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Greg walked through the hospital to look for Spencer right after getting his wounds treated. He had no idea what he would say to him once he found him, but he knew he needed to be there for him right now. He was still trying to comprehend what just happened to him. After asking at the desk, he finally found the room Spencer was in. He needed to get some tests done since the doctors suspected he had a concussion. Brass was already with him in the room, cautiously asking him about what he remembered.

Greg knocked as he walked in. "Hey Jim." He gave the Captain a faint smile.

Brass nodded acknowledging. "How are you feeling?"

He nodded with a fake smile as he choked back tears.

"What happened out there, man?" Spencer said with a horrified look on his face. "How could you let this happen?"

Greg walked in closer. "There was nothing either one of us could've done, he had a gun and..."

"So did you!" Spencer yelled angrily. "Why didn't you shoot first?!"

"I-I tried to, but..." Greg was quite confused over the officer's frustration directed at him.

"I'll talk to Greg later, let's focus on you now, Spencer," Brass intervened, but the officer wasn't finished yet.

"You don't 'try', you just shoot. You get training, don't you?"

Greg knew that Spencer was just angry about his partner's gruesome death, but hearing him say these things hurt, nonetheless. He just stood there, taking the verbal abuse from the officer.

"Okay, Greg, why don't you go wait outside? I'll be with you in a moment. Russell's on the way, he should be here any second." Brass got off his seat to walk Greg out, while Spencer was shouting after him.

When Russell and Nick walked into the hospital, Greg was sitting in the waiting area, instantly jumping off his seat as he saw the two. Without saying a word, Nick hugged his friend. After a few moments, Greg tried to get out of the embrace, but Nick didn't let him. He hugged him tighter. "We thought you were the one who got shot. We only heard it through the radio and Brass didn't pick up his phone. We were so scared, Greg."

"I'm fine," he replied as he wiped his tears away. "Turner died. He had a weak pulse when the paramedics arrived but..." He shook his head. "I couldn't stop it. I tried to but... I couldn't."

Brass walked up to the three. "Hey guys. I just finished talking to Spencer, he doesn't remember much but the good news is, he doesn't have a concussion. He can leave the hospital today." He put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to get your statement right away. I already asked the doctors for someplace private, we can use the doctor's lounge."

Greg nodded. "Of course, yeah. Let's go."

"In a second, I'd like to talk to Russell for a moment." He walked Russell a few steps away.

Nick sighed as he watched them walk off. "This could take a while, do you need anything? Something to eat, coffee?" When Greg shook his head, Nick added, "You look a little tired. There's a vending machine over there, I'll get you a cup of coffee." He looked at his friend but didn't get any reaction at all, he was already deep into his thoughts. "Don't move," he said before walking towards the vending machine.

Nick kept glancing over to Greg as he saw him interact with Spencer, who had just walked up to him. He put money into the vending machine, his eyes occasionally looking over to his friend and the officer. Before the coffee was ready, he heard some yelling. He needed a moment to recognize the yelling voice as Spencer's. When he looked over to the two again, Spencer had already pushed Greg against a wall. He hurried over. "Hey!" He needed to pull the officer off of Greg, as he was grabbing the CSIs shirt to push him against the wall again and again. "What the hell's wrong with you?!"

"Nick, it's okay," Greg said in a calm voice.

" 'Okay'?! This isn't okay, what is going on?!"

"Don't start anything, Stokes, because I will fight you!" Spencer yelled as he came closer to Nick.

"...Excuse me?!"

"Nick, he's hurting, he's just venting. Calm down." Greg got between the two, hoping to diffuse the situation that way. But it only agitated Spencer more.

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up, Greg?!" The officer pushed him again.

"Alright, that's enough." Nick grabbed the officer's arm, trying to guide him away from Greg.

Spencer was in no mood to do as Nick said, so he tried to punch him in the face. But he was weakened by the attack and all the crying, so Nick was able to fight him off quite easily, overpowering him by pushing him on the floor and holding him down.

Greg stood by helplessly, not quite sure how to react.

Brass and Russell were walking back, quite shocked over the sight. "What's going on?!"

Spencer didn't even fight back, he just kept lying flat on his stomach, crying. "Why'd you let this happen, Greg? Why?!"

Greg sat down in the doctor's lounge, obviously in pain. He claimed this was from the attack, but in reality it was Spencer causing him a few bruises on his back when he pushed him against the wall repeatedly. He felt like he could get him in trouble if he told the truth and he didn't want that.

"Can I get you anything?" Brass asked with a soft smile.

"No thanks, I'm fine." He sipped on the coffee Nick got him. "I just need you to know that this wasn't my fault, Brass."

"Never thought it was."

"Well, Spencer sure does. But the gun... It was jammed."

"Your gun?"

He shook his head. "I didn't bring mine to the scene tonight." He looked quite thoughtful now, realizing that if he had, Turner might still be alive. It took him a few seconds before he was able to focus again. "Spencer handed me Turner's gun, I tried to shoot at the attacker but it was jammed." He went on to explain everything else that had happened. When he came to the part where Turner was shot, his eyes watered. He tried fighting back the tears as good as he could, but once he was finished talking they came running down his cheeks. "I feared for my life as much as I did for everybody else's, I wanted to shoot, I just couldn't. You need to tell Spencer that. He needs to know that I tried to stop him."

