A/N: So leaving you guys with a cliffhanger is what gets those replys? Too bad I don't have another one for this installment. (Except for the fact that the Watcher is still not revealed.)The general concensus is that Grissom is the Watcher, but I'm not saying if that is right or wrong.

As for Hodges being the bad guy...no! I couldn't do that to my buddy Hodges.

Well, thanks for hanging in here with me. I seem to have a pattern going of posting on Sundays and Thursdays, so I'll try to keep with that. Until then...don't lose your head.:)

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Greg held onto the dash with one hand and his seatbelt with the other in a vain attempt to stay steady as Warrick drove like a lunatic. His ears seemed to burn from the steady litany of curses that spewed from the man's mouth. Obviously, Warrick's extra long life had given him an extra long vocabulary of curses.

Normally, Greg would be awed by this ability of oration. If he weren't currently scared shitless by Warrick's driving, he would be enjoying himself. He'd never known Warrick to drive so erratically, as if he didn't care if they made it to their destination in one piece. He would be more impressed if he wasn't so worried about Nick.

Exactly what Warrick had feared had come true. Someone had attacked Nick. Someone had tried to kill Nick. According to the frantic call from Catherine, Nick was all but dead. Which was why they were rushing to the hospital.

"Wh….What happens if he dies?" Greg finally stuttered.

"Then the Nick Stokes we all know and love is gone. He disappears. He can't come back to Vegas for at least fifty years. Until long after anyone who might remember him is gone. He starts a new life somewhere else. He trains as if his life depends on it, because…..it does. His life will be about the Game from here on out."

"This is why you wanted to tell us?" Greg had to ask. "Because you knew this would happen?" Much to his relief, Warrick's pressure on the gas lessoned slightly.

"No, but I just…..had a weird feeling. A bad vibe." Warrick had subconsciously slowed the car from supersonic to racecar speeds. Greg was grateful of this little respite. He decided to keep him talking for their own safety as well as his curiosity's sake.

"Where will he go?" What will we do?"

"If he dies, we have to get his body and remove it before he comes back."

"You think we can?"

"I've done it before. First death takes a lot longer to recover from than what you saw with me. He'll awaken in the Morgue, most likely." Warrick explained as he turned onto the road that led to the hospital.

"He'll be freaked. Good thing you had the chance to tell him about all this."

"I should have told you both a long time ago. I should have prepared you both for this….This is my fault."

"No. You can't be with us at all times. We're grown men; we should be able to take care of ourselves." Greg shook his head as Warrick took the last corner too quickly.

"If I'd prepared you properly, you wouldn't need me to be there all the time." Warrick snarled angrily as he shut off the motor. Greg was momentarily shaken by the intensity of Warrick's ire, but realized that it was aimed towards himself, and not at Greg. Warrick had always been the one to be upset by his own mistakes.

"Hey, Not to change the subject, but……you ever compete in stock car races? Where'd ya learn to drive like that."

"Come on, let's go find Nick." Warrick chuckled. Greg was glad to see the smile, even if it didn't reach the eyes.

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This was not how he had planned it! He didn't get to finish it! He was supposed to get to kill him and take his head. That Damn woman had distracted him! If she had just stayed inside the building, he would have been able to finish him off! He didn't get to play with him! The little taste of fear wasn't enough! He was supposed to have killed the man! Warrick was supposed to be in shock right now. From where he was watching the man stalk into the hospital, Warrick was not shocked, he was pissed. Pissed and protective. Warrick wouldn't be letting the other one out of his sight anytime soon.

Now they were gathering again! They would be on their guard now. Getting to them would not be so easy! They were gathering together, gathering their strength while he as licking his wounds. His pride was damaged. They would pay for disrupting his playing! Where the hell did that other Immortal come from? What was his business here? How the hell did he know to come to 'Nicky's' aid? This was not how he had planned it. He had to think. He had to figure out what had gone wrong. Had he somehow let Warrick know that he was being targeted? Had Warrick felt his presence?

