9) Doctor Feelgood, Meet Wall

David entered the morgue, searching for any movement. He walked over to Robbin's desk, stealthily reaching for the upper left desk drawer. He froze when he heard a noise and held his breath. He didn't hear anything else. David slowly pulled open the drawer and pawed through it. He found it suddenly and grabbed it, turned, and ran right into Doc Robbins.

David smiled, because there wasn't much else he could do. He'd just been caught red handed. Robbins looked down at the keycard David held, then back up at his face.

"David."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing with my keycard?"

"I… I need… To get something from records and you weren't around."

Robbins grabbed the card and tried to pull it away. David held onto the keycard like a golden ticket – but he was quick to realize that wasn't helping the situation. Robbins glared at him unblinking.

"I'm going to ask you again. What are you doing with my keycard?"

"I need to get into records. I don't have authorization on mine."

"Why do you need into records?"

"I need to get something from records.

"What do you need to get from records?"

"Ah… Paper."

"What paper?"

"I… Don't… Know."

"Who put you up to this?"

"No one. I just need in records."

Robbin's flipped his cane up like a cheerleader twirling a baton, and with a solid thump, landed the end against David's chest.

"What the hell is going on in there, David?"

"What?"

"Don't what me. I know something is going on in that room. I've worked here for twenty years and I have never seen this much traffic into that room. And it seems to be only the graveyard CSI. Now that I know you know something about what's happening, you're going to tell me."

"I can't," David answered quickly.

"You can and you will."

David waggled his head back and forth.

"Why can't you?"

"I… Promised."

"You promised who?"

David hesitated. "Grissom."

"Now I know you're lying. Grissom would never tell you to keep a secret from me."

"But he did! He said that he accidentally showed me, Catherine and Brass, and now the lab rats are angry with him." David suddenly realized what he'd just said. He slapped both hands over his mouth, muttering behind his hands, "That's not what I meant."

"You're going to tell me what's going on in that room, David, and you're going to tell me now."

David stubbornly shook his head.

"Yes. You are. Right now."

"No."

"Grissom didn't make you promise—"

"Yes he did!"

Robbins shook his head, starting to respond. He turned when the door open. Grissom and Catherine walked in.

"…once we get the autopsy, we can confirm if the wounds were inflicted by the attacker, or were defensive wounds. And…" Catherine's words died when she looked up.

Grissom had been reading the report as they came in. He looked up, staring at the two.

"Are we interrupting?" Catherine asked.

Robbins hobbled toward Grissom. "Did you tell David to keep a secret from me?"

"What?" Grissom asked.

"Did you tell him he couldn't tell me what the hell is going on in records?"

Catherine grimaced, closing her eyes. And the look on Grissom's face told Robbins the answer was yes.

"What is going on in records!?" Robbins bellowed.

"It's nothing illegal."

"Nothing illegal? I noticed you didn't say something about it being against employee or precinct policy."

"It doesn't exactly break any policies," David piped up.

Grissom held up his hand. "I'll handle this, David." Grissom cautiously approached Robbins. He understood how angry Robbins was right now. "Albert, nothing illegal is happening in there, but—"

"Whatever is happening made most of the graveyard lab techs mad at you. I don't think I've heard one lab tech say anything nice about you in two weeks! What is going on in records, Gil?"

Grissom hesitated.

"Just show him, Gil," Catherine told him. "He's been here longer than any of us, I'm surprised he doesn't know about it. Besides, they're already mad at you. What difference will it make at this point?"

Grissom nodded, handing Catherine the report. "Very well. David, Catherine needs the autopsy report on Cynthia Byres."

"I wanted to add something."

"When you're done with the report you two can come over."

"Okay."

"Follow me, Albert." Grissom turned, leaving the morgue with Robbins following him.

David walked up. "I guess I should have gotten a keycard from you or Grissom."

"Yes, you should have. The autopsy report?"

David went to the counter and pulled out the report. The two walked over to the table the victim was on.

#

Grissom held the door open for Robbins and he entered the vast records room. Grissom walked toward the end.

"What is this all about?" Robbins asked. The short walk had given him time to calm down.

"It's something like free therapy."

"Therapy?"

"Yes. They can voice their worries and laugh. Laughter is the best medicine after all."

"What is it? What is in here?"

"It's not really something that a person can tell. You have to see it to understand."

Robbins didn't look too pleased with that answer, but he didn't try to argue. Grissom squeezed between the filing cabinet and wall to the door. It welcomed Grissom back with a soft click as it allowed him back in. Grissom flipped the light switch and turned, expecting Robbins to be behind him. Bu he wasn't. The coroner stood in the records room staring at him.

"You wanted to know; you have to come in to find out."

Robbins took a step forward and squeezed through the space into the room. He stepped into the room, slowly taking in the writings that surrounded him.

"How long has this been here?" Robbins asked.

"I estimate at least thirty years."

"I've been here twenty and I never knew this was here."

"You can imagine my surprise when I stumbled on it. Our own piece of Las Vegas history and at this time, only a very select group knows anything about it."

"This explains why records is so popular these days." Robbins walked over to one wall, reading the poem someone with the initials AZ had written in 1978.

"It does."

Robbins shook his head, moving to confession. "I guess I can see why your lab rats are angry with you. You don't have to tell them I know. We can keep it between the four of us."

"Don't speak so quickly. You haven't read the list. I don't think anyone who's been in here can leave without contributing to it."

Robbins turned. "What list?"

Grissom walked to the other end of the room, motioning to the wall. Robbins followed, looking up at the list. And immediately the humor of it took him over.

"Do you know what all these are about?"

"Most."

