Manhattan, New York

The sun wasn't even up yet, but Dr. Vatelli was wide awake and being very cautious as he silently carried the sleeping Maritza Boscorelli into the apartment and laid her in a crib that he had ordered sent there ahead of their arrival. Almost immediately, Maritza woke up and began to cry as if she could tell that the apartment wasn't her home and that she was among bad people. As Dr. Vatelli cursed at the wailing child, Dr. Price stumbled in sporting an annoyed look on her face and holding a tiny liquor bottle in her hand that she had stolen from the train they had taken from North Carolina.

"Can't you shut that kid up?!" Tara snapped in an irritated voice. "Give her something to make her quiet! Grind up a sleeping pill and put it in her food! I don't care! Just make her quiet!"

A banging sound suddenly filled the air and Dr. Vatelli cringed at seeing the wall opposite him being banged, "SHUT UP IN THERE!" a female voice shouted angrily.

"Couldn't you find anything better than this?" Tara asked in an annoyed tone, glaring at Dr. Vatelli.

Dr. Vatelli scoffed, "I'm paying for this out of my savings and it's getting low because I haven't been paid since I started working for McKeen," he replied in an annoyed voice. "This will have to do since we couldn't stay in North Carolina anymore. Your constant noise was alerting neighbors and they would have recognized both of us…"

Tara scoffed, but wandered off to look at the rest of the apartment, leaving Dr. Vatelli alone with Maritza and relieved that things were now quiet. Dr. Vatelli was not only relieved that it was quiet, he was also relieved that they had beaten McKeen to the apartment because McKeen wouldn't have the chance to bug it with cameras and recording devices like he had the place in North Carolina.

All they had to do was get through McKeen's upcoming visit and that made Dr. Vatelli nervous enough, as McKeen had decided he needed to be in New York for the trial and was on his way there. How he would get there without being seen and caught by police, Dr. Vatelli didn't know, but he was terrified all the same because he knew the man was capable of it.

Stupid neighbors and their loud kids. I can't ever get any sleep because the walls are paper thin in my place and I can't afford anything better. I wonder why Danny, Danielle, and Greg haven't bothered to send me any money for a better place? I gave birth to all of them and they owe me. I should go find them and ask them. Ellen Seville thought to herself as she stumbled out of her apartment and down the hallway towards the building's rickety elevator. Those kids owe me for the lives I gave them.

As Ellen approached the elevator, the door suddenly slid open and McKeen silently walked out wearing a dark suit and red tie, "Hey, you, got any change or smack?" she called out in a tired voice. "My neighbors have this screaming kid who won't shut up and I need something to relieve the migraine…"

McKeen frowned, deeply annoyed at this woman because he didn't have time to argue with an addict, but at the same time, the woman seemed very familiar to him, "Ma'am…" he began in a quiet tone, finally deciding to see if he could persuade the woman to go away so he could get on with his business.

"My name isn't ma'am, you idiot, it's Ellen Seville!" Ellen hissed in an upset voice. "And I have a migraine! I need to get something for it! If you don't have anything…!"

McKeen froze, immediately recognizing the name from the dirt he had been digging up on Grissom over the years. During his investigation on Grissom, he had come across the name Ellen Seville as being the biological mother of not only the Vegas lab's CSI Greg Sanders, but also the mother of FDNY's Lieutenant Danielle Sullivan-Boscorelli and NYPD's Detective Daniel Messer. He also knew that if he had Ellen under his thumb, he could finish the job on Grissom because Gil Grissom would rather die than let anyone else die under his watch. With Ellen's cooperation, McKeen thought, he could nail Grissom and also punish Stetler for Thomas Wolfe…as Thomas was quite angry…

And Ellen clearly didn't remember him or the fact that he had forced her to surrender her kids to their fathers, which was something he could use to his advantage.

"Um, Ellen, was it?" McKeen spoke smoothly. "I…I just moved into the building with my family and I might have something in my apartment for your migraine. Would you like to come with me?"

Ellen's eyes widened in surprise and she nodded eagerly. McKeen smirked as he led Ellen to the apartment and knocked on the door, "I forgot my key when I was going to check out the area," he lied casually as he knocked on the door. "It's me. I forgot my key."

The door opened and McKeen led Ellen inside, waiting until she was fully inside before he closed the door, "This is our neighbor, Ellen Seville, and she has a migraine," McKeen explained in a firm voice, giving Dr. Vatelli a look. "Perhaps you can give her something for it? You are a doctor, after all."

Ellen gave Dr. Vatelli a hopeful look and Dr. Vatelli glared briefly at McKeen before moving over to the kitchen cupboard. Maritza, meanwhile, continued to cry, but she was quieter as if she could sense the danger that would come her way if she continued to be loud. Deeply relieved that Maritza was finally quieting, Dr. Vatelli retrieved a sedative pill from a bottle in the cupboard and brought it over to Ellen, who quickly snatched it with pure hunger in her expression. She immediately took it and dry swallowed it before anyone could speak or offer her something to drink. An expression of relief filled her face and as she opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly dropped to the floor unconscious.

"Ellen is still as stupid and careless as she was back when I bullied her into giving up her babies," McKeen hissed darkly, spitting on Ellen's unconscious body before he glared at Dr. Vatelli. "I expect you to clean that up while I'm away and also take care of the person I'm going to be sending to Horatio Caine's trial in my stead. I got a call from Thomas Wolfe this morning…it seems he has a job for me to do and would rather I leave the trial alone. I think, however, that someone needs to be at the trial, so I have been in contact with a couple of people who I think can handle it."

Dr. Vatelli frowned, "Who?" he asked in a confused voice. "You've been on the run for a while."

"Derek Stokes, meanwhile, has been receiving treatment for his tumor in Texas and has now been deemed competent to seek visitation rights with his son," McKeen explained, smirking. "His father, the honorable Judge Stokes of Texas, has brought his son to New York and is due to meet with courts, Faith Yokas, and Captain Miller within the next few days. I still have friends in the system who have made me aware of all of this and this news will mean that Emily and Derek will be left unsupervised. I've kept in touch with Emily and she's been very anxious to see Derek and I've also kept in touch with Derek and he is very anxious to see Emily and his child. I have promised to give them what they want if they help me out…"

Deeply concerned about McKeen's sudden rogue behavior, Dr. Vatelli turned away, "I am going to get someone who will get you and Tara out of New York before the NYPD catches on to you both being here with Maritza Boscorelli," McKeen continued firmly. "He will take you to a new safehouse."

"Who is it?" Dr. Vatelli asked nervously. "I hope you're not going to kidnap someone from the trial or even from the Boscorelli family. Those people…"

McKeen scoffed, "Thomas Wolfe was very angry about his eldest son being injured in the blast, as he didn't expect that his son would actually be in that location when it went off," he stated in a cold voice. "He just wanted to prevent Tommy from coming to New York, not almost kill him. He blames one person for not watching his eldest son's movements better and I think you and I both know who that one person is."

Swallowing hard, Dr. Vatelli nodded, his expression grim as he realized who McKeen was referring to.

Miami, Florida

A CSI Hummer was already parked at the curb and Rick couldn't take his eyes off of it as the vehicle he was in pulled up at the hospital. He had been called early that morning and asked to report to the hospital to help conduct an interview and now that he was actually there, he was nervous.

"You all right, little brother?" a familiar voice suddenly asked in Rick's ear.

Rick blinked at suddenly hearing his late sister's voice and he turned to see Amanda sitting next to him in the back of the cab he had taken from Bobby's house, but she was a younger version of herself and looked perfectly sane, the same way she had looked back when she and Bobby had first gotten married, "Good luck today, little brother," Amanda spoke cheerfully, a smile on her face. "I love you."

Sadness filled Rick's expression as he gazed at the spot where his late sister sat. They had been so close during their growing up years and even when she had first married Bobby, but her time in the cesspool that was New York had introduced her to bad people, drugs, and had robbed her of her brilliant, happy mind. Her mental illness had developed not long after she had given birth to BJ and it had only gotten worse when Maggie and Adam had come into the world, creating great hardship for Bobby. He and Bobby had both tried to get Amanda out of that city and Bobby had tried to transfer to the MDPD sooner, but departmental budgets and city crises had made that impossible. They had both failed her, but Rick took the blame alone because it was his job to look after his sister and he hadn't done that…

"Hey, buddy, are you getting out here or what?" a gruff voice suddenly filled the air in a questioning tone.

Rick froze briefly before tossing two twenties at the driver and getting out of the cab with his old crime scene kit from Vegas in his possession and his wallet and his phone in his pockets. He silently made his way into the hospital through the emergency entrance and stopped at the desk, unsure of where to go or who exactly he was meeting there.

"Sergeant?" Rick suddenly heard a voice call out from behind him.

Rick turned to see Tim lingering near a set of elevators that weren't far from the desk, "Detective Speedle," he replied nervously. "I wasn't sure what kind of situation I'd be walking into, so…"

Tim nodded, his expression thoughtful, "I'll be supervising you while Horatio's away," he explained in a patient voice as he handed Rick an ID badge. "Horatio called the PD yesterday and asked them to have this made for you and this will get you access to the lab and other places the CSI's go."

Rick took the badge and clipped it to his pocket as Tim called for the elevator. When the elevator arrived, they both got in and Tim pressed a button that took them up. A few moments passed before the two got off the elevator on to a floor that looked as if it were used for patients.

"We're going to talk to Tommy Wolfe," Tim explained as they walked down the hallway. "He needed emergency surgery yesterday, so nobody could talk to him then. Today, though, we need to talk to him about what he remembers about the bombing. The lab has his clothes, and the scene is still closed off…"

Rick nodded, "What about Detective Flack?" he asked quietly. "Was he interviewed?"

"He's currently staying in the lab's sleep room with some borrowed clothes because his room and most of his luggage were in the part of the motel that was damaged in the bombing," Tim explained in a concerned voice. "He got banged up in the bombing, but he refused to stay in the hospital overnight, so Calleigh suggested he stay at the lab where it's safe…"

As they approached a hospital room near a set of vending machines, Tim suddenly fell quiet and the two entered the hospital room in silence. Tommy Wolfe was laying in bed asleep with tubes and electrodes all over his chest, some of which were covered by a blue hospital gown. Several machines and IV's on a pole surrounded one side of the bed and tubes rested in Tommy's nose, which was as pale as the rest of his face and forehead, which was sporting a bandage.

Ryan, meanwhile, was seated on a blue couch near the window wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before with a loaded gun and his badge and CSI ID on his belt. He looked wide awake and determined to stay that way. When he saw Rick and Tim enter the room, however, he immediately got up off of the couch and walked over to them, "Ryan, we have to interview your brother about the bombing," Rick spoke quietly. "I'm working under Speedle and we'll be gentle, but…"

Ryan's eyes widened in surprise, "You transferred from IAB?" he asked in a surprised voice. "Why?"

"Just returning to my roots," Rick lied nervously. "I actually used to work as a CSI at the Crime Lab in Las Vegas when Lenny and Lindsey were younger, and I just felt it was time to return to that work. Anyway, is your brother up for a conversation?"

