Title: Crash and Burn

Disclaimer: Angst, slash, violence, sexual content, language.

POV: Nick

Chapter Four: Haunting Hallways

It's been all of two days since I was released from the hospital. In that time I've gotten a lot of thinking done. My mind is full of thoughts that I can't comprehend. Part of me knows that Greg would never hurt me, and I would never hut him. Thoughts like that don't scare me; it's what I don't know that keeps me up at night. What if I did harm Greg, why don't I remember committing the crime? And what motive would he have to do me harm? None of it makes sense to me; will it ever? If I could only work these thoughts would go away and I could be free of this growing guilty feeling. Grissom said I could work in the lab for a few weeks. Ecklie, however, strictly forbade my going back to work. He didn't think I was capable of doing my job. He didn't want to risk having a loose-cannon CSI. None of it kept me from showing up at the lab and wandering the hallways that day. I wanted to hear what my friends were doing. Where they searching for Greg or trying to blame me for his disappearance?

I'm pretty sure that the receptionist called Ecklie when I entered the building. I may not have been able to work but I still had rights to the place. If he questioned why I'd shown up I could always lie and tell him I was here for something in my locker. If I didn't run into him until later in the day then I could say I was having lunch with Sara. She willingly go along with that plan. Sara and I had an interesting relationship. While I loved Greg and palled around with Warrick, I respected Grissom and stayed out of Catherine's way. Over the years Sara had become somewhat of a confidant for me, she knew all my secrets. If there was anyone in the lab I could trust it would be her.

The halls were just about empty. I believed that the night shift had fewer lab technicians and this reinforced my beliefs. I was beginning to wonder where everyone else was when I heard Brass's voice coming from Grissom's office. Curse the glass walls for their lack of hiding places, at least if I stayed around the corner I could hear them and they wouldn't notice me. I hated the glass walls, it often made me feel like I was in a fishbowl. My guess was that it kept hanky-panky out of the office. At least all the walls weren't glass, there were still a few solid ones; like in the bathroom and three of the four walls to Grissom's office.

"How goes the search for Greg? Have you found any leads whatsoever in his disappearance?" Grissom asked in a hopeful voice.

"No, unfortunately I haven't been able to locate anything," Brass replied. I could picture him shaking his head. "I've talked with nearly every neighbor and no one remembers hearing, or seeing, anything unusual that night."

At this point Grissom probably frowned. "They heard nothing? Nick said he heard a scream."

"Either the scream wasn't that loud or it didn't exist, Grissom."

Now even Brass was beginning to doubt me. If this kept up, I was going to seriously doubt myself. And if that happened, the truth would never be found. This behavior didn't fit Grissom at all. What happened to the man that listened to the science and the evidence? It seemed like he was paying more attention to speculation this time. Then it dawned on me. Grissom always said the first person at the scene was always the first suspect. That meant I was a suspect. But why the hell would I call in one of the best damn forensic teams to figure out what happened? Why didn't I just skip town?

"What about that officer that was patrolling in the area that night?" Grissom asked. A soft thud from his office led me to believe he was moving books around.

"When the call came in he was about two blocks away from Nick's house. He never saw another car or anybody out on the streets. I've gone through his record and he's a stand-up cop, there's no reason for him to be lying," explained Brass.

Grissom sighed. "At this rate things look really bad for Nick. I don't want to doubt him, but…"

"But what?"

"He's dealt with some pretty traumatic events in his life; I wouldn't be surprised if he snapped. Ecklie has been pushing me to get Nick evaluated at a psyche hospital to see if he's even fit for the job anymore," Grissom said softly. I heard the creak of the old wood as he sat in his chair.

"Ecklie wants to send him to the loony bin?"

"I guess so. According to him, the department psychologist would probably lie, saying that Nick's just fine. He wants a third-party who doesn't know the team personally. I'm guessing that way Ecklie will get what he wants," explained Grissom.

"I hear that he wants to give Sophie another try," Brass commented. "Would you be willing to work with her again?"

"She's better as an officer," and that statement ended the conversation. I knew that Grissom never really cared for Sophie. She had been too up-front and I'd seen the slightest bit of attraction in Grissom's eyes; he never believed in love on the job. His bugs meant more to him than any person on this planet, including the members of his own team. I couldn't really blame the man; I wished sometimes that my feelings were locked away deep inside. Maybe life would be easier that way. At least then I wouldn't have fallen in love with Greg and I wouldn't be standing in the hallway of the lab listening to my supposed friends talking about me like I was a criminal.