Greg decided to take a whole week off after the attack. He spent those seven days mostly sitting at home alone and trying to avoid Nick when he came home. The two were still living at Nick's place and even though Greg had planned to give Nick his space back by moving back home, in this situation he found himself in he wanted to stay close to his friend, but at the same time he felt the need to be alone.

On day four of that week, Greg was getting ready to leave the house when Nick came home from an exhausting double shift. "Hey Greg." He looked quite surprised and happy when he saw Greg putting his shoes on. He never left the house for the last three days. "Where are you going?"

"Spencer's," he replied as he put his jacket on.

"...What? By yourself?"

He gave him a look. "It's 2 p.m., I think I will be fine."

"I didn't mean that. But Spencer's depressed and angry. And he blames you, he almost attacked you. Both of us, actually."

"I got a text from Charlotte. She's finished her report, it confirms that the gun was jammed. I'm sure Brass already told Spencer and if he didn't, I will."

"It's not about the gun, Greg. It never was. Spencer knows that it's not your fault, he just needs to put the blame on someone."

"I need him to know it wasn't my fault. I need to make sure he knows and understands."

Nick sighed. "It wasn't. I think you need to understand that before he does."

He looked away ashamed as he shook his head. "No, I know."

"It's okay to..."

Greg interrupted him. "This isn't about me, Nick. It's about Spencer. He just lost his partner and couldn't do anything about it. Isn't it normal he feels responsible, even though there was nothing he could've done?"

"...Greg, you're not talking about Spencer. You're talking about yourself. And you're right, it's normal to feel responsible, but you're not."

Greg just gave him a sad look before opening the door. He didn't walk right out, though. "...I just keep thinking about it. I dream about it. I keep wondering if there was something I could've done to change the outcome."

"...And did you come up with a scenario?"

He slightly shook his head. "There was no time to get Spencer's gun, when I realized my gun was jammed the guy was already too close."

"So what else could you have done?"

Greg's hand slid off the door handle slowly. "I just waited. I waited for this guy to kill us all. I didn't try to fight him or..."

Nick interrupted him quickly. "You described him as tall and big, he had a gun and you didn't. Had you tried to fight him, you'd probably be dead now, too."

He frowned. "Why aren't I? I mean, why did he shoot Turner, but not Spencer or me?"

"To be honest, I never wasted a moment to think about that. I'm just glad you're okay." Nick smiled at him as he patted his shoulder. "If you really want to go talk to Spencer, let me come with you, alright? You don't have to do this alone."

"So when's your next appointment with Dr. Reyes?" Nick asked, trying to sound casual, as they walked into Spencer's apartment complex.

Greg gave him a look. "Next month, why?"

"Well, don't you think it might be a good idea to talk to her about this? You're feeling guilty for something you had no power over."

"I'll be fine once I know Spencer's fine." Greg rang the doorbell with shaky hands.

Nick noticed this. "Are you okay? Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"Don't have much of a choice, Nick."

Spencer opened the door. His blood-shot eyes were evidence he had recently been crying, something that wasn't all that surprising. He was wearing nothing but boxer briefs, his hair was unkempt and he reeked of alcohol. "Hey guys. What are you doing here?"

Greg struggled to hide the shock in his face. He expected Spencer to be a mess, but this was a bit much to handle. "H-Hey Spencer. We just wanted to check on you. Can... Can we come in?"

"Yeah, whatever." Spencer walked away from the door to sit down on the couch, downing his beer. Several empty cans were lying around the apartment.

The two CSIs walked in, looking around the room. It was obvious that Spencer hadn't left his home for the last four days, either, with lots of empty food containers from deliveries lying around and his work uniform lying on the floor, probably the last piece of clothing he had been wearing. "Spencer, I... Do you need anything?" Greg asked quite helplessly.

"Like what?" the officer asked as he opened another beer can.

"I don't know, anything. I just need to..."

"Clear your conscience? There's no need to, I know you did nothing wrong. I should probably apologize to you... and you, Nick."

Greg sat down next to him on the couch. He wasn't too comfortable sitting that close to this nearly naked man. "I'm so sorry for what happened."

"Stop it, there's no need to. Brass told me about the jammed gun, and even without that I know that you didn't cause this."

"Yeah but..." Greg tried to speak what was on his mind, but Spencer didn't let him. He shut him down quick and aggressively.

"I said stop it! I don't want to hear it!" Spencer yelled as he threw his fist on the couch's backrest in anger, just a few inches away from Greg.

"Come on, get up." Nick pulled Greg off the couch. "He doesn't deserve what you're trying to do," he whispered to him.

"He's just grieving, it's alright," Greg whispered back.

"Hey you guys, you either grab a beer, sit down and shut up or leave. I'm in no mood to talk right now." Spencer was getting quite frustrated. He was angry with himself for the way he just treated Greg, but his thoughts were too clouded by his partner's death to even think about apologizing right now.

Greg sighed. "Call me when you need anything, alright? Anything."

"Hey Greg?" Spencer said as Nick and Greg were already at the door. "Do you ever ask yourself why Turner died while the two of us lived? I remember clearly that Turner was unconscious when I blacked out. You even stated so on your report."

Greg slightly nodded as he stared at the officer.

"So why did he let the only conscious one, the only one who could identify him... Why did he let you live? Why?"