A/N: Second to last chapter!  I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity.  I do own Mia, Stewart, Mikayla, and Genevieve (who kinda comes into this chapter).  Another cliffhanger, so be prepared for that... haha.  I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review. :)

Chapter 8: Don't Fight With Me, and Don't Kill Me

Mikayla walked into Nick's bedroom, finding her uncle asleep. "Nick?" she asked softly, walking over to him. He mumbled in his sleep. "Nick?" She shook him gently, and he rolled over.

"Few more minutes, Mom," he muttered, still asleep. She giggled.

"Nick, there's a phone call for you. Wake up." He opened his eyes to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. He smiled.

"Thanks." He took the phone from her, and she stood outside the room. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

"Nicholas," Genevieve answered softly.

"Genevieve. What can I do for you?"

"How's Mikayla doing?"

"Fine. Why are you asking?"

"I know she's with you."

"Yes, because I knew if she stayed close to you, you'd make her life hell."

"Very protective of her, aren't you?"

"She's my niece. Of course." He heard her sigh, and he furrowed his brow.

"Well, you know, I think it's time I explained something to you."

"Like what?"

"Something you probably should've heard a long time ago. I'm sorry, Nicky."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I over-reacted with Mikayla. I shouldn't have. Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was her age, I got pregnant."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Shut up."

"Sorry. Continue."

"You were that kid, Nicky." Nick laughed.

"You're kidding me, right?" he said.

"No," she replied. "Didn't you ever wonder why the six of us were all close in age, and then there was you?"

"Well, yeah, I figured I was an accident."

"Mom had her tubes tied after Will, seven years before you came around." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I got pregnant, and Mom and Dad were pissed. So, rather than make me throw my life away, they raised you as if you were our sibling."

"So, everyone else knows I'm…" His voice trailed off as he sat in confusion.

"Yes. We told them never to tell you."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I… just kept putting it off. I meant to."

"Why now?"

"Because, I made a mistake with Mikayla. I need to rectify it."

"I'm not makin' her go back to ease your hypocrisy." She sighed.

"I respect that. I just, need to know that she's going to be okay out there."

"I'm here. She'll be fine. I'll take care of her, and she can get a job out here."

"And the kid?"

"Will be fine as well. You wanna fix things with her, though? You should talk to her, not me. I'm not makin' her do anything she doesn't wanna do. If you wanna make things right, you gotta do it." She sighed again.

"I know."

"Look, Gen, I gotta get ready for work."

"You're going back already?"

"It's been a couple weeks. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Gen," he groaned. "Now, I'll talk to you later. Talk to your daughter."

"Alright," she said. "Be safe, Nicky."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up, sighing. He rubbed his face as Mikayla walked back in.

"You okay, Uncle Nick?" she asked softly.

"Kid, I got a doozy for you," he said, patting beside him. "And somethin' I'm gonna need your help provin'…"

"You're kidding, right?" Warrick said as he and Nick sat in the break room. "Mikayla's your sister, not your niece?"

"Half-sister, and yeah," Nick replied.

"Holy shit. How old was Genevieve when you were born?"

"Seventeen or eighteen."

"Hypocrite." Nick nodded. "Your entire family knew."

"Yeah, and they've all lied to me."

"Hey, it was Genevieve's story to tell, not anyone else's."

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't make me feel better." Greg walked in, and the conversation between Nick and Warrick halted. Even after Nick and Mia had returned to work, things were still strained between Greg and Mia. He was still angry and bitter, and she wasn't helping the situation. She was back to her angry, hostile form, causing trouble for just about everyone she worked with while everyone tried to get Greg to make amends. He kept refusing, stating that he didn't care.

But as time marched on, he felt his heart rewarming to her, slowly but surely. Only, it wasn't showing. He was starting to make amends with Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Grissom, fighting less with them. But with Mia, it was as bad, if not worse. And for that, the rest of the team, save Grissom, fought with him.

Mia walked in, and Greg turned to her, glaring slightly. She shook her head. "You know what?" she said. "I'm sick of this shit. Just fucking ignore me. Stop with the fucking glares."

"Can't help it," Greg replied. "You make me sick."

"I make you sick? Well, excuse me. I wasn't the one that fucking made me fall in love with them and trust them. What the fuck good was that for? I wish you'd have told me you were gonna fucking turn on me worse than anyone else."

"Yeah, back at you."

"I never did a fucking thing to you!"

"You paid someone to kidnap me!" Nick and Warrick exchanged glances of disbelief.

"Is that what you fucking think?"

"I fucking know it!"