Before Ryan could reply, Tommy let out a groggy groan, "Ryan, who are you talking to?" Tommy asked in a weak voice, not opening his eyes. "I'm really cold and thirsty..."

"Some people from the Crime Lab are here to talk to you about the bombing, Tommy," Ryan explained apologetically. "I'm not allowed to be in the room while they talk to you cause it could be seen as a conflict of interest, but I can go ask a nurse to get you a blanket and some ice chips…"

Tommy opened his eyes and squinted at Tim and Rick as Tim pulled out his recorder and pressed play, "Sergeant Stetler will be conducting the interview and I'll be supervising him," Tim explained calmly now that they had Tommy's attention.

Trusting that Tommy would be in good hands, Ryan silently excused himself from the room and made his way to the closest nurse's station to see what they could do to help his brother. As he approached the nurse's station, he noticed Tony Speedle and visibly pregnant Jill Adams come off the elevator carrying a gift basket that looked like they came from the Speedle Family Restaurant and a wrapped box, "Tony Speedle, Jill Adams?" Ryan called out in a concerned voice. "What are you two doing here?"

"My and Tim's dad heard about the bombing on the news and wanted to send gifts to Tommy and his family because he's related to Emily and because he cares about your whole family," Tony explained in a kind voice. "Stuff from the restaurant and some books. We offered to bring the gifts by because Jill has an OB appointment here anyway. Is Tommy allowed visitors yet?"

Ryan immediately felt confused at the gesture, but he didn't let his confusion show, "He's got some visitors right now," he replied nervously. "I haven't seen either of you in a few months. How are you two doing?"

Tony and Jill exchanged a look, "Tony's been busy with culinary school, and I've just been preparing for the baby," Jill replied nervously. "I'm not able to find work and my parents…they'd rather I not work while pregnant anyway, so I simply just take it easy most days and I sometimes help out at their restaurant if they need a host. I'm really fortunate to have my parents here in Miami…"

"Are you all right?" Ryan asked in a concerned voice, frowning at her. "You seem uncomfortable."

Jill let out an irritated sigh, but said nothing, "She's just struggling with the pregnancy," Tony spoke up in a concerned voice, giving Ryan a look. "Jill, honey, maybe a walk would help you feel better. I can take the books to Tommy if you want to do that…"

Before Jill could reply, Tim came out of Tommy's room on his cell-phone and talked on the phone for a few minutes before ending his call and heading back inside the hospital room. Tim hadn't told anyone, but Emily had called him and told him she was leaving the kids with his mother for a little while so she could run some errands on her own and he had told her to be careful. Jill and Tony exchanged another look and Ryan immediately grew suspicious, "All right, what are you two really doing here?" he asked in a suspicious voice, frowning at them. "You're acting too suspicious to just be here on a casual visit."

Jill sighed heavily, "If you keep being nosy, you're going to put your brother in more danger than he's already in," she replied in a quiet, but firm voice. "For your sake, I suggest you back off."

Ryan frowned, studying Jill's face briefly before his eyes widened, "You're not who you say you are," he realized in a shocked voice. "Who are you with?"

"You need to keep out of it for your safety," Jill replied in a stern, very quiet voice. "And your brother's."

Concern filled Ryan's face, "Is Tommy your supervisor in law enforcement?" he asked softly.

"He'd rather us not discuss it with you or your sister," Jill explained in a concerned, quiet voice. "If you love him, you'll both respect his wishes and just keep letting him doing what he's been doing…"

Horror filled Ryan's eyes as he quickly put the pieces together in his mind, "Is Tommy undercover for someone?" he asked in a concerned voice. "Are you and Tony Speedle reporting to him?"

"You need to stay out of it," Jill replied firmly, sighing heavily. "Please. For everyone's sakes."

Before Ryan could reply, Tony gently nudged Jill, "We should go drop this stuff off," Tony spoke in a worried voice. "We have things to do."

Nodding, Jill followed Tony past Ryan to Tommy's hospital room. Ryan watched them briefly for a moment before turning his attention to the nurse's station and the nurses there. After he had alerted them to his brother's want for an extra blanket and fluids, he returned to the hospital room just in time to hear Rick gently thank Tommy for his time and encourage him to get some rest while Tim, Jill, and Tony all watched. The gift basket and the present sat on the portable table untouched, but nobody seemed to care.

"We should be getting back to the lab," Tim spoke in a quiet voice, seeing that Tommy was tiring out and wanted to go back to sleep. "Thanks for your time. We'll call Ryan if we want to talk to you again."

Tommy exhaled softly before closing his eyes, "Diana…she's gonna freak out about this, but I'm sure Jason or Emilio called her," he spoke groggily. "Ryan, what are you even doing here? You have a baby…"

"Jason and Emilio are watching Carlos, and I call home every once in a while to check on them," Ryan interrupted firmly. "I'm staying here with you."

It was then that Tim noticed Jill and Tony there, silently looking at each other as if they were having a silent conversation, "Hey, Tony, did Dad send the basket?" Tim asked in a confused voice.

"Um, yeah, and the books," Tony lied nervously, quickly looking at his brother, but not quite meeting his gaze. "He heard about the bombing on the news, and he said Tommy had done a lot of maintenance work around the restaurant, so he wanted to send some get well soon gifts. Jill has a checkup with her OB in the same hospital anyway, something that we should actually get going to…"

Before anyone could speak, Tony and Jill silently left the room in a hurry, unaware that Rick was now watching them with narrowed eyes. He knew they had been contacted by Thomas Wolfe and asked to 'drop in' on Tommy at the hospital and suddenly felt worried because Thomas Wolfe probably blamed him for Tommy being there in the first place. No doubt Thomas would send retaliation his way, Rick thought worriedly.

"Um, Tim before you go, could you look in on Grissom?" Ryan suddenly asked softly. "I haven't had a chance to check on him since the bombing and I'm worried he's heard about it and is anxious about it."

Tommy suddenly scoffed groggily, but offered no comment about Grissom, "I'll walk you out," Ryan quickly said, knowing full well that Tommy didn't like Gil Grissom one bit. "I'll be right back, Tommy."

Only when Ryan, Rick, and Tim were in the hallway did Ryan speak, "Tommy doesn't like Grissom because of everything that happened to me and Sofia," Ryan explained in a low voice. "He felt Grissom didn't do enough quickly enough to save our lives and he's angry that I'm still getting harassed by Vegas to go back there and discuss things with them. Even though Grissom doesn't work with Vegas anymore, he doesn't like me having anything to do with him, so we don't talk about how I've been looking after Grissom since he's been in Miami. I personally think Grissom's wife, Sara, should be here looking after him, but Grissom doesn't like to talk about his wife, so we don't…"

"Um, Speedle, why don't I check on Grissom by myself?" Rick suggested quietly. "We used to work together, and I haven't seen him in a while. I know I'm not supposed to work alone yet, but…"

Tim sighed, "I'll walk you to his room and stay nearby," he stated softly. "All right? That's the only compromise I'm offering."

Rick nodded, "Is someone coming to relieve you or give you backup?" Tim asked in a concerned voice as he studied Ryan's tired face.

"Everyone else is busy figuring out the case," Ryan replied firmly. "I'm fine."

Tim scoffed, "While I'm waiting around, I'm going to call to the PD and see if I can't get you some help so you can take a break," he replied in a firm tone. "And if you won't go home, at least go see a walk-in counselor or get something to eat. This running yourself into the ground thing isn't healthy for you or your son, Ryan. I mean it. I'll try and get someone here by this afternoon at the latest."

Before Ryan could argue, Tim walked away and motioned for Rick to follow him, which he did.

Deeply frustrated with his inability to hold it together, Ryan glared at their retreating forms before returning to the hospital room and seating himself on the couch to watch his brother sleep.

"Griss, I'm gonna head back to Vegas soon cause they called yesterday and said I'm needed," Nick spoke apologetically as he sat at Grissom's bedside in Grissom's hospital room. "They're not going to put me back in the field yet, but they need me to come back cause they're shorthanded."

Grissom sighed tiredly, his expression worn, "I'm not sure why you're telling me, Nick," he replied in a tired voice. "You know I resigned from the lab…"

"You could always come back," Nick stated in a worried voice. "Now that Sara…now that everyone knows why you left, you don't have to hide it anymore. You can come home and recover around people who know you and care about you."

Grissom eyed Nick warily, "I'm not coming back to the lab," he replied softly. "I can't. And I'm not ready to leave Florida. I need to stay here and really take time for myself…"

"Grissom, you have a wife and two kids and Greg back in Vegas waiting to see you," Nick argued in a concerned voice, frowning at his former boss. "I've been getting messages and calls from Sara every day…"

Grissom sighed tiredly, "Nick, I can't even go to New York to serve as a Victims Assistance advocate for the trial like I was supposed to because I'm not well enough to travel," he replied in an annoyed tone. "Even when they let me out of the hospital, I'm not supposed to get on a plane or train. I'm supposed to rest at home with care nurses checking on me and bringing me my medicine. I can't even get out of the hospital, though, because my doctor thinks I need someone to stay with me 24/7 for a while. I've told Sara all of this and have asked her to come here with the kids, but she's made her excuses about why she can't…"

Nick gave Grissom a worried look, "Sara said she couldn't come?" he asked in a concerned, slightly troubled voice.

"I was tortured nearly to death for two days straight and you're bothering me about why Sara doesn't want to come to Miami?!" Grissom suddenly snapped, glaring daggers at Nick like he wanted to strangle him. "Why are you even here, Nick? To make me feel guilty about leaving the lab and my family?! Or are you just here to remind me about what McKeen did to me?!"

Nick froze as footsteps suddenly approached, "Stokes?" Rick's voice suddenly filled the air in a stern tone. "Nick Stokes?"

Nick turned and was surprised to see Rick lingering in the doorway looking concerned, "Rick," Grissom spoke in a surprised voice, his expression softening. "What brings you here?"

"I was just in the area," Rick lied softly before he glared at Nick. "You. Out. Now."

Nick glared at Rick, but left silently, "He's still as arrogant as he was when he was a Level 1 and all buddy buddy with Warrick Brown," Rick hissed darkly as he took a seat at Grissom's bedside. "Anyway, Gil, how are you? I heard a little bit already, but I think that was just a lot of…"

Grissom sighed, "I'm surviving," he replied softly. "How about you? I see a new ID on your pocket."

"I transferred out of IAB before they could fire me," Rick confessed grimly. "And I lied to Robert's new wife about why I did it. I said it was to look after Ryan, but that was not entirely true. I…"

Grissom suddenly looked concerned, "This is about what happened to you at Devil's Mansion, isn't it?" he asked in a quiet, but worried voice. "After Bernard Marquez beat you…"

"Grissom, I was beaten and woke up to Edward Addison raping me in the basement of that filthy place," Rick hissed darkly. "I tried to fight him off, but then someone gave me something and…wait, how did you even know about that?"

