Warrick and Greg rummaged through the seemingly spotless history of Coach Brent Nero. The guy never married and seemed to have lived a pretty clean life. There were no indications of any criminal wrongdoing, and his professional record was impeccable. Warrick shook his head, scanning another document before digging into some of the newspaper clippings gathered from microfilm.
He was fishing though the box when he noticed Greg staring off into space instead of paying attention to his work. Warrick cleared his throat, but after being greeted by silence, he leaned back in his chair, eyeing the kid.
"What's on your mind, Greggo?"
Greg rested his elbows on the table and twiddled with his hands. "I was just thinking back to yesterday."
Hearing the dissonance in his voice, Warrick sighed. "Yeah? And what do you think you could have done differently?"
Greg shrugged. "I don't carry a gun... maybe I should," he said dejectedly, not quite looking the other man in the eye.
Warrick shook his head. "You are not allowed to carry a weapon until you're a CSI level 2. Even if you had one… then what? The guy was using Nick as a shield."
Greg didn't look too convinced.
Warrick taped his fingers on the table. "Nick went over there, without an officer, dragged you along…" He trailed off as he became more upset with each word.
Greg finally looked over at him. "We wouldn't have found out about Nero if Nick didn't—"
"I know that, Greg!" Warrick's eyes flashed in anger then calmed. "I'm sorry, man. Its just Nick should be in a hospital… Hell! He shouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place."
Greg looked down at the table. He knew how worried Warrick was over the whole situation. Trying to distract himself, he leafed through the newspapers and tried to decide where to start… when he froze.
Greg's eyes got big, and he did a double-take. "Warrick!" The tech jumped up and shoved the clipping towards him.
Warrick glanced down at the sports column, reading about Coach Nero's team from 2000, when his fingers nearly crumpled the item from adrenaline.
"It's not the same guy," he said excitedly.
Greg smiled, his grin matching his beady eyes. "Which means whoever took Jason and killed his brother is someone totally different."
Warrick clapped Greg on the back. "Nice catch, man. Now all we have to do is figure out who the hell has been posing as this Nero guy."
Both men were giddy after finally making some sort of breakthrough on the case. The lead only meant more questions, than answers, but it was something fresh to go on. Warrick was about to pull out his cell when each CSI heard a loud commotion erupt in the hallway.
Curious, both of them went into the corridor in search of the fuss. There was a group of employees huddled much farther down the hallway. Doc Robbins was trying to get past the onlookers and both CSI's eyes and ears perked up when they heard the unmistakable voice of Gil Grissom.
Greg looked over at Warrick. "When did Grissom get here?"
Warrick's face clouded over. "Better question. Who told him to come back?"
Archie Johnson wandered away from the group, and headed towards them, his expression rattled.
"What's goin' on over there, man?" Warrick asked, with a sinking feeling.
Archie squinted and looked back over his shoulder for a second. "Hodges says that Nick collapsed. It looks pretty bad."
Warrick closed his eyes for a split second, muttering under his breath. Then he ran down the hallway, shoving people out of his way, with Greg close behind him.
Gil Grissom carefully kept the fabric of Nick's sweater pushed away as he stared at the spreading crimson stain over a thick layer of bandages. Nick was shivering, his eyes glassed over and unfocused, while he mumbled incoherently under his breath.
Catherine clasped her hand over her mouth, but quickly backed away and bolted out the door in search of help. She almost barreled over David Hodges, who had been hanging around after his encounter with Nick in the men's room.
Catherine gripped him by the shoulders, her voice tight and in control. "Go get Doc Robbins, now!"
Before the tech could respond, Bobby Dawson who also had been lurking in the hallway quickly responded, "I'll get him." He dashed towards the morgue.
David was fast on Catherine's heels when she re-entered the room. She quickly dialed 911 and requested immediate medical assistance. Hodges took off his jacket and draped it over Nick's upper body, as he squatted by the CSI's side.
Grissom tried to examine the pinkish tinges of flesh around the dingy gauze, noting the oozing blood along the whole length of the bandage. Catherine squeezed Nick's leg, trying to add some encouragement to him. She ran her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, pushing the short strands out of his face.
"What the hell has been going on while we've been away?" Catherine questioned the lab tech, who stood away quietly.
Grissom slipped his finger over Nick's jugular. "He's got a weak and thready pulse."
Doc Robbins entered the room and crutched his way in, and then carefully lowered himself to the floor. He gently prodded at the bandage, as Warrick barged his way into the now crowding room.
"Oh, God, Nick." Warrick came as close as he dared, hovering over his best friend.
"He was throwing up a few minutes ago," David explained, unable to take his eyes off of his coworker.
Doc Robbins looked up and back at the hurt CSI. "He must have pulled out his stitches. Someone get me a sterile cloth to apply some pressure with," the coroner ordered.
Hodges quickly exited the room, pushing by employees who were in his way. Grissom fixed Warrick Brown with a steely glare. "Sara told me that Nick was getting in over his head… growing too obsessed. She told me he was hurt in an altercation with a suspect."
