Chapter Thirteen Leave Me Alone

Escorted by Tom and Captain Brass, the two victims made their way to the chamber of one Roger Mason. In the cell next to him, David Mason sat on a bench with cracked glasses and a heavily bandaged abdomen. It turned out that the bullet had missed all vital organs but still embedded itself to the left of his rib cage. After it was removed, he was stitched up, bandaged, and sent into Vegas Crime Lab custody. He had been there for seven hours.

"Thank you. You can go now," said Sara.

"Are you sure?" asked Brass, raising his eyebrows. "They can be a tricky bunch. The guards tell me there's been resistance ever since the second one came here."

"I'm armed. If they get 'tricky,' I can defend myself and Greg. I'd prefer to talk to them without police escort." She did not look at him.

Brass shrugged and motioned for Tom to follow him out. Sara and Greg approached the bars. Roger came forward out of the darkness. He looked unrested, and Greg noticed that his unnaturally neat hair from yesterday was now as messy as his own. He averted his eyes as he spoke.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, leaning his head on the bars. "David's been giving me enough hell without you two getting involved."

"I can hear you, you know, dumbass!" snapped David. He was more irritable than ever. He got up, ran over to the bars, and reached out. For a minute, Sara thought he was trying to attack them and searched her belt for her gun. But then, he shouted, "Hey, guard! Can I have my goddamn cigarettes? I paid for them, you know!"

"Oh, that's right," thought Greg. "He kept smoking. If he's gone this long without a cigarette, he must be -"

His thoughts were by a yell of rage after the guard shook his head and pointed to a "No Smoking" sign. This was followed by a loud "clang!" when David kicked the bars in a fury. Roger showed no reaction to either of these sounds. No one spoke for a few minutes. Then, Sara cleared her throat and pushed Greg forward to speak with his kidnaper.

"I want to say thanks," he said timidly. "For- for not killing me."

Roger sniggered. Greg didn't blame him; it was a ridiculous thing to say to anyone. "Hmph. It's not like I didn't mean to kill you," he said, still looking at the ground but giving a small smile. "But David's right - I just don't have the guts."

"Keep saying things like that and you will get persecuted for life," scorned Greg.

"We're here to tell you," Sara started, "that we're both willing to testify for you in court. So it's up to the judicial system to decide what you're guilty of and what you're not guilty of, and we'll put in our two cents to help you out. You didn't shoot Greg even when your life was in danger, and you really saved my ass. This is our gratitude."

Again, Roger did not react. But he looked up. "It's a classic case," he said. "Man shoots another, then revives him. Is the shooter guilty? Yes! Therefore, I am guilty."

"But this is different," said Greg. "First of all, the man who was shot is willing to forgive the shooter, and there was a third man..." He stopped, becoming confused.

"Okay, okay, the new story," said Sara., "goes as follows. Man A brings Man B to Man C. Man C then shoots Man B. Man A saves Man B, even though Man C threatened to kill Man A if he didn't let Man B die. Is Man A guilty? Nope."

Roger used his fingers to try and follow Sara's story. When he at last figured it out, it continued to protest. "But that's only half of the story. Man A did the same thing again, and then shot Man C. Man A is guilty as charged!"

A hush fell over the group. Sara stared at the sad man. What in the world was wrong with him? She would have expected him to jump for joy when they told him they'd help. She scowled.

"We're going to testify, stupid!" she said. "We're gonna help you!"

"I don't want your help or your pity," he said. "You shouldn't be here. No one should be here. If I was any good, both of you would be dead and the cell next to me would be empty. I don't -"

He would have continued had Greg not stepped in and smacked him across the face. He blinked. Greg looked back, his eyes surging with anger.

"So you wanted to kill me, did you?" He balled his hands into fists. "And Sara, too? That's a really bad lie. So just stop thinking about your ego. You're not no good - you're a CSI. Every day, people are counting on you, and you rarely disappoint them. Quit explaining what you don't want and start telling us what you do want."

Roger put his hand to where Greg had hit him. It was stinging even after he finished his little speech. Roger was fuming. Sara looked worried, but Greg stood his ground. "You put me through hell," he continued. "I was scared to death. Even when I was away from you, I could have died from countless reasons on the road. And even I'm willing to try and save you. Stop your stupid mind games and take the damn offer."

"I'll tell you what I want," Roger hissed. "25 to life away from my abusive brother. That is why I tried to kill him and that is why I don't want you interfering with my persecution."

Sara leered at him. "I was wrong about you. You are crazy. Come on, Greg." She tugged on his arm. "If he doesn't want our help, he's not going to get it. It's easier to say what a criminal he is in court, anyway. She dragged him away by the sleeve, and he was glad to go.

After they had gone, Roger put his hands on the bars and let out a sigh. It was going to be a tough 25 years, but it was worth it...or was it? He thought about the decision he made when something hit him on the shoulder.

"Ah!" he turned, startled, and saw David standing up with his arms folded and one shoe missing. He did not look content.

"So I'm 'abusive,' am I?" He said, taking off his other shoe and throwing it up in the air like a baseball. "Brat...I'll teach you the meaning of 'abusive!'"

Sara slammed the door to the holding chamber of the building and looked back at Greg. He was fixing his t-shirt, and looked nearly as annoyed as she felt.

"Okay, so he wants to go to jail," said Sara. "Happy to help with that." She went off, probably to go back to work. Greg watched after her. No matter how infuriated he was by Roger's arrogance, he couldn't help but feel that it was wrong to persecute him. Wouldn't it be considered a lie if he said he didn't want to assist him? He paced back and forth in the hallway, debating himself. That was when he heard the scream from the holding cells.