Grissom frowned, "You still don't remember?" he asked in a concerned voice. "You called Victims Assistance and…"

Rick suddenly stilled, "The memories come and go," he admitted softly. "And it's been getting worse since Erica Sikes drugged me in the Crime Lab. I even had trouble remembering I got diagnosed with Type Two when I was in New York back in December and I've never gotten my medical bracelet updated. I've also started seeing Amanda at random places and times, including this morning. I can't be head of a department when I'm having so many issues. I need to be supervised, especially after the stunt I pulled rescuing you, Ryan, Susie Barnham, and that kid. If Horatio or anyone else knew the real reason I asked to be transferred…"

"It will not end like the way it ended for you in Vegas after you tried to get help for what happened to you out there," Grissom interrupted in a concerned voice. "Warrick…"

Rick scoffed, "He came after me because I didn't put up with his bullying tactics and the only reason he got away with it is because he lied about my mental stability on the stand in court when it went to court," he hissed darkly. "It was enough to get me fired and the only one who helped me was Jim Brass…"

"Now, Rick, that is absolutely not true," Grissom replied in a firm voice, shaking his head in protest. "Brass was angry that Warrick took you out for drinks under the guise of making peace with you, spiked your drink, and then assaulted you in an alley. All of the evidence is still in a box in the Unsolved Cases department at the Vegas Lab, as the case was deemed unsolved. I was also angry and I recommended you be given a chance to start over clean in a fresh department. Brass took my recommendation."

Rick exhaled weakly, "I'm glad that bastard Warrick is dead, to be quite honest," he admitted shakily, his expression pained. "After I was assaulted, I couldn't connect with Catherine anymore. I never talked about what happened to anyone. Not even the department therapist here knows about it. It's what made me make the very bad decision to do dirty work for Ryan's father…"

"You need to stop doing what he tells you to," Grissom interrupted firmly. "How many times have you nearly died doing things he's told you to do, and he's never expressed any concern about you? I know you're scared of what will happen to Tommy, Ryan, and Emily, but they're adults now and they can look after themselves quite well. You need to stop doing favors for Thomas before you end up dead and your children end up without a father."

Rick sighed heavily, "I might end up dead anyway," he admitted worriedly. "Did you see the news today?"

Solemnness filled Grissom's eyes, and he nodded, "Thomas wanted to keep his eldest son away from New York during the trial, but he didn't want to have him end up injured," Rick explained shakily. "I don't know how he did it, but I think he is responsible for the bombing that injured Tommy Wolfe and Detective Flack. When Thomas sees the news, I am as good as dead, and I already told John Sullivan Senior that…"

"Keep a low profile in the lab," Grissom advised softly. "And stop responding to Thomas Wolfe's calls. Go to work, take care of your son, and just keep a very low profile. Also don't let yourself be alone at any time whatsoever, even if you're home. And please, Rick, tell someone about what happened to you. It doesn't have to be a counselor, but talk to someone. You came to me for counsel because I am the head of Victims Assistance and your friend, so that is my counsel to you."

Rick suddenly looked a little afraid, but he nodded, "Um, I should probably get back to work," he spoke nervously. "This is my first day in the Miami Lab and the temporary supervisor's working with me today…"

"Please take my counsel, Rick," Grissom replied in a concerned voice, frowning worriedly as Rick stood up. "Please?"

Nodding, Rick silently moved into the hallway and froze when he saw a remorseful looking Nick sitting with Tim not too far away, both of them deep in quiet conversation. Rick swallowed hard, but kept quiet as he approached the two, "Grissom said he needed to rest," Rick lied nervously, a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke. "I…I think we should get back to the lab, D-Detective Speedle…"

Tim raised an eyebrow at the tremor in Rick's voice, but he nodded in agreement and left with Rick.

Nick, meanwhile, watched them leave for a moment before he wandered back to Grissom's room to continue keeping watch over his friend for as long as he was able to be in Miami, deciding to simply deciding to let his concerns about Sara's absence and Grissom's prolonged presence in Miami go and instead focus on being there for his friend because someone needed to be there for Grissom.

"Would you like some tea?" Horatio asked in a quiet voice as he set a teacup down in the living room chair where he was sitting. "I made enough to last me the day, but I don't mind sharing it."

Emily, who was sitting in a chair across from Horatio, nodded calmly, "Sure," she replied softly. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Nodding, Horatio retreated into his kitchen and quickly returned with a second cup of tea, "It's green tea," he explained in a kind voice as he passed the cup to her. "It's got a little honey in it. I also added some to mine and I've tried to have it like that on a daily basis since my Vegas experience because it helps me get through the days."

"And how are those days for you?" Emily asked softly. "I can't help but ask since I don't work at the MDPD anymore and I don't see you or anyone else as often as I used to."

Horatio sighed heavily, his expression suddenly tired, "It's been very hard," he admitted quietly. "I'm honestly not feeling like myself again yet and I don't think I will until Jeffrey McKeen is found guilty and actually found…"

"You were there for 64 days and tortured extensively," Emily spoke in a concerned voice. "You're doing very well considering the brutality you experienced. You may not know what you are feeling right now and that's understandable with the trial coming up very soon, especially since you will have to recall what you remember of the experience in court. Admitting that it's hard is showing that you're trying to recover, though, and that's a good thing. Some people who survive what you have…they let their experiences destroy them and you haven't."

Horatio suddenly looked thoughtful, "I suppose I've just lost too much to also lose myself," he replied in a quiet tone. "There were times when I thought I was going to indeed die, but then I thought of what I already lost and how what I am doing now helps me to honor their memories."

Emily nodded, but didn't say anything, "You see, Emily, when I was in living in New York, I was engaged to marry Stella Bonasera at one point and we had a daughter," Horatio explained softly. "She…she was murdered when she was very young and it was very devastating to both of us, but that, along with other losses I've experienced are the reason I kept fighting to survive. I couldn't stand the thought of losing myself…"

Thoughts of her lost daughter Jenna Marquez filled Emily's mind as she processed what Horatio was sharing with her, but she quickly buried them because their visit was about Horatio, not her. That, and she could also feel that the man was holding things back. She did not, however, want to press him so hard for details that he would shut down the entire visit.

"Actually, while I'm in New York, I plan to visit my daughter's grave," Horatio spoke again. "I think it will help me to be able to focus during the trial. Speaking of New York, you mentioned that you had a gift for me that you thought I might be able to take along with me?"

Nodding, Emily picked up the wrapped box she had brought with her, set her teacup down on a coaster that was on the coffee table, and then brought the wrapped box over to Horatio. She then retreated to the couch and busied herself drinking her tea in silence while Horatio silently unwrapped the box. He was surprised to find a leather journal and attached pen inside along with a small book of poems.

"I'm not sure if you'll have access to a counselor up there or not or even want one, so I decided to get you a portable safe place where you could safely store your thoughts and worries instead of carrying them inside of you," Emily explained in a gentle voice. "The poetry book…"

Horatio offered a tiny smile, "It makes me think of my mother and why she named me Horatio," he replied in a warm voice that had a hint of tiredness in it. "She named me after a poet. I don't know if you knew that, but this book…this book and the journal are…incredibly thoughtful. Thank you."

Emily returned the smile, "You're welcome," she said softly. "Since we're on the subject of New York, I'll be sure to let the higher-ups know that we did have a conversation, as they will be on me to reassure them of that, but the contents of our conversation can remain confidential. I promise you that."

"I've been meaning to ask, is there anything I can do to keep them from eventually cutting your position to nothing?" Horatio asked in a concerned voice, frowning at her. "I know that's what they've been doing and I don't even believe it's due to budget concerns like they've told you. I don't know if you've talked to Speed about it or not…"

Emily sighed heavily, "We're pretty busy at home with James, Julliet, and Jesse, so we don't talk shop there if we can avoid it," she admitted tiredly. "I will have to go back to work soon, though, to pay for school for James and Julliet because homeschool isn't working anymore and public school might not be the best place for them because they're developmentally delayed. Tim told me he's going to ask you about extra shifts so I don't have to work more than necessary, but I am not letting him support our family alone. We're not able to have any more children, as you know, so I have the time to help support my family."

Horatio looked concerned, but Emily spoke before he could, "I'm honestly more worried about you at this point in time," she explained in a concerned tone. "I don't often provide remote counseling, but I can do that for you if you want that lifeline available to you while you're away…"

Emily's cell-phone suddenly buzzed and she gave Horatio an apologetic look, "The kids are probably calling to talk to me," she apologized. "I told them they could call if they got nervous about me being away and they could talk to me. Do you mind if I just take this?"

Horatio shrugged and Emily checked her phone, but as she did, she suddenly frowned at seeing it was a text from an unknown number.

Emily,

It's been a long time, my dear, but I haven't forgotten about you. You and Ryan are the reason Tommy's in the hospital fighting for his life. He forgot his place when he got close to both of you, so it's your fault he had to be straightened out. I suggest you remember who you are and apologize for stepping out of line and encouraging him to join you. If you don't, you'll end up in a worse off place than the juvenile hall you spent two weeks in when you were a teenager.

Sincerely,

Your Worst Nightmare

Terror filled Emily as she stared at the message on her phone with wide eyes, "Emily?" Horatio questioned, frowning at Emily's sudden rigid posture and pallor. "Emily, are you all right?"

Trembling, Emily threw her phone on the carpet towards Horatio, "I-I..," she stammered anxiously, unable to find the words to explain the text message she had just received.

Deeply alarmed, Horatio used the sleeve of his jacket to pick up Emily's phone and hold it as he read the message for himself. He then got up, took the phone to the kitchen, and secured it in a Ziploc bag before returning to the living room, "Do you want to make an official report at the PD?" he asked in a concerned voice. "And turn your phone over to CSI to see if they can find the origin of this threat?"

Too shaken to speak, Emily nodded and Horatio offered his free hand to her, "All right," he replied in a patient, gentle voice. "We'll take my car. I noticed you didn't bring yours and Speed's van, so..."

Swallowing hard, Emily took Horatio's hand and allowed him to help her up, "What about your flight?" she asked in a shaky voice, struggling to get her panic under control. "It's tomorrow…"

"I don't want you to worry about that," Horatio reassured her, gently squeezing her hand. "Let me just get my keys and we'll go. All right?"

Again, Emily nodded and allowed Horatio to help her walk, grateful that he was there to be of help.

"…Speedle was right, the kid's exhausted…"

Ryan stirred at the sound of a female voice and he froze at seeing Tripp and Dr. Stokes in Tommy's room, "Frank, what…" he began groggily, wincing as he sat up. "What are you and Doctor Stokes doing here?"

"Your brother is one of my patients," Dr. Stokes explained in a kind voice, offering a smile to Ryan as she walked over to the hospital bed where Tommy lay asleep covered by an extra blanket. "I got him an extra blanket, but he's not able to eat or drink yet, so I also got him a few ice chips."

Ryan nodded, "And I'm here cause Speedle called me and told me you needed a break," Tripp spoke firmly. "You've seriously been here since your brother was brought in? Don't you have a kid and a job?"

