Arriving at the ER he almost had a heart attack finding Nick's curtain empty. There was no sign of Vartann or Hodges, no gurney in the room and his head reeled as his pulse rose to astronomical measurements, of that he was sure.

An orderly with his trolley in tow coughed behind him and Warrick exploded. "Where's Nick?"

The blue-clad man took a step backwards, eyes widening in shock. "Nick who?"

"The man that was in here only a couple of hours ago, you punk!" Warrick barked.

The orderly frowned, "Well Mister, a man of your apparent intelligence might have asked at the nurses' desk since all ICU-patients were transferred to the Observation ward, currently working as the ICU since a fire destroyed the earlier premises. But a punk like myself would not know that, now would he?"

"Shit," Warrick felt all the air he had been gathering to launch into a verbal fight vanish in one rushed curse. "I'm sorry man, long day, you say it's that door?" he pointed to a door at the end of the corridor with the letters OU on the green screen above it.

"Might be," the orderly said nonchalantly, not bestowing Warrick with another glance as he walked past him with the trolley, just a tad too close to be courteous.

Warrick cursed again and took aim on the door, heartbeat still hammering against his ribs.

Vartann saluted him with a nod of the head when he rounded the corner and spotted him, the detective's eyes peering over the edge of a newspaper.

"You could'a called!" Warrick growled.

"I did," Vartann replied calmly. "Your cell is off."

He dug for it in his pocket and realized the battery was dead. Humiliation was not even close to what he felt. With a look through the window into Nicky's room, he noticed Jillian sitting by her son's bed. She was leaning in towards him, lips moving and Nicky's head was tilted towards her, his one hand now lying over his chest, the other gripped tightly by his mother.

The room was smaller, all equipment still in place, but the picture he took in made his heart take another kind of jolt.

"He's awake?" he asked surprised.

"Your boy is up and running," Hodges said behind him and Warrick almost jumped. "Asked for a coffee and was pissed when the doc promised him only a sip. He's using the puppy dog eyes on everyone."

Warrick hated the flip-flopping in his chest and the silly grin he felt spreading over his face.

David Hodges, sarcasm personified, stood by his side with a Styrofoam cup and a soft expression in his eyes that made Warrick's world tilt a tad once again. Nick had gotten under Hodges skin somehow, peeling away the sarcasm and replacing it with that relieved expression.

"That for him?" Warrick grinned at the steaming mug with a straw clutched in the lab-tech's hand.

"The things I do," Hodges muttered. "The hottie at the counter looked at me like I was deranged when I asked for a straw for the coffee. Probably thinks I'm gonna caffeinate some toddler. An' I was just about to get her number."

Jillian had noticed Warrick and was waving for him to enter. Nick tilted his head and weakly lifted his hand in a salute. It was the most beautiful sight Warrick had witnessed in ages.

"Gimme that!" Reaching for the mug he grinned at Hodges's sigh as he reluctantly let go off it.

"You always take all the credit, Brown." The man complained.

Opening the door and sliding in, Warrick bestowed the lab-tech with a leer. "I'll tell Nick you blame him for missing out on that hottie."

"Hey!" The indignation was cut short as Warrick closed the door.

For a moment, he stood by the foot of the bed and took in the picture. Nick was still hooked up to an IV, EKG and an oximeter beeping away. Nasal cannula still in place and his pallor still evident but his eyes were open, sagging but open. A smile played around his lips and the hand on his chest wasn't slack anymore. Of all the things that struck Warrick at that moment, it was Nick's hand, the memory of his hand that jolted him the most.

"Hey bro," he cracked, voice horse from lack of use and tubes being put in and then yanked out. "Y'okay?"

Warrick didn't trust his voice at that moment so he simply nodded his reply.

"Tha' fo' me?" Nick asked, flicking his finger in the direction of the Styrofoam cup still clutched hard by Warrick's slightly shaking hand.

"Yeah." Warrick noticed how shaky his voice sounded and had to clear his throat while advancing and dragging the stool from the corner to Nick's bed. He seated himself and took a long good look at his bud. The head of the bed was slightly elevated and Nick met his gaze with a small smile. Warrick finally relaxed and got his mental functions back.

"Just a sip bro," he said and adjusted the straw and leaned over to enable Nick to taste the horrible concoction.

Nick glared and moved his hand to grip the cup himself.

"Uh uh," Warrick admonished, "don't even try it bro!"

Nick sent him another glare but did as told, tilting his head he closed his lips around the straw and sucked the liquid into his mouth. Then the skin on the base of his nose wrinkled in disgust and he let his head fall back onto the pillow.

"I could have told you so," Warrick grinned. "I'll have Greggo bring some of the real thing tomorrow. Don't worry, if I have to I'll swing by the lab and hijack some of the stack myself."

Jillian smiled.

"Ev'ryone ok?" Nick rasped, his eyelids sagging more and more, his voice getting weaker and weaker.