The conversation I'd just overheard made me curious; what did the others think of this predicament? Did they think that I was guilty too? Where they like Ecklie and thought I deserved to be in the loony bin? There was really only one way to find out. When I was younger my mother had taught me that eavesdropping was wrong. But in the years that I've worked this job I've come to understand that eavesdropping could actually be a good thing. It's amazing what things people will say when they think no one else is listening. It took me only a few minutes to find Catherine and Warrick. They were in garage, going over a car for another case; or did it possibly have something to do with Greg? Their voices carried well in the high-ceiling room.

"Shame that Greg has gone missing, do you think he's okay?" Warrick asked in a nonchalant sort of way.

"He was a good lab technician, and don't get me wrong, I do love the guy, but I wish that he had stayed there. The field is not his place. Had he been in the lab where he belonged, this probably wouldn't have happened," Catherine replied, expressing some distaste. "No one would have known he worked at the lab to begin with."

"You think they took him because he works for the crime lab?"

"Why else would they want him?"

"To make Nick look guilty of a crime," Warrick suggested. "Or perhaps it's the other way around. Maybe the person responsible kidnapped Greg and hurt Nick in hopes that everyone else would think Greg hurt Nick and then disappeared."

I heard someone drop something metallic and heavy on the floor. "Someone's guilty of something, that's for sure," remarked Catherine. "Can I ask you a personal question, Warrick?"

"I guess," he replied.

"Nick is supposed to be your best friend. Greg has never been of our class. So what do you really think of the two of them together?" Catherine questioned him.

I nearly barged into the room with my anger. How could she say that Greg wasn't of our class? I knew that most CSI looked down upon the lab technicians, but truth be told, we all started there. Maybe in the beginning I had found Greg a bit childish, now I found him to be a deep person who just wanted to look at the world with hope that things would get better. How could that make him below us? In my opinion, that made him better than us. Most of the time we hoped for the worst, not the best. The job changed people and it usually wasn't in a good way. I wanted Greg to stay in the lab so that the field work wouldn't sour his personality.

"How do I really feel?" echoed Warrick. "Well, I admit, I'm shocked. Nick used to talk about the women he was dating. And lest we forget, he did have something with that one prostitute, though I'm not clear what that relationship was. I just never expected this of him, but I'm not one to judge, seeing as I ran off and got married to a woman I've only known a few months."

"So you did."

I honestly believed that Warrick knew how much Catherine wanted him. I couldn't help thinking, as I walked down the hallway, that Greg and I were special. Sara wanted Grissom and Catherine wanted Warrick, but they couldn't figure out how to fit together. I had wanted Greg and I made it work. Isn't that what love was all about? I walked along, my hands shoved into my pockets, my hand hanging down. I'd thought coming to the lab would present some sort of comfort, seeing my friends and having them reassure me that everything would be fine. Instead all I learned was that they thought me guilty and crazy. I'd just have to find Greg myself, prove all their damned theories wrong; make them feel sorry for ever doubting me. And Greg.

"Nicky, what are you doing here?" Sara called as she stepped out of the break room.

I looked at the stubborn woman who had become somewhat of a confidant. "I'm just leaving, that's what I'm doing." My voice must have sounded harsher than I realized because she flinched.

"Something bothering you?"

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one who knows that I'm innocent and believes that same of Greg," I replied. "Grissom thinks the whole thing is fishy. Ecklie wants to put me in a straight jacket. Catherine thinks my relationship is wrong. Warrick thinks I'm lying. Brass says all the evidence points to me. I thought I'd find comfort here."

She gave me a smile. "You have, Nick. I never once entertained the thought that you or Greg was guilty of this crime. I honesty believe there is a third-party. Maybe even more than one person. The evidence does point to you but it's all to perfect. Why would a trained CSI not clean-up? Why leave behind the telltale signs of a murder, or perhaps something else?" She laid a hand on my arm. "I'm going to find Greg and prove that you two are innocent. I promise, Nick."

"You always were a good friend, Sara. I wish the others felt the way you did. At least now I know who I can trust."