"I'm using vacation days and my nephews are watching my kid," Ryan replied tiredly. "And Emily…she wants to come, but she has two children who are now special needs because their father tortured them when they were babies and an actual baby and a husband and a part-time job…"

Tripp sighed, "When's the last time you got any sleep at night?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"Before this happened, I was working double shifts to help my family with bills because Diana's away visiting Jenny and her family and Tommy's not been getting a lot of work lately," Ryan explained in a concerned voice. "Now, Tommy's probably not going to be able to work for several months…"

Tripp frowned as Ryan's cell suddenly went off, "Oh, great, that's probably Tim asking if I'm taking a break," Ryan grumbled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and moved to the door. "I…"

Ryan's eyes suddenly went wide, and he went deathly silent as he read a text that had appeared on his phone.

Ryan,

It's been a long time, but I haven't forgotten about you. You and Emily are the reason Tommy's in the hospital fighting for his life. He forgot his place when he got close to both of you, so it's your fault he had to be straightened out. I suggest you remember who you are and apologize for stepping out of line and encouraging him to join you. If you don't, you'll end up in a worse off place than the place where you and your wife languished in pain before she died. I know all about that and I can certainly arrange for you to join your sweet wife in the afterlife if you don't do as you're told.

Sincerely,

Your Worst Nightmare

Ryan's eyes narrowed, "I just got a weird, slightly threatening text message," he spoke in a concerned voice, quickly bringing the phone over to Tripp. "What do you make of this? This person's talking to me like they know me and…they mentioned what happened to Sofia and I."

"That was publicized all over the country," Tripp replied in a concerned voice, eyeing the message worriedly. "They also mentioned your brother and your sister, though, so I wonder if it could be a relative of yours…"

Ryan frowned, "Both of our parents are dead," he replied in a confused voice. "I…"

"They're not," Tommy's groggy voice suddenly spoke, cutting Ryan off.

Ryan turned to see Tommy awake and looking at him with an expression of regret on his tired face, "Tommy, what are you talking about?" he asked in a concerned voice. "Mom and Dad are dead."

"Mom is," Tommy explained in a pained voice. "I…I'm sorry I never said anything about Dad before, but…he's very much still alive."

Ryan's eyes widened, "Emily killed him, though, and I was a witness to it," he replied in a confused voice, suddenly feeling shaky on his feet. "I remember that she did it after she caught him molesting me..."

"Do you really think Emily would have only gotten two weeks in juvenile hall if she had actually killed Dad, Ryan?" Tommy questioned him tiredly, wincing as pain suddenly shot through his healing body. "He arranged everything…"

Tommy suddenly broke out in a coughing fit and continued wincing, prompting Dr. Stokes to hurry to his bedside with her stethoscope out, "I've got a little tightness in my chest," he breathed anxiously.

"Just take a slow breath," Dr. Stokes instructed softly. "You might be having an anxiety attack."

Tommy obeyed as the machines blipped, "Your heart's beating a little faster than normal," Dr. Stokes observed as she checked his heart. "I think it's time for you to take some pain meds and sleep. No more visitors for a while. This line of conversation…"

Without warning, Tommy threw up all over his gown and the bed and anxiety immediately filled Ryan, "You're okay," Dr. Stokes spoke in a gentle, but firm voice as she pressed the call button. "Frank, can you please take Ryan for a walk? We'll need privacy when nurses get here…"

As Tripp led Ryan from the room, several nurses came past them, but Ryan barely noticed them because he was processing what Tommy had told them about their father still being alive. He leaned against a wall across from the vending machine and silently stared off into space, deeply pained at both Tommy's revelation and Tommy's reaction to sharing the news. Why had Tommy kept it from him?

"I'm not normally one for keeping secrets, but I don't think this is something you should tell your sister…at least not right away," Tripp's voice suddenly filled the air in a concerned tone.

Ryan frowned at Tripp, "I can't keep this from her," he replied in a concerned voice. "She…"

"Look at how you're taking it," Tripp replied in a concerned voice. "How do you think she'll take it especially since she thinks she killed him? And the entire PD knows about it. They're…"

Ryan's frown deepened, "Is that why her position's being cut?" he pressed. "Because of her past?"

"It's the gossip around the PD," Tripp admitted grimly. "I didn't want to tell you."

Ryan sighed heavily, "I have to clear her name, but I don't know enough about the situation with our father myself to answer any questions she might have and you saw what talking about it did to Tommy," he spoke in a concerned voice. "What's clear is that Tommy obviously stayed with our father and suffered for it…"

Before Tripp could reply, Dr. Stokes walked over to them, "We've got Tommy in a clean gown and clean bed, but he won't let me administer a sedative or allow himself to be intubated so his body can have a chance to heal undisturbed," she explained in a concerned voice. "He promises he's calm, but his vitals…"

Ryan didn't hesitate: he returned to the room and sat in the chair beside Tommy's bed, taken aback that his brother was trembling with his eyes closed, "Tommy…" Ryan began softly.

"No," Tommy replied faintly. "I need to be able to communicate. I can't have that taken from me…"

Dr. Stokes immediately came in, "I can fit you with an oxygen mask," she offered softly. "Only, though, if you relax. I won't sedate you against your will, but you need to relax…"

"That will work," Tommy replied weakly. "Can I have my phone? I…I should talk to Diana."

Ryan sighed, "It's part of the evidence that's at the lab, but you can use mine," he offered as he quickly hid the threatening text message. "Do you want me to stick around while you make your call?"

Tommy nodded, his breathing easing considerably as Ryan handed his phone over. Tommy dialled Diana's cell-phone and waited, not noticing that Tripp and Dr. Stokes were giving each other worried looks because Ryan was pushing himself more than he should even though it was helping the situation.

Las Vegas, Nevada

It was early, but Diana Wolfe was awake and sitting up in the bed in the room she had been given by Greg and Jenny while she was staying with them to help them look after Jessica and Matthew and the coming baby. She and her husband had hit a rocky patch months ago and so she had come to Vegas to help Jenny and Greg, hoping that she space would help her and her husband heal their marriage, but now…she found herself regretting that she had ever left. She hadn't needed to leave.

Tommy had written, he had emailed, he had called, and his communication had been nothing but respectful while she had been away, so Diana found herself troubled as to why she had left and why they had hit the rocky patch in the first place. He had just stopped talking to her one day and had just instead suddenly become very protective about everyone's whereabouts and had responded defensively when she questioned his behavior. She had argued that she felt stifled by his behavior, and she had promptly left for Vegas, claiming that she needed 'space.'

And now, Diana felt uneasy, a feeling that had been with her since the day before…

As Diana sat there, silently trying to decide whether or not to call home or just go home to make things right, the cell-phone that sat on the nightstand rang. She quickly picked it up and frowned when she saw that it was Ryan's number: why would Ryan be calling her? Unless…

"Diana Wolfe speaking," Diana spoke in an anxious voice as she answered. "What happened, Ryan?"

A sniffle filled the air, "Diana," Tommy's tired, groggy voice suddenly filled the phone. "Diana…have you seen the national news yet?"

"I've been too busy with our grandchildren and daughter to watch the news," Diana replied in a confused, slightly concerned voice. "Why are you calling on Ryan's phone and why…are you crying?"

Tommy sighed, "Di, I was on a maintenance job yesterday at a motel and a bomb went off there," he explained shakily. "I got hurt really badly. I'm in the hospital right now. I love you…"

Diana's eyes widened with horror, and she shot out of bed like a rocket, pulling the phone off the charger and pressing the speaker button before she threw it on the bed so she could dress and pack to go home, "What hospital are you at?!" she asked in an anxious voice. "I'm catching the next plane!"

"I honestly don't even know," Tommy admitted shakily. "I had some pretty serious surgery yesterday and I'm still kinda feeling out of it. Ryan's been with me the whole time, so he probably knows more than I do…"

Tears filled Diana's eyes and she whimpered as she quickly changed into street clothes. The noise alerted Greg, who was just getting in from work, and Jenny, who was just getting up for the day, and both showed up in her room, "Whatever issues we might have, we can settle them there and do it together," Diana spoke in an anxious voice. "I'm catching the next plane and coming home. I…I love you."

"What happened to Daddy?" Jenny asked worriedly, quickly catching on that something was wrong.

Diana sighed anxiously as she began throwing her things in her suitcases, "He was hurt on a maintenance job and I need to go back to Miami and be with him," she explained in an anxious voice. "I know Greg can't get time off to go anywhere right now, so you should stay with him. I'll call when I have news. Can one of you get on a computer and get me a flight, please?"

"I'm getting kind of sleepy, Diana, so I'm gonna go," Tommy spoke groggily. "I love you."

A click sounded and Diana sighed anxiously, "If you and Jenny want to visit down the road and want help getting time off, Greg, you can always ask me to help you with that legally," she spoke anxiously. "I can't represent you, but I can get my colleagues to help you. You shouldn't have to be blamed for Grissom's mistakes just because you two are blood related."

"The lab is in chaos right now because Lieutenant Caine got a cease and desist placed on them so they can't harass Ryan for a while," Greg explained tiredly. "It's probably best that I don't ask for anything right now, especially given that I already have blemishes on my record because of my hearing issues and the A.A. meetings I've been attending during my dinner breaks. It's been rougher than normal lately, so I've upped my meetings to twice a day…"

Jenny immediately gave Greg a hug, "Why don't you get some sleep and catch a meeting at lunch?" she suggested softly. "I can help my mom book a flight back to Miami and then I'll take care of Matthew and Jessica this morning."

Offering Jenny a grateful look, Greg nodded and left the room, "I hope Greg gets a break soon," Diana commented worriedly. "I also hope that lab gets a new leader. That Catherine Willows does not know how to lead and after I make sure Tommy's okay, I'm going to look into getting them to stop harassing Ryan about Sofia. In the meantime, though, I need to pack and go home…"

"I'll book your flight," Jenny spoke in a concerned voice. "Just let me get my laptop."

As Jenny left the room, Diana stopped packing and dialled Emily's number on her phone.

Miami, Florida

The lab's sleep room was quiet, and the quiet was something Flack found himself grateful for as he sat on a bed near the door wearing business casual civilian clothes and shoes that the NYPD had sent him money for once news of the bombing had made its way back to New York. The only things that had been released to him since the bombing had been his ID and his badge. His phone and his wallet, like Tommy's were both still in Evidence, and his luggage had been severely damaged along with his hotel room. He had been sent to the PD following the bombing and less than 12 hours later, Detective Tripp had sent Dr. Pride there as well. They hadn't spoken to each other, as Dr. Pride had spent her time resting, writing in her journal, and simply speaking to the uniformed officers that had been assigned to guard the sleep room when it came time to order their meals in, as they assisted with inspecting meal deliveries and escorting them around the lab when they needed the bathroom or to talk to someone in-person or on the phone.

Flack hadn't gotten more than a concussion, a head gash, and heavy bruising in the bombing, but the hospital had tried to make him stay anyway for monitoring because they were concerned of a recurrence of the injuries he had received in a bombing years ago, but he had refused to stay. In retaliation, they had arranged for him to stay at the lab's sleep room under surveillance while his things were processed. That way, if he did end up having issues, he would be within reach of help.