"Yeah, everyone's fine Nicky, don't you worry 'bout a thing." Too late he'd realized he'd let his hand fall to lay on Nick's chest. To cover up his embarrassment, he took a sip of the coffee and almost gagged at the lukewarm and horrid taste.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he groaned. "Hodges must have ogled the hottie for ages to get the coffee in this state. By the way, he blames you for not getting her number. I promised to tell you. Something about drinking coffee with a straw disturbed her according to our ever-charming ladies' man. For the record, I think something else scared her off, but don't tell Hodges that."
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Nick smiled. "D's cool," he drawled, eyes falling closed.

"Yeah, right," Warrick groaned. "You're delirious, get some sleep man."

"That's right baby boy," Jillian spoke softly. "Get some sleep, I'll wake you up when Dr. Grissom swings by to drive me to the airport.

Nick opened his eyes to a crack. "Still calls me baby," he mumbled and made a feeble attempt to pout.

"You'll always be the baby of the family, honey," Jillian smiled and turned her eyes to the hand she was still holding as Nick settled and his breaths deepened and slowed.

Warrick met her eyes and saw the tears gathering. "Nicky's back," he said, hand still on the steadily rising chest as a tear rolled down Jillian's face and she wiped it away with her free hand.

His voice was raspy and he felt moist gather in the corner of his eyes so he rose. "I'll leave the two of you alone for a while," he said and walked out before his mask of cool would crumble and fall. He wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Hodges had opened up a laptop and was typing as Warrick stepped out. With a look in Vartann's direction, grinning at the peering eyes over the pages of the newspaper he approached the lab-tech. "What you doin'?"

"Some of us still have to work for a living," Hodges informed him, not looking too sad about the fact. "Grissom got a warrant for us to read the personnel files. Going through the MDs right now."

"Looking for what?"

David Hodges looked at him, snorting at his question. "Anything suspicious."

"You don't have a clue what you're looking for then?? Warrick grumbled.

"No? Well take a gander at the third article!" Hodges turned the laptop and pointed at the bottom of the screen.

Warrick raised his eyebrows slightly and skimmed over the page before his eyes stuck on:

Flunitrazepam and haloperidol, a study of the intramuscular use and toxicity.

"Oh!"

"That's right, 'oh'. This Kendelton worked a few years in Bern and obviously knows his way around the European drug-market." Hodges smirked. "And then, all of a sudden he left a promising research career and took to manage Palm Springs ER? Not a career move I'd make. Did something happen in Bern? Something that can be used as collateral?"

"Okay, I get your point, but -,"

"He also took a leave of absence two days ago, says here for 'personal reasons'."

"Shit," Warrick breathed. "That's right after the insulin fiasco."

"I'm having HR page him and I've told Brass to pick him up." Hodges said, googling the names of the co-authors. "Something's gotta give!"

Grissom appeared in front of them. "Kendelton is gone, fled the country yesterday but one interesting point is that his daughter is diabetic, on insulin for 10 years. Current medication Humalog and Lantus. She's attending UCLA and the LAPD is picking her up as we speak. Bad news is that Kendelton is in Cuba, no extradition. I think we've found and lost one of the players in this orchestra."

Warrick remained seated, rigid and tense, staring at Grissom, feeling the hope he'd nourished like a sick puppy suddenly twist and shudder inside of him. It shuttered into a million pieces and died, leaving only a muffled roar in his ears. Then he rose and paced, his body so tense his footsteps against the tiled floor hurt his knees and an acute headache rose to his temples. The rage was blinding him momentarily. Words failed him as he realized that yet again the perps had succeeded in slipping through their fingers unscathed. "We're getting fucking nowhere at all. No fucking where at all!"

Hodges cleared his throat. "Well, look at it this way. If the perp's in Cuba he can't harm Nick at least. I mean, that's gotta count for -"

Warrick turned to cast a death glare at the man, who paled slightly. Sometimes Warrick really wanted to pick the smaller man up and shake some decency into him.

"Hodges," Grissom ordered. "Go get us some coffee."

"Great," Hodges muttered as he rose and wandered off. "I'm demoted to a coffee dispenser."

Grissom pointed to a chair, demanding wordlessly that Warrick sit down and keep quiet. He did so.

"Now listen," Grissom spoke quietly, looking pensively to the floor. "Things are not as bad as they seem. Sara lifted a couple of fingerprints from the B&E at Nick's place. This one was actually in AFIS; a certain Ivan Petronov AKA Slicky Pete and he is currently employed by CAP."

"What he take? Can't it just be an under-paid disgruntled employee looking for an extra buck and if he knew Nicky was laid up - " Warrick protested.

"That's just it," Grissom turned to look at Warrick. "He didn't take anything. He planted high class, FBI-issued surveillance equipment. And he probably would have succeeded too, if Jillian hadn't decided to drop by at that precise moment. The perp had to leave the cleaning up and flee the scene."

Warrick just stared, trying to make any sense of what Grissom was saying. "Who exactly is it they think Nick saw that is worth all this?"