatiently at the front desk for help, Warrick finally got the receptionist's attention.

"I'm here to see Greg Sanders," he said curtly. "He was brought here from a house fire."

"Are you sure he was brought here?" she responded, equaling his tone and continuing about what she was doing without looking up. "We've diverted a lot of patients to St. Rose."

"I don't know if he was diverted," Warrick sighed, shaking his head. "I was told he was brought here. Can you check?"

The woman looked up and stared for a half a second before asking him to repeat the name.

"Sanders," Warrick answered. "Greg Sanders. He's a crime scene investigator."

"Nope," she said shaking her head. "No one named Sanders has been admitted."

"Are you sure?"

"The computer doesn't lie."

"Can you check again?"

"I can," she said, no longer even trying to sound polite, "but it's not going to change. The closest I've got is a 'Saunders'."

"Is that a Greg Saunders?"

The woman looked indignant at his semi-accusation but after Warrick fixed her with a stare she finally looked back to the monitor.

"Yes," she admitted. "He was brought in an hour ago from a fire."

"Where is he now?"

The receptionist returned her gaze to the monitor and screwed up her face in disbelief.

"He's on the third floor, the psych ward. Are you family?"

"No but…"

"Then I'm afraid you're not going to be let in to see him. You can try there yourself but I doubt…"

Warrick didn't wait around to hear her out, just headed straight past the desk and towards the elevators.

It didn't take long to find the ward, but the receptionist proved right. The only people allowed in were immediately family, and even then only after an initial wait of twenty-four hours. Warrick tried arguing that Greg's only family was in California and that he worked with him, but to no avail.

Warrick was just about to call Grissom to see if he could do any better when he caught sight of Dr. Jennings coming around the corner. After calling out to her and catching her attention she stopped and came his way.

"Mr. Brown," she said uncertainly. They'd only met once before a few months back, quite by accident when he and Greg had been out.

"Dr. Jennings," he returned with a nod. "I'm trying to get some information on Greg. How's he doing?"

"Not well," she answered honestly. "Come back with me. He could use the company."

Warrick thanked her as she ushered him through the double doors past the nurse's station and down a long corridor.

"How'd he end up here?" Warrick asked, unable to hide his disdain.

"Believe me," she returned, easily as agitated as he was, "it wasn't my decision. I was called in when they realized I'm his psychiatrist, but that was after he'd already been brought here."

Warrick raised an eyebrow, questioning her with a glance.

"I know. They say they had no choice. That he became uncontrollable in the ambulance on the way here and that they had to sedate him. Twice."

"What about his injuries? Was he treated or just dropped off here?"

"He was treated first in the E.R. Greg wasn't seriously injured. He was very lucky. I understand from the paramedic he had a severe asthma attack which actually might have prevented further trauma to his throat and lungs. Unfortunately he had another one here, that one was likely panic induced."

"Is he on a ventilator?"

"No," Dr. Jennings said, stopping in front of room 307. "He's breathing on his own, they had to put a tube in temporarily until the swelling went down, but it's been removed. He's still hoarse, his breathings a bit shallow, but he's out of danger."

"So he can't talk," Warrick said, sounding disappointed.

"Whisper. He can whisper. There are some things we should talk about before going in," Dr. Jennings returned, quite seriously. "He's still sedated, but awake right now. He can hear you, but he hasn't been responding to anyone for the last half an hour."

"I can imagine," Warrick said.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah," Warrick nodded. "Sara and Greg were both inside the house when it caught on fire. Greg was taken out first. Before he was taken off scene they brought out a second body. Nick told me that they all thought it was Sara, but it turned out it wasn't. Greg doesn't know yet."

"He may not believe you," Dr. Jennings said after a pause. "Be persistent. Be patient. I'll see if I can track down where they've taken Sara to and arrange a visit, see how she's doing."

"I'd appreciate that."

Dr. Jennings smiled and put her hand on the door before stopping once again.