Mostly, though, Flack was tired and shaken because Tommy Wolfe had taken the brunt of the blast for him after confessing to him that he had been in the FBI since he was 18 due to his father's insistence. The issue with that, though, is that Flack knew Thomas Wolfe to be long dead because the 'Wolfe Family Case' was still talked about in New York from time to time, even by his own late father…

Pain suddenly shot through Flack's body, prompting him to wince and lay back on the bed he had been assigned for the duration of his stay, "Do you want me to ask the uniforms for some ice or…" Dr. Pride's voice suddenly filled the air in a concerned tone. "I'm not allowed to prescribe anything."

"I had some issues with alcohol before I came here," Flack replied in a pained voice. "I don't want anything. It'll fade in a bit."

Dr. Pride scoffed, but returned to her nearby bed, "Why was I put here and not just arrested early?" she asked in a confused voice. "I'm probably going to end up arrested when we go back to New York anyway if Vegas doesn't get me first. I raped Greg Sanders, and then helped Ivan Sarnoff and Ray Caine and Jill Adams take Horatio Caine from Louisiana to Las Vegas when they came to me in August 2006. I also stole antibiotics from several clinics in Vegas using fake credentials and I helped torture the man. I also practiced medicine with a suspended licence…"

Flack turned his head toward her, a confused expression on his face, "You didn't have a license when you helped kidnap Lieutenant Caine?" he asked in a confused voice.

"I snuck out of my safehouse to provide care for Anya LaRusso and her baby," Dr. Pride admitted softly. "She's been having a hard time lately because she's worried about her brother. He's still in New York, but he's by himself and she's worried McKeen is going to kill him for flipping on him. That's part of why Detective Tripp dumped me here. He caught me sneaking out once and said if I did it again, he'd arrest me and report me. I'm assuming that's why I'm here now…"

Flack scoffed, "You're here cause Tommy Wolfe and I were in a bombing yesterday and nobody wanted anything bad to happen to you before you testify against McKeen in New York," he explained in a tired voice. "Nobody wanted you flying alone either, so I was sent to escort you."

"When I'm officially arrested, do you think they'll let me keep writing my sons?" Dr. Pride asked softly. "Greg doesn't mind me writing Matthew right now, but Michael's in New York and I saw him daily before this happened. It might be hard for me to write either of them when I'm locked up cause I could get the death penalty for my crimes."

Flack frowned, "How did Anya LaRusso get off?" he asked softly. "I heard she was involved…"

"She and her brother, Pavel, gave evidence about their involvement and also provided virtual testimonies regarding the involvement of others that were strong enough to absolve them of jail time, but Pavel is also planning restitution of his choice, but I don't know what that is," Dr. Pride explained softly. "He has what his father left him, which is quite a bit, and he works hard…"

Flack nodded and suddenly winced again, the pain refusing to fade. He sighed and slowly got up, "I think I'll go ask for some ice," he spoke quietly, suddenly feeling nauseous as he moved. "Excuse me."

Ignoring the nausea, Flack silently made his way out of the nap room and found that no uniforms were currently at the door like they were supposed to be. Deeply concerned, Flack made his way down the hallway towards the break room and as he rummaged through the break room fridge for some ice, another blast of nausea hit him and he quickly leaned forward into the freezer in hopes that the cold would help him feel better. Footsteps suddenly filled the air, but he ignored them and instead took a deep, calming breath.

"Detective Flack?" an uncertain voice suddenly spoke. "What are you doing? Are you all right?"

Flack exhaled before moving out of the freezer, immediately frowning when he saw someone he didn't recognize standing there wearing an ID on their shirt pocket. He immediately reached for his side to grab his gun so he could defend himself, but then remembered that his gun was in with the rest of the evidence collected from the motel bombing. Walter, who had been on his way to start processing the evidence now that it was now all officially cleared for processing, froze and frowned as Flack again cringed and gagged, "Detective Flack, I'm Walter Simmons," Walter explained nervously. "I'm a Level 1 CSI. Are you okay?"

"I needed some ice and nobody was around," Flack replied nervously. "I'm starting to feel a bit sore and nauseous..."

Walter frowned, "I can see if Doctor Loman's still around to check you out if you don't wanna go to the hospital," he offered in a worried voice. "I was going to start processing the stuff from the bombing, but it can wait til I get you some help. He's probably down in the morgue…"

"Um, I'd rather not go down there," Flack replied nervously, immediately thinking of Jessica Angell's body and the fact that her death triggered his struggle with alcohol. "I…I have an aversion to morgues."

Walter immediately looked concerned, but nodded, "I can go have the desk call him up here," he offered in a worried voice. "If you just want to have a seat on the couch…"

"I'm just a little scared that this will get back to my sergeant in New York and it'll be used as an excuse to let me go," Flack admitted nervously. "I was already on thin ice with him before I left and he doesn't like the fact that I was drinking. He risked a lot of his popularity with the high-ups to keep me on the job and if I can't hack it on this job, he just might…"

The sound of the elevator doors opening suddenly filled the air and Flack cringed, quickly gripping both sides of his head before promptly vomiting on the floor. Alarmed, Walter quickly helped Flack walk over to the couch and sat him down, "Did someone get sick in here?" a concerned voice suddenly called out.

"I'm in here with Detective Flack, H!" Walter called out in a concerned voice. "We need Doctor Loman up here!"

Flack was surprised to see Horatio arrive in the break room a few moments later with a concerned Emily at his side, "Detective Flack?" Horatio questioned in a concerned voice. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Flack admitted quietly. "I was relaxing in the nap room and I just started feeling pain and when I got up to ask for some ice from the uniforms, I started feeling nauseous. Nobody was around, so I came in here myself. Doctor Pride's still in the nap room, but…"

Horatio nodded, his expression full of concern, "He doesn't want to go to the hospital or down to the morgue, H," Walter cut in in a worried tone. "I don't know where everyone else is. I was just on my way to start working on the evidence from the bombing. What we have has been cleared…"

"Well, you should probably find Detective Caine," Horatio replied in a concerned voice. "He's in charge of the bombing case. I'm here working off the clock on another situation."

Walter frowned, "What about Detective Flack, sir?" he asked in a concerned voice.

Before Horatio could reply, the elevator dinged again and he immediately went into the hallway just in time to see Tim and Rick come into the lab, "Speed, Rick," he greeted them in a concerned voice.

"H, what are you doing here?" Tim asked in a concerned voice. "Don't you fly out tomorrow?"

Horatio nodded, "I do, but I had a sudden case come up that needed my attention, and you can't work on it because it would be a conflict of interest," he explained in a concerned voice. "I want you to keep supervising Rick, please. I assume Bobby and Eric are still working on the scene? Are Calleigh or Natalia available?"

"Natalia called in sick this morning and I don't know where Calleigh is," Tim replied apologetically, frowning. "What case are you working on?"

Horatio frowned, "Tim?" Emily's voice suddenly filled the air. "Tim, honey, is that you?"

Tim frowned as Emily emerged from the lounge looking concerned, "Emily was dropping a gift off at my home before I left tomorrow when she received a threatening message on her phone," Horatio quickly explained firmly. "I'm going to be investigating and seeing if I can't trace the source of the threat before I leave. I'm going to take this to the AV Lab and I'd like Emily to talk to someone…"

"I can page Calleigh while I watch Rick transcribe Tommy Wolfe's interview," Tim replied firmly.

The sound of retching suddenly filled the air, prompting Emily to hurry into the break room. A moment later, Dr. Pride, who had heard the vomiting all the way from the nap room, came rushing in, "When's the last time you had any water, Detective?" she asked firmly. "Did you even eat breakfast this morning? I didn't see the uniforms bring you anything."

"I didn't feel like eating," Flack admitted shakily. "Probably a bad idea."

Dr. Pride nodded, "In your case, very bad," she replied firmly. "Is there a doctor on site with an active license? Detective Flack is dehydrated at the very least and probably has some injuries from that bombing that are finally making themselves known."

"I told you already, I don't want to go back to the hospital or down to the morgue," Flack argued in a pained voice. "Please."

As the argument continued, Emily returned to the hallway just in time to see Horatio take the bag holding her phone out of his pocket while Rick and Speed were nowhere to be found, "Detective Flack needs a licensed doctor," she stated in a worried voice. "Do you mind if I go to the desk and see if I can get a hold of Doctor Loman or someone to come help him here? I used to work with Detective Flack and if he says he doesn't want to do something, nobody will be able to make him."

"Do you feel that Detective Flack is in a state where he's capable of making his own medical decisions right now?" Horatio asked in a concerned voice. "If you feel his judgment is impaired, you can…"

Emily sighed, "Then it would fall to his proxy to decide for him and I'm pretty sure that's not me," she replied in a concerned voice.

"However, you are a professional who can judge competency," Horatio replied in a concerned voice.

Emily suddenly looked uneasy, "What, and have another law-enforcement official retaliate against me like Officer Delko did when I said he wasn't ready to come back?" she asked in a concerned voice. "I didn't want to even mention it to you or to anyone, but it was Eric Delko's complaints that led to me getting my hours at work cut. He also stole my file, made copies, and has kept the copies. I hear the gossip about my past everywhere I go in the department, and someone even mentioned seeing part of my file that Delko showed him…"

Horatio suddenly felt guilty, as he had been the one to judge Eric as ready to return to work and had overruled both Emily and Rick's concerns because he wanted Eric to have some routine in his life and have something to hold on to after Marisol's death. Before he could reply, Emily silently moved away from him to the front desk because she knew she couldn't waste time trying to reason with Horatio about Eric when Flack was struggling with medical issues and needed medical attention.

Swallowing hard, Horatio silently took the phone to the AV lab and began using the equipment to try and trace the source of the threatening text message. He knew he had angered Emily with his inability to properly discipline Eric, but he hadn't wanted to do anything drastic considering Eric's brain injury and the loss of Marisol. Emily's recent revelation, however, had shaken him to the point where he knew he would have to either discipline Eric himself or refer the situation to IAB and he didn't know how his nephew would respond to it, as he himself had been bullied out of the Crime Lab by Eric and his tolerance for the man's antics was low.

The computer suddenly beeped and Horatio frowned at seeing that the origin of the call was New York, "New York?" Rick's voice suddenly filled the air. "Is that Detective Speedle's cell-phone?"

"Rick, I thought you were reviewing your interview with Tommy Wolfe," Horatio replied in a concerned voice, turning to look at Rick worriedly. "And where…where is Speed at?"

Rick sighed, "Speedle's talking with his wife at the desk," he revealed. "And the interview was somewhat limited. We didn't get very far because Tony Speedle and Jill Adams showed up claiming they had a delivery from Anthony Speedle's restaurant. I, um, also need to put myself on report for breaking protocol because I asked Speedle for permission to visit Gil Grissom before we came back here. Gil and I used to be colleagues in the Vegas Crime Lab and I wanted to see how he was."

Horatio's eyes narrowed in concern, as he felt that Rick wasn't telling him something, "I don't see any harm in that," he finally replied gently. "Anyway, this is Emily's phone and the source of the text she received seems to be New York. Do you have any insight into who from there might be…?"

"Yes, but you're not going to be able to trace the source of the text," Rick replied in a grim voice. "If it's who I think it is, they used a burner phone and will get rid of it once they get their message across."