"Ask Grissom. That's not what fucking happened. He was there."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever."

"I love you, Greg. I wouldn't ever do anything to fucking hurt you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire fucking life. And this is how you fucking repay me?"

"I don't actually believe a word you say anymore."

"Fuck you, Greg Sanders."

"No, fuck you, you childish little bitch! You're a liar, and a bad one at that. And when you're called out on it, you scream and yell until you fucking get what you want. Well, I'm not with that anymore. I'm done dealing with you and your childish fucking ways. You're a drama queen attention whore!"

"What the fuck are you smoking?"

"You pick fights just for the fucking hell of it. You're petty, childish, and you always draw unwanted attention to yourself with your fucking acts of God only knows what to piss people off. You're useless, and a shitload of trouble that we don't need around here. You know what? If you really wanna die, just go fucking kill yourself. Do the world that fucking favor. Just fucking end it. It'll be a helluva lot better. Just go fucking kill yourself." After drinking a cup of water quickly, Greg left the room without another word to any of them, leaving them all in a state of silent shock.

"Greg," Grissom called from his office as Greg stormed by. Greg stopped to appear in the doorway.

"Yes?" he asked, looking at his supervisor.

"Come here." Greg nodded, walking in and closing the door.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to check in with you. I've noticed you've been taking a lot of heat from the others."

"Yeah. You know, ironically enough, they're all on her side. When they hate her."

"Well, you have nothing on her, unless she did something I don't know about." He sighed, anger still boiling within him.

"She paid off her father to kidnap and torture me," he blurted out in aggravation. "Okay? Happy now?" Grissom sighed.

"Is that what Stewart told you?"

"Yes."

"And you believed him." Greg sighed.

"Yeah, I guess. Had no reason not to. He showed me the check."

"Greg, that's not what happened. That check was written after you were taken. She didn't have contact with Stewart before you were taken." Greg sighed again.

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Grissom."

"I can see that. Listen to me, Greg. I was there when Stewart asked her for the money to help him get set up here in Las Vegas. You never came up in that conversation. He showed you that check to hurt you. Anything he told you, you can't believe."

"How do I know that?" Greg whispered. Grissom almost felt bad for the kid, who was starting to crumble in front of him.

"He said all those things to hurt you, and Mia. He was angry and bitter. You love her, Greg. I know you still do. I could see it after her and Nick got shot. You care a lot about her."

"But…"

"She never had anything to do with your kidnapping." Greg sighed softly.

"I think I screwed up, Grissom," he said softly.

"How?" Grissom asked.

"We just fought in the break room, and I said some things I shouldn't have, and… I think I really hurt her, Grissom. Bad."

"Greg, you being mad at her has been hurting her."

"I know. I know. She's back to the way she used to be, and it's all my fault. But, I swear to you, I can't really help it."

"You need to get help, Greg." Tears began to roll down Greg's cheeks, and Grissom stood up and moved to the front of his desk, standing in front of Greg. "Before you hurt her beyond the point of no return." Greg scoffed softly.

"Yeah, well, it may be a bit late for that."

"What'd you say this time?"

"Well…"

Catherine followed the sounds of the sniffles to the locker room, finding Mia with her head in her locker. "Hey," she said softly, having heard about the break room fiasco from Nick and Warrick.

"Hey," Mia replied with a sniffle.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." Catherine sat next to her, rubbing her on the back. They remained like that for a few moments in silence, the only sound coming from Mia's sniffles. "Look, Catherine, I appreciate everything you've done, but I kinda want to be alone right now."

"Okay, I respect that."

"Thanks." Catherine stood up, starting to walk away before stopping.

"Mia?" Mia looked up at her. "Please, don't do anything stupid." She sniffled.

"Okay." Catherine nodded, walking out of the locker room. Mia buried her head back in her locker, continuing to cry in her solitude. After a few moments, she sniffled, setting her mind completely. "Sorry, Catherine," she whispered quietly to herself.

Greg walked into the locker room, looking for Mia. He needed to apologize, start to make amends. "Mia?" he asked aloud. No response. He saw a piece of paper taped to his locker with his name on it. Knowing it was her handwriting on the outside, he pulled it off gently, opening it up to read it.

Greg, it read. By the time you find this, it'll be too late. You were right. I'm nothing but trouble, and you guys don't need me. You've done fine without me before, and you'll continue that way. I'm sorry I hurt you. Know that I never meant to. I meant it when I said I love you, which is why I have to do this. You're all going to be better off without me. You're right. I'm sorry, Greg. I love you, which is why it's over. It's all over.