Robbins read several. He pointed at one of the newer ones asking, "Who is this about?

82. "Keep on Trucking" is not an appropriate song for a victim that's been discovered in a hit and run.

Grissom smile, letting out a slow breath. "My CSI rarely do anything they shouldn't. But every once in a while, they get it in their heads to do something that is, we'll say, questionable. It's a very close run as to who does more questionable actions at crime scenes: Nick or Greg. In this case, it was Nicky."

Robbins laughed. "Nick? Nick sang that song at a hit and run?"

"Not at the top of his lungs, but loud enough that Catherine had to get after him about it and enough of an offense, he felt it needed to be added to the list."

"And eighty-three?"

83. I am not allowed to growl or hiss back at any pet found at a crime scene.

"Greg found a newborn Cayman alligator that had gotten loose when the victim fell against it's aquarium and knocked it over. It hissed at him, he hissed back. We never found it again."

Robbins laughed. "So who does this one?"

84. I am not allowed to demand of any civilian that is in the lab, "Take me to your leader!"

"Hodges."

"I'm surprised he hasn't been fired yet."

"For as annoying or difficult as he can be, he is very good at his job. I'd rather suffer through his short-comings than let him go."

"Are you sure the rest of the lab techs feel the same?"

"I'm not certain. No one's ever said one way or the other."

Robbins pointed at the eighty-five. "I know who wrote that one and why."

85. No matter how drunk I am at the time or "Here's what happened to my suit on the way here…" I still may not wear a dress to any LVPD function.

"I'm surprised Nick was ever invited to the policeman's ball again after that. It was a sleeveless dress, wasn't it?"

"Yes. And he tried to convince me he was mugged. He was so drunk he couldn't even remember his last name or what city he was in."

"He almost got fired for that."

"Yes. I wasn't too sure he'd be okay after he was buried alive. Those first three weeks were very difficult for him."

"For all of us. He was so angry."

"He fought me about getting counseling."

"I heard several of those fights, remember?"

Grissom nodded. "But everything worked out in the end."

"So these next two are… Hodges again?"

86. Never secretly record co-workers for ulterior motives, even if the motives are innocent.

87. I am not the atheist chaplain.

Grissom looked back when he heard someone coming in. Catherine and David joined them.

"Oh. New stuff!" David said.

"Oh Hodges!" Catherine said. "He almost had that rookie convinced atheists had chaplains."

They chuckled.

"The next one is Warrick's writing. What was the issue with proselytizing?"

88. No proselytizing on city time.

"He was the one that caught Hodges trying to convince the rookie he was an atheist chaplain." She answered. "Seems we have a religious theme going on here."

"We do have a lot of mice in ballistics, for some reason," David admitted.

89. Crucifying mice, even if they have overrun a lab, is always a bad idea.

"I'm glad someone finally made Bobby take those mice crucifix down. That was just gross!" Catherine said. "Have any of you seen this one Gina wrote?"

90. You may not perform religious ceremonies on dead items found at the back of the refrigerator.

"No, but I'm sure it was hilarious," Robbins said with a warm chuckle. "You're right, Grissom, this is a therapy room."

"There's no more room on this list. Where should I put mine?" David asked, holding up his chalk.

"Find an empty spot and start writing," Catherine told him.

David walked over to a wall and wrote:

91. You may not perform religious ceremonies for dead pets at a crime scene.

"Who did that?" Catherine asked.

David turned with a wide gin. "You're never going to believe me."

"Nick?"

"Warrick."

The answer even made Grissom chuckle.

"Warrick?" she asked.

"He was bouncing off the walls that night. I dunno what was going on. But he started saying a prayer over a pet that had been caught in the crossfire. It was actually a little freaky."

"He has been acting a little too happy. Guess things are going good at home."

"Alright. I have to add two," Robbins said.

David handed over his chalk. Robbins walked to an empty spot and added:

92. The medical examiner's name is 'Doctor Robbins', not 'Dr. Feelgood.'

93. "Alice does not live here anymore," does not need to be said every time you see a corpse named Alice, especially when seeing it multiple times in one day.

"You're not Doctor Feelgood?" Catherine teased.

"No." Robbins answered sharply.

She laughed.

"So," Grissom began, "When you call me back for the autopsy of Alice Keeler, I shouldn't comment that Alice doesn't live here anymore?"

"Not if you don't want to try and read my chicken scratch handwriting."

"You take all the fun out of dead people," Catherine jabbed.

"Dead people can be lots of fun without annoying the coroner." Robbins started for the door. "I won't mention anything to the lab rats, Grissom. Maybe they won't notice I was here. Come on David, we have a full house tonight."

David hurried to catch up. Catherine and Grissom stared at the list.

"What are you thinking?" Catherine asked.

"I was thinking about something I just told Albert."

"What's that?"

"I told him that our CSI rarely do anything they shouldn't. But every once in a while, they get it in their heads to do something questionable. Imagine everything we'd miss if they didn't occasionally stray."

She smiled. "Yes. Instead of having one child, I often feel I have four. Five if I include you and a public relations disaster."

Grissom chuckled, turning to her. "But would you change it?"

Her smile softened. "I wouldn't change a thing."

"Have you run the unknown substance Greg found—"

"Uh-uh!" Catherine sharply told him.

"What?"

She started for the door. "Shoptalk isn't allowed at The Wall." She stopped at the door, turning to him. "And I would have to rat you out if you broke that cardinal rule." She turned, walking out of the room.

Grissom smiled, turning. He walked over to the heart Sara had left. As his fingers touched her initials, the smile sank.

"I miss you," he whispered to the initials, then turned and left.