Horatio frowned, "Who do you think it is, Rick?" he asked in a concerned voice. "I need to know."

Manhattan, New York

Holly was in ICU recovering from Monte's birth and her hysterectomy and Baby Monte was in the NICU, but Carlos was stuck working as a nurse for a mobile clinic in Central Park while Kylie and Tommy were in school so he could keep food on the table. He wanted desperately to be at Holly's side, but the job at the clinic came up and he had to take it, as there were bills that needed paying and Holly had encouraged him to go work, telling him she loved him.

Carlos had been hard at work since early that morning and he was finally taking a break to not only eat a lunch that Tommy had packed him, but also text his family at their various locations to make sure they were doing okay. As he was eating and texting, he saw a message suddenly pop up from an unknown sender, a message that prompted him to freeze and immediately sit down on the step of the mobile van he was helping run.

Dear Carlos,

I'm not sure if you've heard of me or not, but I have most certainly heard of you. You had better keep your friends close, be good to them, and not cause any trouble or else I will make it my life's mission to see that you are arrested and charged with murder for euthanizing Bernard Marquez in Miami…

Carlos's mouth went dry and he suddenly felt nauseous. He quickly rose and began to walk, not stopping until he reached Bosco's precinct. It didn't take him long to find Bosco at his desk.

"Bosco, um, do you have a moment?" Carlos asked nervously, unable to look the man in his face as he approached. "I was working in a mobile clinic today when I got a threatening text message that mentioned what happened between Bernard Marquez and I in Florida. Can you handle it?"

Frowning, Bosco held his hand out for the phone and read the message before shaking his head, "This needs to be addressed by the Crime Lab cause they have all the technology to know where the message came from," he replied in a concerned voice. "I can take your statement, but…"

"Bosco, please, I can't make this into a thing," Carlos argued nervously. "Holly's recovering in ICU, Monte's in the NICU, and I have to be available for when Tommy and Kylie get out of school..."

Bosco gave Carlos a worried look, "Is that why you haven't called since yesterday?" he asked worriedly. "You could have left Tommy and Kylie with us and gotten some rest."

"I didn't want anyone to think I couldn't handle my kids," Carlos replied nervously. "It's bad enough that I can't get a permanent job because of what happened. I don't want people to think…"

Bosco quickly got up from his desk, "This happened to us back in July 2005, Bosco, but it's still haunting me now," Carlos admitted shakily. "If I ever get too cold, I feel like I'm being drugged with morphine by Dimitri LaRusso all over again. I wish I had done more to say no..."

"Did you ever seek long-term counseling for that?" Bosco asked in a concerned voice, deeply worried for his friend.

Carlos sighed, "I'm just trying to move on from it," he replied nervously. "But I can't seem to."

"Look, man, let me call Detective Taylor from CSI about this and he can help," Bosco spoke in a concerned tone. "I can also take your report and then get Danielle, Sully, or Yelina to grab your kids from their schools when they're done for the day so you can catch a break. All right?"

Swallowing hard, Carlos nodded, "Have a seat," Bosco spoke softly, gesturing to the empty chair at his desk.

Carlos obeyed, but said nothing because he wasn't sure if listening to Bosco would actually help him.

Miami, Florida

Tommy Wolfe had only recounted the basic details of what had happened prior to the bombing during the interview at the hospital, claiming that he had been doing some maintenance work in the bar of that hotel when Detective Flack had come in and the two had gotten to talking before the bomb had gone off. It was the story that was on tape, but Rick knew that story was a lie because he knew that Tommy Wolfe was really in the FBI like his father, under his father's watch, and only did maintenance work as a cover. He also knew that Tommy had been assigned to supervise Jill Adams and Tony Speedle, both of whom were underlings to keep watch on Ryan Wolfe and Gil Grissom.

The problem, Rick knew, was that he had to pretend like Tommy's taped interview was the real story and that the bombing was simply a random act or he risked attracting trouble not only for himself, but many others. If anyone else found out that he knew Tommy's real identity, though, he risked losing his job at the lab and attracting the wrath of Thomas Wolfe for again endangering his children.

"How's it going in here?" Tim's voice suddenly filled the air. "I see you found a lab coat."

Rick sighed tiredly, "It's a bit big, but I don't have one here yet," he replied quietly. "And I'm just analyzing what Tommy Wolfe said before I was interrupted. Did you comfort your wife like you wanted to?"

"Doctor Loman and paramedics showed up to help Detective Flack and Emily's sitting with him while Horatio analyzes her phone," Tim explained in a quiet voice. "Doctor Pride's back in the nap room. Um, now that we're by ourselves, I wanted to ask you something. While you were visiting Grissom today, Nick Stokes mentioned that he thinks you need counseling from a professional instead of bothering Doctor Grissom, but he didn't go into details. Did something happen in Vegas that's not on the record?"

Rick paled and immediately stopped reviewing the transcript and the recording, "Stokes should really mind his own business, especially when it comes to situations that involve his friends!" he snapped coldly, scowling as he looked at Tim. "I'm not interested in sharing about what got me fired from that lab and have it get me fired from this lab! I also know if I tell you anything, it'll end up as gossip fodder between you and your friends and Horatio!"

Tim froze, but before he could reply, Eric came storming in, his eyes and expression full of fury, "Where do you get off yelling at Speed as if you own the place, Stetler?!" he snapped, getting in Rick's face.

Rolling his eyes, Rick silently moved past Eric and into the hallway because he was determined to give Delko grace due to his brain injury, plus the confrontational behavior was currently triggering memories of how Warrick used to treat him and he needed a moment to calm himself before returning to work. What he didn't see, however, that Delko's shouting had attracted the attention of Horatio, Walter, the newly arrived Calleigh, the paramedics who were there helping Flack, Dr. Loman, Flack, Emily, Dr. Pride, the uniform who was guarding the nap room, and that Tim was following after him because he was concerned about the man. Unfortunately for Rick, Eric was also following him because he perceived the walking away as a show of arrogance and he wanted to finish the conversation. Some of the crowd that had gathered also had their phones out and were recording the two, curious as to where the conversation might lead.

"I asked you where you get off yelling at Speed as if you own the place?!" Eric repeated angrily just as the elevator door opened and Robert, who had finished parking his truck after sending Eric to the lab, froze at seeing everyone gathered around Eric and watching as the man yelled at an obviously uncomfortable Rick. "You don't belong here! I heard you got fired from the Vegas Lab before you came to Miami! Why would Horatio agree to hire you in the Miami Crime Lab after you got fired from the Vegas Crime Lab and after you got fired from being head of IAB?!"

Whispers filled the air and Rick grew angry, "Do you want to know why I was fired from the lab in Vegas, Delko?!" he shouted. "I was bullied, drugged, and raped by Warrick Brown and then made to look incompetent at the case's preliminary hearing despite the evidence being clear that it happened. Rather than defend me, the Vegas Sherriff at the time then forced Jim Brass to fire me because they just wanted the mess I made to go away and everyone stood by Warrick and his statement that I got careless while drinking off duty! I was the guy who didn't fit in, so what I had to say didn't matter! I was the quiet one, the one who was told I didn't belong there, and the one who was told I didn't connect to the people I was helping, and that the only way I would know how a victim felt was to have my own bad experience…!"

Realizing what he had just blurted out, Rick fell silent and gazed at the crowd briefly before storming off in the direction of the restrooms, "Delko, go wait in an interview room right now!" Robert snapped, shocked and angry that Eric had pushed Rick into revealing something so painfully personal about his past in front of most of the lab. "Anyone who might have recorded that incident had better turn their phones in to Officer Duquesne right now or they will be suspended!"

As people rushed to hand their phones to Calleigh, Robert walked over to Horatio, "Delko's getting suspended without pay while you're in New York," Robert spoke sternly. "What he did just now was completely inappropriate and I have to lay down the law. If you have any issues with that…"

"No, I don't," Horatio replied in a concerned voice, his expression filled with alarm because he was caught off guard by Rick's revelation. "My only concern right now is for Rick. I can handle settling things down here if you and Speed want to go make sure he's all right. I'll make sure Eric knows he's suspended per IAB's order, all right?"

Tim silently moved off, "I'll go first," he spoke softly, his face filled with concern.

Robert exhaled anxiously, "I don't think Rick ever told anyone in Miami about this," he replied in a worried voice. "What was Nick Stokes thinking, telling Detective Speedle…?"

"He wasn't," Horatio finished grimly, sighing before he moved over to Calleigh. "Calleigh, do you have all of the cell-phones?"

Calleigh frowned as she continued collecting phones, "Hey!" she shouted, suddenly noticing an employee using their phone. "Detective Caine ordered all phones be handed in immediately!"

Michael Travers scoffed, "I just thought CSI Wolfe should know the kind of psycho he's friends with!" he replied in a cold voice, his eyes widening as Horatio quickly snatched his phone while Robert moved off to the bathrooms. "HEY!"

Giving Michael a dirty look, Horatio handed the phone to Calleigh before moving over to Emily, "Detective, a word?" he asked quietly.

Nodding, Emily moved away from the crowd with Horatio, "I would like to apologize for doubting your concerns about Eric," he spoke in a low voice. "It seems they were justified. Is there anything you would like to tell me regarding his behavior towards you?"

"It's not an appropriate time given the situation, Lieutenant," Emily replied nervously. "You already have a lot to take care of and you leave tomorrow. My concerns can wait."

Horatio gave Emily a concerned look, but he simply turned his attention to the rest of the crowd, "Get back to your jobs, please!" he called out in a less-than-pleased tone of voice. "The show's over!"

As the crowd dispersed, Tim came running over to Horatio, "H, Rick's locked himself in a bathroom stall and he's throwing up," he reported in a concerned voice. "I tried to get him to talk to me about what happened, and he told me off with some not so clean language."

Horatio sighed heavily, "I will be upholding IAB's decision regarding Eric's suspension while I'm gone, Speed," he replied in a grim voice. "I also want you to make sure the rest of you, including Ryan, don't overwork yourselves. I know he's been working double shifts lately and that's not altogether good for him or any of you, so that's going to be put on hold for a while. You're all going to stick to your shifts unless there's a case that requires extra shiftwork. Eric's outburst has made it clear that everyone is overworking themselves and it's not necessary for any of you to do that even though I'm going to be away…"

Tim nodded and suddenly frowned, suddenly spotting Robert guiding Rick out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye. Noticing that Tim was no longer paying attention to him, Horatio turned just in time to see Robert gently guide Rick to the elevator and help him inside when it opened.

"Speed, go see where they're going and report back," Horatio spoke in a concerned voice. "I'm going to have a conversation with Eric, a very necessary conversation."

Nodding, Tim ran to the elevator and caught it as it closed. He quickly entered it and left with them.

Horatio, meanwhile, silently made his way through the crowd towards the interview rooms to talk to Eric. He wasn't looking forward to disciplining Eric, but he knew it had to be done. When he got to the interview rooms, however, Eric was nowhere to be seen even though he had been ordered to go there.

"Lieutenant Caine?"

