A/N:

Well gang, this is it, Thursday, so that means... The final chapter. The danger has passed, now we need to see how Grissom reacts to all of this.

Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me on this one. Elena, you get a super-thanks! You reviewed constantly, giving me the motivation to continue.

Actually this has been a blast to write. I really got into this one. I've used and abused the boys enough, now it's time to put them back where they belong. (Not really, I've already started another fic. What can I say? I'm obsessed!) Yes, I "killed" Greg, but he'll "live" since he's immortal. :)

This is a little longer because my betas wouldn't let me end it without a little closure. They wanted another chapter, but I couldn't make a complete 30th chapter.

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The five Immortals stood watching the old factory burn. Thanks to Adam, it was burning well. By the time the fire trucks arrived, the body and all other evidence would be far-gone.

Warrick realized that the three swords he held in his arms would cause some questions. The best idea was to get them out of sight. He held one out to Richie. "Thanks for the use of your sword, Rich."

Richie started to take his broadsword back, but stopped and grimaced. "Eww, Warrick! Could you at least clean it off before you return it? It was clean before you used it. The polite thing would be to return it the same way."

Warrick made a face at the younger man. "Take the damn sword and clean it off yourself, punk!"

"You dirtied it, you clean it!" Richie demanded.

"How do you know that I'm the one that got it dirty? Were you here? NO!" Warrick smirked. "You should know better than to loan your sword out willy-nilly!"

"If you two don't shut up," Duncan cut in. "I'll bash your heads together!"

"He started it." Warrick rolled his eyes.

"I did not! Look what he did to my sword!" Richie pointed to the bloodied blade.

"Warrick, he does have a point. You could wipe it off at least." Adam added dryly before motioned Greg to come away from the group. He felt the need to point out the blood on his collar that would cause questions.

"Sure, take his side!" Warrick grumbled good-naturedly after him. "You always do!"

"Enough!" Duncan roared. "Geez! No wonder we Immortals can't have kids! A lifetime of dealing with squabbles would make you take your own head!"

"Why'd you have to go and find him?" Warrick questioned in a fake whining tone. "I liked it much better being an only child."

"I didn't find him, he found me." Duncan muttered, stalking towards his Thunderbird. Once he climbed inside, he bellowed. "Rich! Get your damn sword and get in this car before the police get here. I'll clean the damn thing!"

Warrick grinned devilishly at Richie, who mirrored him with his own grin. "He gets a little cranky at times. Must be his age."

Richie nodded growing serious. "I would say his bark was worse than his bite, but it would be a lie. Just a note of warning, never spar with him when he's pissed at the world."

"Been there, done that." Warrick chuckled, watching Adam join Duncan in the car. Greg stood a few feet away, looking as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to rejoin the two. He'd removed his shirt and was zipping up his jacket as far as it would go. Warrick nodded, glad that Adam had thought that far away. Turning back to the shorter Immortal, he questioned, "You wanna hang around town for a while, Little Bro? I could use some help training him."

"I think I'd like that." Richie smiled. "Besides, I think he could stir up some trouble now and then. It might be fun!" At the honk of the car, he grabbed the swords and jogged over to hop into the Thunderbird. Duncan barked something at him but Warrick couldn't hear what was said.

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Gil Grissom sat in a familiar place. Everything about this seemed familiar. He sat in a hospital room with Nick sitting in a wheelchair beside him. Nick was the injured one once again. The man had managed to tear open his stitches. This time, it was a little different as Catherine was the one in the hospital bed. She was still under sedation, having been drugged a little too heavily by her abductor. The good news was that she was going to be fine. As soon as she came out of this drug-induced sleep, she would be back to her normal self.

After all this, it amazed him that his team was still in one piece. Sara sat in the chair across from him looking a little haggard and pale, but otherwise fine. Greg shuffled from one foot to another, as if unable to stand still. Gil accepted that, the kid was still just a kid and he was full of nervous energy. He'd evidently been through a lot today.