Grissom peered down at his coworker and back up at Warrick's pinched expression. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than a damn cut. What the hell was he doing at the lab?"
Warrick was shaking his head struggling with an answer. "I just wanted to give him time to pull himself together."
"Time! For what, Warrick?" Grissom screamed at him.
"Gil!" Catherine tried to calm him.
David was back with a clean-looking towel and Doc grabbed it and applied pressure to Nick's abdomen, causing the wounded man to shrink away from the pain.
Doc held the towel in place, "I'm sorry, Nick," he told him softly. It was obvious that the semi-conscious man never heard him.
The coroner looked over at the concerned group. "I don't want to cut away these bandages and cause him to bleed out more. If he threw up, he probably popped his internal stitches as well."
Grissom placed the back of his hand on Nick's flushed face. "He's got a fever."
Doc Robbins stared at the part of Nick's dressing that was not covered in blood. He noted the beige color and yellow tinges. "Doesn't look like these have been properly changed. It's hard to tell, but from the pallor of the skin around these bandages, his wound has been infected."
Grissom glared at Warrick whose fierce green eyes were growing more alarmed as each second ticked by.
"How bad was this injury? Why isn't he in a hospital?"
Warrick let the accusation wash over him and bristled. "He received over forty stitches and he signed out AMA. He was determined to get back here and nothing was going to stop him, Gris."
Gil Grissom looked furious. He kept his hand on Nick's shoulder while he shivered and groaned on the ground. Grissom looked back up at his staff members. "Well someone should have damn well done something. I want the incident report from his injury and an explanation as to why Nick was even allowed back into the building."
Greg held himself in a tight hug and stepped away as the EMTs finally arrived, saving them from the rest of Grissom's wrath. The medics quickly surrounded Nick and the others stepped aside to give them room to work on him.
One of the EMTs shined a penlight into Nick's pupils, while the other checked his blood pressure and assessed the injury.
"Pulse's 135, BP 80/30," the female EMT announced to her partner.
The lead EMT applied an oxygen mask to the CSI, and both of them began the process of transferring him to their gurney for transport.
Grissom and Hodges began clearing a way for the patient, getting the lab employees to move along. Nick was quickly transported down the hall and into a waiting ambulance.
Grissom looked back at both Greg and Warrick. "You two in my office, now!"
"I want to see what's happening to---"
Catherine placed a hand on Warrick's shoulder to cut him off. "Let's talk first, then we'll go see Nick, okay."
The four CSIs silently went though the halls after Grissom made arrangements for the room to be cordoned off and spoke on the phone with Sara. The Graveyard Team arrived inside the supervisor's office and the door was slammed closed. Grissom flipped off his phone and fixed two of his team members with a somewhat calmer expression.
"Tell me what happened from the beginning."
Grissom and Warrick had been directed towards a set of chairs to wait on news about Nick's condition. Sara had joined Greg on trying to identify who was posing as Brent Nero after he pulled her off her hit-and-run. Armed with a warrant, the two CSIs headed for the school to retrieve fingerprints or DNA off of any of the items from the coach's office or from the school's sport's equipment.
Warrick quietly fumed over the thought that Sara had secretly contacted Grissom about the case. Sara had called in the supervisor behind his back… behind Nick's back. It still irked him that she had so little trust in any of them.
Warrick and Grissom said very little to each other since they arrived. After Grissom took in all the information about the case and re-assigned aspects of it, the man had not spoke a single word to him. Before Warrick could break the silence, Dr. Taylor made her way over to the awaiting visitors. The redheaded physician gave Warrick an unfavorable look and introduced herself to the graveyard shift supervisor.
"Mr. Stokes is in recovery. I re-stitched the laceration and drained an infection that settled around the wound." Dr. Taylor sent a seething look in Warrick's direction and looked back over at the older man. "Despite the fact that we drained some of the bacterial build-up. I'm afraid an infection has entered the bloodstream, also called sepsis."
Warrick's body slumped at the words and he visible paled. Grissom took the information in stride. "I take it you're giving him an array of antibiotics to battle this?"
Dr. Taylor sighed. "We're giving him a large dose of broad-spectrum antibiotics until we get the cultures back. I'll be very frank. He's in septic shock, and his temperature has spiked to 105."
"He was doing all right yesterday," Warrick was too engrossed in the news to realize he said the words out loud.
The physician gave him a stern look. "The dressing was never changed and has become dirty. There may be an underlying infection, which would compromise his immune system, compounding the infection."
Warrick looked over at her, completely defeated. He glanced over at his boss, whose gaze softened somewhat.
"Do you know if he had been taking the prescriptions I handed him?" the physician inquired.
Warrick's eyes grew large and he stalked away, cursing. Grissom wandered after him. "Calm down, Warrick."
Warrick turned, "I forgot to give them to him. Damn it! Grissom. The doc handed me his bag and I just simply left them in my locker when we got back."
"Sounds like Nicky didn't have his head on right during this case, Warrick," Grissom tried to calm him.