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"Cath!" Warrick jogged up to the woman sitting in the waiting room. She was pale and had a white bandage on her brow. Its blaring whiteness sent a roll of rage through him. This senseless attack was wrong, and he didn't like it. Catherine should not be hurt like this. Nick had been through enough. Fate had never been kind to Nick, but this was downright ridiculous!

"Nicky's okay." She gave them a half smile as Greg came to sit beside her. She took Greg's hand as if grateful for the contact. "He's getting patched up now."

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. This man……was on top of Nick, had a knife to his throat. I think I yelled…….I saw the knife…..in his chest….. He turned to me…..I don't remember much after that." Catherine sobbed, shaking her head in disbelief. "It all happened so fast."

Greg looked to Warrick and grew nervous. To an ordinary person, Warrick simply looked concerned for his friend, but Greg saw differently. While his hand was on Catherine's shoulder in a show of comfort, Warrick was tense. His face showed nothing, but his eyes told a different story. He was looking around the busy room, searching the faces of those coming and going. Greg could see the intensity in his friend. Something was up.

Greg continued to watch Warrick as he comforted Catherine. He let out a pent up breath when Warrick relaxed. Following his gaze, he saw what Warrick had already sensed. Mac was making his way over to them. Mac stopped a few feet away, nodding to Warrick. The tall CSI quietly excused himself with a gentle squeeze to Catherine's shoulder and stalked over to the other man. Greg wanted to join them but his first priority was Catherine.

Staying with Catherine did not stop him from watching the pair as they discussed something passionately. Greg had only seen Warrick this tense and emotional once, and that was when Nick was buried in the ground. Mac put an arm around the CSI's shoulders as if trying to comfort him. Warrick barked something back at him and Mac nodded. Giving Warrick a little shake, he strode out.

Warrick took a moment to get control of himself before rejoining his teammates. Greg's gaze stayed on him, pleading for answers that he couldn't give in front of Catherine. The green gaze seemed to promise him that things would be explained to him. Now was not the time for secrets.

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This is where things got tricky. How did one find a reason to leave work and follow his subject? If he left work every time Warrick did, he wouldn't have a job. Therefore, he relied on modern technology. Technology was cool. Warrick didn't know he was bugged. His car had a tracking device. His phone was monitored. He didn't listen to everything Warrick spoke into his cell, but he caught enough to understand what was going on. He had heard Warrick call MacLeod and ask him to keep an eye on Nick. The Watcher had frowned at this. Why would he want Nick to have a bodyguard? He wished, for the thousandth time, that Warrick was more forthright in expressing his emotions.

The Watcher had heard about Warrick's tantrum earlier. He had heard about his anger at Grissom sending Nick off away from Warrick. Something weird was going on and he needed to find out what. He didn't like the idea of invading Warrick's privacy any more than he already had, but it was beginning to look as if he should plant listening devices in Warrick's apartment.

He had heard Catherine's call to Warrick. Nick had been attacked. He knew about it before anyone else at the lab did. His first desire was to race out of there, to go see about Nick for himself. He couldn't do that. He had a job to do. He had a role to play and he couldn't lose this part. He had to pretend as if he knew nothing until it was made known to the rest of the lab. How does one pretend that nothing was wrong when a friend could be dying?

He could only sit back and watch. He was just another player warming the bench while the pros played the game. He couldn't participate. He couldn't interfere, as much as he wanted to. He wanted to be there for his friends. Nick was his friend. Warrick, no matter what he was, was his friend. He was torn between the job he had to do and what he felt in his soul. They were two completely opposite things, and he had to make a choice. No matter what he wanted, what he felt, the job had to come first. His job was to watch, and that was what he must do. He had to sit back and watch this play out. Sometimes living a secret life bites.

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Still think it's Gil?

tbc...