Gil frowned up at Warrick who was leaning against the wall, as he had done many times before. Warrick looked a little worse for wear. His clothes were covered in black soot from the fire that had evidently destroyed everything. The one thing Gil found strange was that both Warrick and Greg were wearing their jackets inside the building. Not just wearing them, but Greg's was zipped up to his neck. Warrick, in typical Warrick fashion, had his jacket only partway zipped, but he wore no shirt underneath. He was definitely curious to hear how Warrick explained the loss of his shirt.

His team all claimed that the culprit was dead. That Warrick had shot him dead while defending his friends. The body was gone, disintegrated by the intense flames of a chemical explosion. When the rubble had cooled, he would go check it out, but from what he heard it would lead to nothing.

He knew questioning his team would also amount to nothing. He knew them well enough to know that they were keeping something from him, but he also knew that it couldn't be anything bad. He knew them, they weren't the kind to commit a crime and cover it up. If the shooting had been bad, Warrick was the type of guy to own up to it.

No, it was some small detail, something they felt they were protecting him from. Something they felt he was better off not knowing. He brought his attention back to Warrick. Warrick gave him an amused smile. It was a face he trusted.

Trust, that was the key. He needed to decide if he trusted his team enough to accept what they told him. Warrick offered him no excuses for his actions. He had simply repeated that he had done what he felt he needed to do to protect his friends.

Grissom cleared his throat, the silence intensified as everyone looked to him. "You guys have……broken a lot of rules and you've done some things that I don't know about."

"Gris-"Sara tried to interrupt but Gil waved her off.

"Hear me out." He ordered softly. "Look, I don't know half of what went on, but I know you guys enough to know that you did what you had to do. Whatever it was…..it's not for me to know. Somehow, all evidence of tonight's activities has been thoroughly destroyed. I can only go on what you people tell me. I've decided to accept your word. What you guys have told me will go on record and the case will be closed."

"Grissom-" Warrick spoke up only to be sent a silencing glance.

"Now, as for your jobs, I can't do anything about the repercussions from not showing up for work. You will all be treated as anyone would. You will be docked pay. You will be docked vacation days and a black mark will go in your records."

"Grissom!" Warrick growled. "I told you that I would take all the blame for this! You can't punish them for something that I did!"

"Nick won't be affected due to the fact that he was on medical leave." Grissom continued as he ignored the outburst. "Sara, technically, only missed one shift, so it won't be so bad."

Greg swallowed roughly. Nick and Sara had gotten off easy, but that left himself and Warrick to take the brunt of it. Grissom glared at the two, taking in their reactions. Warrick was angry and Greg was shaken.

"Ironically, I had forgotten to submit a request for time off. The paperwork was simply buried on my desk and although it hasn't been filed correctly, it was pre-okayed by me. I merely have to file it correctly and make notations that I was the one to misplace the forms. I distinctly remember having acknowledged that these past days were vacation days for Greg Sanders."

Greg paled; shocked that Grissom would go to such lengths to protect him. The lead CSI had just cleared the way for everyone. Everyone except Warrick. Greg looked nervously at the tall CSI. Warrick didn't look mad. He was smiling at Grissom, relieved.

"Quit smiling at me, Brown." Gil warned. "You're not going to like what I'm about to say. The Higher-ups wanted your immediate dismissal. It took myself and Brass to convince them to keep you on. They agreed, but didn't like the idea of letting you off with just lost pay and vacation days."

"What did they suggest?" Warrick questioned carefully.

"They wanted an investigation. They wanted your job. They wanted a lot of things. Jim and I got them to settle for a demotion."

"I'm being demoted?" Warrick winced. "How bad?"

"You are now CSI Level 2." Grissom announced brusquely. "Your hours will be split between the lab and the field, equally, with no exceptions. And Warrick, one more black mark on your record and you will no longer be eligible to work as a CSI." He walked over to the door, pausing as he opened it. "I expect you all to be at work tomorrow, on time. No excuses."

Warrick was pale as he nodded his understanding. He watched forlornly as his mentor quietly left the room. He felt as if he'd just been kicked in the stomach by steel-toed boots.

He quickly surveyed the room. Catherine was still asleep. Sara was quietly sobbing into a tissue. Nick was glaring angrily at the door Grissom had just used. Greg was staring at him, open mouthed, in shock.