Warrick shook his head. "Nah, Gris. He had everything down. He was large and in charge, taking care of every single thing that came up. You'd be proud… but… this family…" Warrick shook his head again. "I dunno, he got in too deep."
"He got attached, Warrick," Grissom explained.
Warrick wasn't buying it. "It wasn't that simple… there's more to it. Nick's good at stepping back when he needs to. Yeah, he gets a bit emotionally involved, but he's smarter than that. I've seen him detach from a case. He wouldn't risk harming anything that might get us later at trial."
Grissom adjusted his glasses. "Then what was it?"
Dr. Taylor wandered over to the criminalists, her posture slightly more gentle than before. "While you were talking, one of the nurses informed me that Mr. Stokes really wants to see both of you. He's been very insistent. Since all of you have been working a rather difficult case, I thought you should go talk to him."
"We'll go see him," Grissom answered her.
Both Grissom and Warrick put disinfected their hands before they were allowed to see their friend. There were many steps in place to keep any kind of bacteria any from the patient. Nick was not on a ventilator, which was one of the few reasons he was in a closely monitored private room and not in the ICU ward. Nick looked asleep, his short hair matted to his forehead. A slight flush could be seen on his cheeks, despite the sickly pale color of the rest of his skin. Oxygen was being supplied to him by a nasal cannula. Nick had an IV line in the back of his arm half from his wrist. A nurse was finishing up her vitals check, which would contiune every two hours for the first twelve hours of Nick's stay.
Warrick shuddered. He frowned, knowing how hard Nick had pushed himslef on this case. Warrick should have been more forceful about his growing concern, but he had backed off...maybe too much. He looked over at Gil, as if silently wandering if they should intrude at all. But as soon as they got near the bed rail, Nick instantly woke up and lifted a shaky hand off the bed.
Warrick grabbed it and squeezed it reassuringly. Grissom came beside him, looking at a loss on how to address the younger man.
Nick pulled his partner closer. "He's n-not the s-same guy," he spoke hoarsely.
The little effort of talking seemed to wipe him out and Nick struggled to breathe before speaking again. "N-nero.."
"Shhssh, we know. Greg found a picture of Coach Nero and he's not the same guy," Warrick tried to soothe the clearly agitated man.
"No," Nick moaned, closing his eyes as he fought off the chills that caused him to shiver so badly in the bed. "T-trent N-N Walker," he managed to say through chattering teeth.
"Who's that, Nick?" Grissom asked, leaning down so he could hear.
Nick squeezed Warrick's hand trying to channel his pain and frustration.
"It's okay, man. Trent Walker? Where did you get that name?" he asked, patting his shoulder.
Nick wrapped his right hand over the a pillow that a nurse gave him to splint his stomach with. It covered the bulky surgical dressing through his hospital shirt. The shivering and talking was causing the stitches to pull, the pain to mount. His head was already fuzzy and confused. He needed to communicate but it was taking such a toll to stay focused. Nick breathed heavily, almost panting.
"The church papers," he coughed slightly.
Warrick shared a frustrated expression with his boss, trying to decipher the ill man's ramblings. It was important to Nick, so he would wait and figure out the meaning.
"Which papers, Nick?" Grissom tried to get him to focus. "Trent Walker was in the some church papers? What documents?"
Nick nodded. "Church paper… f-from..." Nick fell back, too exhausted to continue.
Warrick whispered soothing words in his ear. He looked back over at Grissom who stood quietly, but his eyes spoke volumes.
Warrick looked back at the supervisor. "I think Nick's trying to tell us that Trent Walker is the guy posing as Brent Nero. We can check back at your office to see what he was looking at before everything went to hell."
"If Nick identified the real kidnapper, then it might lead us to Jason."
Grissom summarized.
"Then let's go," Warrick was ready to lead the charge, but Grissom kept a hand on his shoulder to still him.
"Maybe you should stay and be with Nick. He should have someone here with him."
"Hell, no. The best way I can help my boy is to catch the guy who did this," Warrick argued, trying to keep his voice low.
"This case already consumed one CSI. I'm not going to let it get two," Grissom warned.
Warrick was going to launch into a diatribe, when Catherine made her presence known. How long she been standing there was either man's guess. "I'll stay with Nicky. I think he'll feel better talking to me when he gets a chance."
Grissom raised an eyebrow at the remark, and looked back over at Warrick's determined expression.
"I think the best way to help Nick is to save Jason Todd," Warrick explained. He went over to Catherine and brushed his hand over her arm. "Tell my bro that I'm working hard for him. That I'll stop by when I can."
Catherine smiled pensively, "I will. I'll keep him company."
Grissom left hesitantly with Warrick in tow. He nodded at Catherine before looking back at the prone man in the bed. Without a word the two men left Catherine Willows alone. She pulled out the chair and sat down. She found Nick's overly warm hand and held it in hers.
"Oh, Nicky. Why didn't you call me?" she asked, without getting an answer.
tbc...
Notes at bio..may take a little while for teh website to update them, though.