Walking into the lab break room, Nick noticed a worried brunette sitting on the couch. He watched in half-amusment, half worry, as she kept pulling out her cell to check the screen every two minutes.

"Uh, Sar? Phones usually ring when somebody calls. You know that, right?" The cowboy CSI leaned against the doorframe and smirked when she looked at the screen for the umpteenth time.

She glared, something normally not unusual but towards Nick, it was. "Stop being such an ass," Sara snapped as she crossed her arms in irritation.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Woah, just playing around with you. Somethin' up?"

Looking up from her lap, she saw that he wasn't hurt by her insult, but instead was rather concerned. Eyes filling up with unshed tears, she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. Here he was, only two weeks after his near-death, and she was going to bite her best friend's head off. "I'm sorry," Sara mumbled quietly. "It's just that Greg hasn't called."

Nick sat down beside her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Where has Greggo been anyway?"

A look of disbelief crossed his friend's face. "Are you kidding me? Am I the only one who knows where he is?" She said indignantly. "I thought Gris or even Cath would have told everybody by now."

"Hey, don't shoot," he drawled with his Texan accent. "He did. Sorta. Only told me and War that Greggo had a week for break, though. Lucky stiff."

"Oh."

"Anyway, Greg will call. He always does, 'member?"

Sighing, Sara nodded. "It's just that the last three days he or Emily called right about now."

With surprise, Nick chanced a glance at the room clock. "At four o'clock in the morning? He's insane!" He chuckled. "If I had a week off, I'd be asleep 24/7!"

"With a family as big as the one he's got, he's lucky if he even gets to sleep." Smiling, she relaxed a little bit. "You're right. Greg's probably busy having so much fun he's forgotten about little ol' us."

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If only she knew.

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"Drive back safely, kjære." Greg's mother warned as he piled into the driver seat of his lime-green BMW. "California isn't any safer than Vegas at night."

He nodded, waving back at his parents who were standing on their front porch.

"You do remember the way back to Emily's house, I hope?"

"Of course, pappa." Closing the door, Greg waved one last time and backed out of the driveway onto the road.

Once back onto the highway, Greg turned on the radio in time to hear a Marilyn Manson song blare through the speakers. He grinned; it was one of his favorites. Tapping in beat to the music, he steered off the highway onto a more darker street. Only one or two cars passed in the opposite lane.

Another turn, and he was on a nearly pitch-black road with nobody in sight. He sighed. That earlier storm must have knocked out the power in the area. A NOFX song began to play as soon as the other song faded out. Happily, he sung off-key with the lyrics.

Turning around a rather sharp corner, he saw the glare of lights appear suddenly around the trees in front of him.

Jerking the steering wheel to the right as hard as he could, he felt the side of the car collide with the guardrail. A loud screech filled the air as metal scraped against metal.

Brakes squealed as the driver of the eighteen wheeler slammed on the pedal, he doing the same.

In a body-jarring crash, blinding light filled the small vehicle as it was shoved several meters back before it flew to a grinding halt against a large tree.

The windshield shattered upon impact, airbags deploying immediately after.

Shouting filled the air as the overly large truck finally stopped and the old man inside jumped out.

His mind only knew the blinding light.

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It had been a while.

Long enough to see that he couldn't wake up, no matter how hard he tried.

Long enough to figure out that his family and friends were here, with him, even though he couldn't talk or see them.

Long enough to find out that it was Sara who had cried those tears on his hand.

Long enough to know that this wasn't a room anymore.

Too long.

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Six o'clock and shift was nearing to an end. By now, Sara was pacing the DNA lab nervously, fumbling with the phone.

At the first ring, she nearly dropped it in shock and flipped it open to find that it was Emily. Pushing the talk button, she almost screamed with relief. "Emily! I thought you guys had forgetten to call!"

Silence greeted her. Maybe it was a bad connection. Trying again, she said, "Emily? You there?"

Noisy sobbing filled her ears in reply. Worriedly, Sara tried to figure out what her friend was saying. "Em? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Coming up behind her, Nick leaned in a little as he heard the sounds from across the room. "What's going on?"

She shrugged, and listened as Greg's sister finally slowed down her crying.

"Something happened. He's..." Here, Emily stopped.

Creasing her forehead in confusion, Sara queried, "He's what?"

There was a pause, and then more crying as the other woman said something about "hospital" and "coma".

"Calm down, Em. What about the hospital? Is Matt alright?"

"No, not Matt...Greg! He's been in an accident!" Muffled sniffles continued, and then quieted down. "He's in a coma, Sara, and he's..."

The phone dropped to the linoleum floor in a clatter.