"Don't worry about me guys. I'll spring back. I always do." Warrick pushed away from the wall. "It's been a long day and we need to get some rest. Sara, take Nick back to his room. I don't think Gris will expect him back to work tomorrow since they're keeping him overnight. Greg, I'll take you home. We'll skip tomorrow but from now on, we train before and after work. Every day, no excuses, no exceptions. You are a part of the Game; no one is safe from the Game."

When are you planning on telling me what I saw?" Sara questioned bitterly. "I'm still completely in the dark here!"

"Tomorrow, after shift, we'll meet at my hideout and I'll answer all the questions you have." Warrick promised. "Between my friends and me, we'll be able to explain it all to you."

"So, that's it?" Greg questioned. "I'm….just immortal now? No fancy party or anything?"

"No. We may call it The Game, but it's not something to party over. This is life and death, Greg. You just train until you can fight. Then you train some more. Then you focus on keeping your head." Warrick explained. "And you try to live your life the best you can."

"What about me?" Nick questioned.

"I'm a gambling man. Let's try to beat the odds. Let's try to keep you alive long enough to begin your training." Warrick grinned. "You know, once you become an Immortal, I'll have a lot of free time on my hands. I won't be allowed to save your sorry ass anymore!"

The End

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What? You didn't want it to end like that? Sigh…..okay just a little bit more for some "closure"

(Three months later)

"Nick! You're not playing Patty-cake! Attack him! You've got to act like you mean it!" Warrick roared for the tenth time.

Sara looked up from the magazine she was leafing through to watch the two as Warrick rounded on Nick once again. She may not fully understand all that had been explained to her, but she liked the part where she got to watch hot, sweaty guys run around shirtless all the time.

"Damn it, Warrick! I don't mean it! Maybe I just don't feel like pretending to kill him!" Nick threw his sparring stick down onto the mat with such force, it somersaulted across the room until it came in contact with a very large window. The resulting shattering of glass brought Greg to his feet, having been unfortunate enough to have been laying under what was once a window. He pulled his headphones off, shaking the glass fragments off and cursing. Sara hurried over to help pick shards out of Greg.

Warrick glared at the window a moment before turning his heated gaze back to his friend. "Thanks a lot Nick! Do you realize how expensive it is to fix that?"

"I'll pay for it." Nick grumbled, feeling embarrassed but unwilling to show it. "Sorry Greg."

"That's not the point, Nick." Warrick's voice lowered dangerously. "If you won't take this seriously, you might as well just offer up you head right now."

"I'm just tired of all this!" Nick growled. "You have me hitting at people with sticks! I feel like a little kid! Hell, You gave Greg an actual sword a month ago! Why do I still have to play with sticks? I'm trying to train just as much as he does?"

"Greg doesn't have the luxury of time to train properly like you do. He's Immortal! If someone comes after him, I can't interfere, he has to be prepared. He has to be able to defend himself!"

"Shouldn't I be able to defend myself?"

"You should, but….you don't seem to want to take this seriously. You haven't been able to disarm Richie once. I know you, Nick! You can do this, if you try!"

Nick glared at Warrick, seeing the conflict in the green eyes. Warrick was worried about him as much as he was pissed at him. With a sigh, he nodded. "Okay. You're right. I haven't really been giving it my all. I will tomorrow, I promise."

"Okay, as penance, you have to go pluck glass out of Greg's butt." Warrick sniggered upon seeing mirrored looks of horror from both men.

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"So what ever happened to that kid?" Richie asked Warrick as they watched the two CSI's picking glass out of Greg while the wounded party whined and complained.

"Coy really messed with his head. He's in therapy. It doesn't help that he claims he shot and killed both you and Greg. They think he's delusional."

"Poor kid." Richie sighed, thinking of how little the boy was.

"He'll have it rough, I mean, he killed his own brother. Like he wasn't already screwed up enough after watching the sick freak mutilate his mother?" Warrick shook his head, wishing he could go back and prevent it all from happening. That kid deserved to have a normal life. Greg deserved to live longer as a regular person.

"You aren't responsible for any of this." Richie told him, reading his thoughts. "There was nothing you could have done to stop this. The weight of the world doesn't rest on you shoulders alone."

"I know, but…..sometimes life just sucks." Warrick grinned. "And then you don't die."