"So you know," she added after thinking it over, "he's in restraints. They'll be removed once the sedatives wear off and the doctor on call sees he's calmed down, but until then there's nothing I can do about that. It's more for the hospital than the patient. Apparently there were some problems in the ambulance and then more in the E.R. They don't want to be sued if he hurts himself again."

"Again?"

"It got very physical. He pulled out his IV."

Warrick looked at her, unblinking.

"Was he trying…"

Warrick couldn't even finish the question. Wasn't sure what he was asking. Didn't really want to know.

"No," Dr. Jennings answered, "I think he was just trying to leave."

"But you weren't there."

Dr. Jennings gave him a weaker smile this time before shaking her head.

"Thank you doctor."

"I'll be back soon," she said, opening the door for him and stepping out of the way.

Warrick didn't have time to pull his thoughts together before finding himself in the room. It was dimly lit and somewhat small. Greg was lying down, still hooked up to a few monitors and staring blankly at the ceiling. Warrick could see he had restraints on his wrists but thankfully nowhere else. Coming over and taking a seat beside him, he sat quietly for a minute waiting for Greg to first acknowledge his presence. After a few minutes of steady silence Warrick knew that wasn't going to happen.

Greg looked bad.

He'd obviously been cleaned up some, but still had soot in his hair and on his face in places. His left arm was heavily bandaged at the elbow and Warrick assumed that was where the first IV had been placed. The new one was in his right hand. Warrick was surprised to see they were giving him blood.

Looking him over once more, preparing himself for the worst, Warrick had almost spoken when he noticed something he hadn't seen before. Greg, now dressed in a hospital gown, had dark smudges on his arms just above his elbows. On closer look, they weren't smudges, they were bruises.

Before he had time to grow really angry, knowing they had to have been caused in the struggle Dr. Jennings had alluded too, Greg stirred. Warrick saw that Greg was now looking at him instead of the ceiling. His eyes were glassy and Warrick wondered how strong of a sedative was given.

"Hey man," Warrick finally said, "I had a hard time finding you."

Greg didn't answer, just turned his head back to continue looking up again.

"Nick called me. Wanted me to come tell you what happened after you left. They got Sara out and took her here."

Warrick paused and waited for some reaction from Greg but got nothing in return.

"Dr. Jennings is checking to see how soon you can see her. I'm sure Sara would want that."

"You're lying."

"Greg," Warrick asked as evenly as he could, "have I ever lied to you?"

Greg turned back to him. Warrick could almost see the struggle behind his eyes as Greg tried to work it out, undoubtedly hindered by the drugs in his system.

"I saw her," he said after a long pause.

His voice was soft and cracked as he spoke. Warrick knew he had to keep at it, but it was getting harder to just sit there and watch as Greg broke down.

"I saw…" he repeated, unable to stop the tears that slipped out of his eyes.

"It wasn't her," Warrick said firmly. "Nick and Charlie are working on it, but they think it's your arsonist. That he was trapped inside with you and Sara."

"You're just saying that," Greg said again, turning away once more.

"Greg," Warrick said, struggling to keep his voice calm, "I wouldn't do that. You know I wouldn't. Sara was brought here after you were."

"She's okay?" Greg asked, still struggling to speak.

Warrick paused because he honestly didn't know the answer to that. Nick hadn't said, hadn't known either.

"Dr. Jennings is checking right now."

Greg grew quiet again and Warrick did as well.

After a few minutes more Greg moved, tried to sit up and struggled against the restraints.

"Just relax," Warrick said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Those will be off soon."

"They think I'm crazy."

Warrick wasn't sure if he should laugh at that or not. Greg had nearly sounded normal then, almost proud.

"Well, I hear you're picking fights with paramedics."

"He started it."

Warrick did laugh at that one, couldn't help it and again they sat in silence.

"She's really okay?" Greg asked again, looking once more at Warrick for proof.

"Get some rest," Warrick evaded. "Dr. Jennings will be back soon. She'll give you the details then."

Greg nodded weakly, eyes still glazed and looking very much like he needed the rest. Reluctantly he shut his eyes and Warrick breathed a sigh of relief.