Horatio turned just in time to see Emily approach him looking concerned, "Oh, Emily, my apologies," he spoke softly. "The fight between Rick and Eric distracted me from being able to more deeply analyze your phone…"

"Lieutenant, the paramedics want to take Detective Flack back to the hospital to get treated for dehydration and shock, but he's refusing to go," Emily interrupted in a concerned voice. "He's scared of getting put on report for not doing his job, but he doesn't look well. I could use your assistance."

Concerned about Emily's formality towards him, Horatio followed her to the staff lounge and saw Flack sitting on a gurney looking tired, pale, and uneasy with his hands folded, "Detective Flack," Horatio spoke in a concerned voice. "Detective Speedle tells me you don't want to go back to the hospital for further examination even though you're not well."

"My job is to keep an eye on Doctor Pride and take her back to New York for the trial," Flack replied firmly. "If I can't do the job I was asked to do here, Sergeant Boscorelli will probably decide that the brass are right about me and let me go. You're right that I'm not well, but I can't just…"

Emily sighed, "I can watch her while you go back to the hospital," she offered firmly. "I'm a police officer with the rank of Detective. If you give me permission, I can watch Doctor Pride while you're gone."

Flack exhaled softly before nodding, "I'll get back here as soon as I can," he acquiesced softly, finally allowing himself to lie down on the gurney. "I should have been taking better care of myself…"

"You were caught in an explosion, Donald!" Emily argued in a shocked voice. "How exactly is that your fault?!"

Flack sighed, "Speaking of that, have you been to see Tommy yet?" he asked tiredly. "He was caught in it too."

"I haven't, but I hope to go soon," Emily lied softly, unsure if Tommy even wanted her there because he had been distant towards her ever since McKeen's escape had hit the news.

Before Flack, who could tell that Emily was lying, could reply, Emily sighed, "Where's Doctor Pride?" she asked firmly, quickly changing the subject.

"She's in the nap room," Horatio spoke up in a concerned voice. "Thank you for your help."

Nodding, Emily silently made her way to the nap room to stand watch, leaving Flack with Horatio and the paramedics.

Ryan hadn't wanted to leave Tommy's side while Tommy slept, as he had been called by her and told that she was on her way back to Miami from Vegas and would be there within hours, but he had no choice. As he had been sitting by Tommy's side, pointedly ignoring Tripp's gentle urgings to take a break, he had received a video message from Michael Travers stating that he should watch it and then distance himself from Sergeant Stetler as fast as possible, as the man was a delusional nutcase.

Ryan hadn't even shown the video to Tripp; he had made an excuse about needing a walk and had watched the video in private. After being properly horrified by the fight between Rick and Eric and Rick's revelation, he had made a beeline for Grissom's hospital room to ask Grissom if what Rick said was true, as Rick had mentioned Grissom in the video.

Thankfully, Grissom was alone and awake when Ryan arrived, but he was staring off into space, "Grissom?" Ryan asked softly, sighing heavily as he approached the bed where Grissom lay awake and deep in thought. "Um, I need to ask you something really important…"

Grissom silently stared at him questioningly and Ryan reluctantly played him the video of Rick and Eric arguing that Michael Travers had sent him, "Did this happen?" Ryan asked in a concerned voice, fear in his tone.

A heavy silence filled the room as Nick suddenly came in and froze at seeing Ryan there, "How…how did this fight even start?" Grissom asked in a confused voice. "The video…it starts with this…"

"That's Officer Delko and he's yelling at Sergeant Rick Stetler for yelling shouting at my brother-in-law, Detective Tim Speedle," Ryan stated in a concerned voice. "I don't know what…"

Nick frowned, "I spoke with a Detective Tim Speedle earlier today when he and Sergeant Stetler came by," he explained, suddenly feeling uneasy. "Speedle and I talked out in the hall…"

Grissom's expression suddenly soured, "And what did you tell Detective Speedle, Nick?" he asked sternly.

"I, um, told Detective Speedle that Sergeant Stetler should seek counseling from a professional instead of bothering you…" Nick explained nervously, quickly realizing he may have said the wrong thing. "Is Rick still saying that something happened between him and Warrick when we all worked together in Vegas? That case was dropped at prelim cause Stetler was declared unable to go to trial!"

Grissom suddenly looked angry as he sat up in bed, "That doesn't mean it didn't happen, Nick!" he snapped in an unusually loud and angry voice. "Warrick drugged Rick and sexually assaulted him! I know that because I'm the one who processed Rick at the hospital after he came to me for help, and the evidence is still in the unsolved cases storage room at CSI! The case was dropped because Warrick had the presiding judge in his pocket as well as the sheriff at the time, as he posted bets for them. I knew about Warrick's gambling addiction even then, as did Brass, but do you think anyone would listen to our concerns? No! Especially not after you, Warrick, and Catherine gave damaging character statements about Rick to the sheriff and based them on that case! The best Brass and I could do for Rick is keep him at Level 2 CSI status and get him moved to a fresh police department so he could start over. Or were you even aware of the hurt you helped cause?!"

Nick immediately looked ashamed, "Did…did Warrick ever tell Rick why?" he asked, his voice trembling with shame and sadness as he spoke. "Griss, what…what are you doing? You…"

Exhaling weakly, Grissom slowly got out of bed and clung to his IV pole as he moved towards the closet, "I'm going over to the Miami-Dade Crime Lab to clean up the mess you made, Nick," he replied in a tired voice. "I'm feeling a little tired, but I've always seen Rick as a friend and…"

Grissom immediately wavered in his step, but he quickly made it to the closet before he had to lean against it, "I don't go for many walks," he spoke shakily, lying through his teeth because he didn't want to talk about the torture he had endured. "The chemotherapy I'm on is very aggressive, so I mostly stay in bed and sleep or read. By the time a cab gets here, I should be all right…"

"I can take you to the lab," Ryan offered in a concerned voice. "Detective Tripp thinks I should take a break anyway and if you insist on leaving the hospital, you should not be travelling unsupervised."

Nick, however, looked concerned and like he wanted to protest, but Grissom scowled at him, "Just go back to your room and rest til your parents come visit you, Nick," Grissom stated crossly, scowling at him. "You've done enough."

"Actually, Griss, my father had to go to Texas to get Derek and he's taking Derek to New York tomorrow, so I need to spend time with my mom and Parker when visit after Parker's nap," Nick revealed in a concerned voice. "I don't know how Derek recovered so quickly or got permission to travel, but he wants to see his kid and our parents want to help him. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but I feel uneasy about it…"

Grissom and Ryan frowned, "Derek's been getting treatment for a brain tumor," Nick continued nervously. "My parents didn't want me telling anyone, but the fact that my dad's taking him to New York to try and see his kid. It just feels weird to me. Doesn't it feel weird to you? I talked with Candace about it after he left for Texas and we both feel helpless because we can't do anything just because we feel uneasy, but…our parents think we're nuts for being concerned. Candace and I…we think something's going to happen, something bad, but our mom told us that Derek's behavior was due to a brain tumor and he's fine now. Mom was very firm in telling Candace and I that Derek's fine to visit his son, he's fine to see Emily since she's 18 now, and Dad will make it happen through court orders even if Faith Yokas doesn't like it."

For a brief moment, Ryan wondered if the threatening text message he received was connected to Derek Stokes in some way, but he pushed the thought aside and turned his attention to Grissom, "I can mention your concerns to Lieutenant Caine when I'm at the Crime Lab, Nick," Grissom offered in a concerned voice. "He's heading to New York to testify about his kidnapping and I'm sure he can have eyes on your father and Derek while he's up there. I was supposed to go too, but I'm not well enough. Someone else from Victims Assistance will be an on-site advocate, fortunately."

Nodding, Nick slowly left the room with such a slow step that both Ryan and Grissom knew Nick was in a lot of physical and emotional pain, "If you can help me get some presentable clothes and shoes on, I'll be ready to go," Grissom finally spoke softly, giving Ryan a pleading look. "Please?"

Swallowing hard, Ryan nodded, not daring to argue with Grissom even though he didn't look well.

"Eric?"

Swallowing hard, Eric looked up from the locker he had run to after being told to go wait in an interview room by Detective Caine. To his shock, his deceased sister Marisol was standing in front of him sporting the hairstyle and outfit she had married Horatio in, "Mari?" he asked softly.

Marisol smiled at Eric before gently embracing him and gently stroking his cheek, "Mari, I'm so tired and lost without you," Eric confessed in a pained, quiet voice, his expression broken as he gazed at her loving face. "I think about you every day."

Silence filled the air and Eric sighed heavily, remorse in his eyes, "I exploded in front of everyone," he spoke in a pained voice. "I yelled and screamed, and that wasn't good, but Stetler…"

Footsteps suddenly filled the air, "Eric?" Calleigh's voice called out.

Eric turned to see Calleigh wander into the locker room with a worried look on her face, "Eric, are you all right?" she asked in a concerned voice. "Horatio's looking for you…"

"I just needed a minute," Eric replied in a pained voice. "I wanted to ask Marisol what to do. I mean, why is Stetler here and working with us? And that story he told. Why would a rape victim be fired from a Crime Lab? That story's so weird that it can't possibly be true…"

Calleigh sighed and her frown deepened when tears filled Eric's eyes, "I hid down here to think and then I saw my sister and then just started talking to her," he wept softly. "I…"

Exhaling softly, Calleigh gently embraced Eric and gently held him as he allowed himself a good cry.

"Juice?"

Rick didn't reply as he gazed around the IAB space that used to be his and was now Robert's. Besides the desk, chairs, computer, and trash can, there was a portable shelf with books and a phone set up, but no pictures of his family were out nor were his educational certificates posted. There were no personal touches to the space, something that Rick found concerning.

"Rick?" Robert's voice filled the air. "Are you all right?"

Rick sighed as he looked to Robert, who was holding a bottle of apple juice out to him, "Drink this and get your medical bracelet updated," Robert instructed firmly, pressing the bottle into his hand. "You might also want to wear your glasses instead of contacts for a while and give your eyes a break. We updated your prescription when you and Lenny moved in with us, so I don't know why you don't use them more. You won't be able to ditch me like you ditched Speedle, so don't try."

"Are you also going to tell me that I need to make a statement against Eric Delko to make his suspension stick?" Rick replied coldly. "I'm not going to bother with that, Bobby. He's got a brain injury and I know what he said was inappropriate, but I…"

Robert scoffed, "He said it in front of witnesses and there's enough recorded evidence to make a suspension stick even without a report from you," he interrupted firmly. "I just thought you needed a moment to breathe after that little…I'm not sure what to call it, actually. I'm not even sure what to say about it."

Rick quickly took a swig of juice before removing his contacts and getting his glasses case out of his pocket. He put the glasses on and threw the contact lenses in the trash before taking another swig of juice, "I…I should probably return the coat to the lab," he realized softly. "And finish what I was doing. As long as I don't have to talk to anyone…"

"I'll walk you back up," Robert offered calmly. "I have to talk to Officer Delko anyway."

Sighing, Rick finished his juice, trashed the bottle, and got up, offering a faint smile to his former brother-in-law as he did, "Thank you," he replied quietly. "Thank you for being there for me, Bobby."

"Anytime," Robert replied in a reassuring voice, smiling at Rick as they went to the elevator.

The hospital had reluctantly given Grissom a day pass to visit the Crime Lab after Ryan had lied, stating that Grissom was needed to give a statement about his abduction, but Grissom was very tired by the time he and Ryan arrived at the MDPD. Because of that, Ryan took Grissom up to the lab in the wheelchair that they had borrowed from the hospital and Grissom didn't argue about needing it.

As Ryan wheeled Grissom to the desk, he noticed Eric and Calleigh chatting with Horatio nearby, "Horatio?" Ryan called out in a concerned voice.

Horatio, Eric, and Calleigh froze at seeing Ryan there with Grissom, "Doctor Grissom," Horatio spoke in a concerned voice, quickly walking over to him and Ryan. "What…what are you doing here? You should be in the hospital and Mister Wolfe…"

"I asked Ryan to bring me over here so I could talk to you and to CSI Delko," Grissom explained in a tired voice.

Before Horatio could reply, the elevator doors opened and Rick and Robert came into the lab. Rick immediately spotted Eric, Grissom, Ryan, Calleigh, and Horatio, whispered something to Robert, and took off out of sight. Robert, meanwhile, spotted Grissom and Ryan, "Was that Stetler?" Eric asked in a confused voice.

"I'd like to talk to you about him, actually," Grissom spoke in a concerned voice. "Can we talk in private?"

Horatio nodded, "We can use the interview room over there," he replied calmly, gesturing to a nearby interview room. "Calleigh, Speed and Emily are sitting in the nap room with Doctor Pride. Can you please go tell Speed that Rick is back upstairs and working where he was earlier, before all this started? I would like Rick kept protected…"

Nodding, Calleigh silently left the area while Horatio shepherded Ryan, Grissom, Robert, and Eric into the interview room, "Do you mind if I record this for the record?" Horatio asked, producing a recorder from his pocket.

"Go ahead," Grissom replied in a soft tone. "I am eager to help a friend."

Nodding, Horatio pressed PLAY and set the recorder on the table.

"What Stetler yelled to the whole lab, that can't possibly true, can it?" Eric suddenly asked in an uneasy voice once everyone was seated at the table. "Why would a rape victim be fired from a Crime Lab? That story's so weird that it can't possibly be true. If he was raped, why didn't his colleagues or fellow cops or even other people in the justice system…?"

"Warrick had a gambling addiction when he was alive and posted bets for a lot of people, including police officers and judges," Grissom explained in a solemn voice. "Rick's case ended up dropped because the presiding judge was one Warrick posted bets for and defaming character statements, lies shared in court, and Warrick's promise to keep posting bets made the judge see Rick as an incompetent person who was making up a story for attention. Rick was not exactly popular with the lab and PD because he, like myself, was a bit of an oddball and struggled to connect with others and the victims of crimes. More than once, I heard Warrick tell Rick that the only way he would know how a victim of crime felt was to have his own bad experience. I thought it was just smack talk, but I wish now that I had taken it more seriously. One night, very late, I was working in the lab when I got a call on my cell from an unknown number. It was Rick on a pay phone, and he could barely speak, but he managed to tell me where he was and that his drink had been drugged. When I found him, he was not in good shape and hypothermic, so I got him to the hospital and asked him what happened, and he right away told me to do a rape kit on him before he would answer any other questions. I collected all the evidence off of him and did the kit as he asked me to do. He then told me that Warrick had approached him at meal break and had apologized for bullying him before inviting him out to share a meal during work as a truce. Rick then told me they had gone to the restaurant at the Tangiers for a quick bite, as they didn't have time for anything else, and he didn't even have liquor that night. He had a juice and he had the receipt for it, but Warrick testified that Rick was drinking on the job during work and lied to the PD and the judge about that and other things, as did others in the lab…"

Eric frowned, "If there's evidence, why don't you just get it sent here and pursue the case?" he asked in a confused voice.

"Warrick Brown is dead," Grissom explained grimly. "The most I could do is file post-houmous charges and perhaps get Rick an apology, but I'd have to convince the crime lab in Vegas to re-open the case first…"

Eric immediately looked guilty, "I want to apologize to Stetler," he spoke softly. "I thought he was lying. His behavior in the past hasn't exactly been commendable, but mine…it was much worse today."

"I think it's best you wait on that," Robert cut in in a slightly gentler voice. "I understand you have a brain injury that may affect your behavior at times, Officer Delko, but I think you need to serve out your suspension, adjust your medication, and seek more therapy before you attempt to approach Sergeant Stetler to address what happened today. What happened today can never happen again because if it does, it will mean your badge. Do you understand?"

Eric nodded, a solemn expression on his face, "Eric, I'm in agreement with Detective Caine that the suspension he gave you will stand, and my recommendation is that it be a week," Horatio spoke in a concerned voice. "And when it's over, I want you to personally apologize to Rick and work with someone when doing cases. We'll talk more when I get back from New York, all right? Hang in there."

"A one-week paid suspension sounds fair," Robert replied firmly. "And I expect you to use the week to reflect on your behavior, attend therapy, and deal with your meds. You're dismissed to go home now. Unless there are any emergencies that would require your presence, don't come back for a week."

Eric nodded and silently left, "Who's in charge of the lab out in Vegas now?" Ryan asked quietly.

Grissom sighed tiredly, "I'm not sure, but I'm honestly very tired," he admitted, a yawn filling his voice. "I think I had better go back to the hospital and sleep. Thank you for letting me speak to you all about what really happened to Rick in Vegas. It can't and won't erase what happened to him in Vegas, but it can clear his name here."

Before Horatio, Robert, or Ryan could reply, Rick came into the interview room looking alarmed, "Why was Doctor Grissom brought in for questioning?" Rick asked in an unusually alarmed, almost angry voice. "You should still be in the hospital, Gil…"

"Rick, I asked Ryan to bring me here so I could clear your name and reputation," Grissom explained in a quiet, tired voice, sighing as he looked up at Rick. "I explained the story of what happened that night from my perspective and that the evidence is still at CSI in Vegas. I'm also going to see if I can reach out to them and get them to re-open the case so you can get justice and an apology from those who didn't believe you."

Rick sighed anxiously, but nodded, "I'm not flying to Vegas to readdress it, so you do whatever you want with it," he replied in a tired voice. "Anyway, Gil, why don't I take you back to the hospital and we can get you some tea on the way? My supervisor thinks I should take the day…"

"If that's what Speed thinks, I agree with him," Horatio spoke gently, quietly shocked to see the former IAB sergeant wearing glasses. "Get some rest, Rick. Start fresh tomorrow, bright and early. All right? Take Doctor Grissom back to the hospital and spend some time visiting with him if you want. Mister Wolfe, a moment of your time, please."

Rick gently wheeled Grissom from the room while Ryan remained behind, "Mister Wolfe, I would like you to stop working double shifts while I'm away because I believe it's proving detrimental to your health," Horatio explained in a quiet, concerned voice. "I know you've been taking the double shifts because you're having trouble sleeping and I understand why you're having trouble sleeping, but you need to seek help to address those issues. You do not need to neglect your mental and physical health."

Sadness filled Ryan's expression, "It's been hard for me, H," he admitted softly. "Especially with the bombing. Even when Diana gets back, money will be tight because Jason, he's struggling to get a job or get into school right now because of his past trouble with the police. He was in school, but then he had trouble with the police and had to leave. Diana will want to stay with Tommy as much as she can and she made that very clear when she called me. She tried Emily first, but got no answer."

"Speaking of your sister's phone, Mister Wolfe, it's unavailable because she received a threatening text message from an unknown source and I was analyzing it before everything happened," Horatio explained in a concerned voice. "Did you receive any threatening text messages?"

Ryan hesitated briefly before nodding and showing Horatio his phone, "It happened when I was at the hospital with Tommy, but I hid it from him while I was there and I let him call his wife on my phone since his is still in Evidence. Tommy also told me that our father is still alive, but I saw Emily kill him…"

Horatio's expression suddenly sobered and his eyes grew sad as he reflected on what Rick had told him and Natalia about Thomas Wolfe. Ryan stared at Horatio's expression briefly before stilling.

"It's true, isn't it?" Ryan spoke in a shaky voice. "What Tommy said about our father being alive?"

A faint gasp filled the air and Horatio and Ryan turned just in time to see Emily gag helplessly while gripping the door handle tightly, "Emily…" Ryan spoke anxiously. "Emily, I just found out today. I didn't know before. I thought he died when we were kids…"

Emily said nothing for several minutes and then tears filled her eyes, "I spent so many years thinking I had killed him," she replied in a shaky, pained voice. "Why did Tommy just tell you today and never think to tell me at all and why did Dad never reach out? You know what? I can't do this right now, I can't. I promised Detective Flack that I'd look after Doctor Pride for him while he's at the hospital getting taken care of. If you will both excuse me…"

As Emily stepped outside, she promptly shouted profanity into the air that caused Horatio's eyes to widen in shock and Ryan to groan quietly. She then exhaled before walking off down the hallway in tears, "She hasn't sworn like that in a long time," Ryan replied worriedly. "I know she's angry and hurt by the news, but at the same time, I can't help but wonder…do you think those text threats came from him?"

"It's possible, but hard to determine unless the two messages are compared and both your phone and your sister's phone are more deeply analyzed," Horatio explained worriedly. "And your family background is more deeply investigated…"

Ryan sighed, his expression sad, "I don't remember everything from my childhood, H, because of how I suffered as a kid before I went to live with my Uncle Ron," he admitted quietly. "Therapists that Uncle Ron made me see tried to get me to recall things from those days of abuse, but they also warned that I might not ever remember everything because I sustained permanent brain damage from the abuse that was in my family's home. What happened to me since then has made it harder for me to recall that far back, so I don't try to force it. The last time I tried, I almost lost consciousness. I can't speak for Tommy or Emily, but I have no desire to see our father again because I have no idea what it would do to me. I also don't want him to know he's got a grandson through me. I just want him to leave me alone. It's too painful for me to know that he's alive. You can do what you want in terms of investigating him, but I can't help you because I won't be of any help. I'm an unreliable witness."

Sadness filled Horatio's expression, and he nodded, completely understanding Ryan's pain, "Um, what I can tell you is a bit of what I can remember," Ryan continued shakily, wanting desperately to help because he hated that Horatio was giving him a pity look. "My father started raping me when I was…"

Without warning, Ryan's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, his body went limp, and his legs began to sink towards the floor, "Ryan!" Horatio shouted, horrified that Ryan seemed to be having a violent physical reaction to merely speaking about his father's violence towards him. "Ryan!"

Concerned that Ryan was going to fall and hurt himself, Horatio quickly got Ryan on the floor and into the recovery position in case the younger man threw up or had a seizure. As he knelt next to Ryan, a crowd started forming, "Ryan?" Emily's voice suddenly filled the air. "What happened?!"

"He was talking to me and all of a sudden, his eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp," Horatio explained in a confused, concerned voice as he got his phone out to dial 9-1-1. "I…"

Ryan suddenly let out a faint, groggy groan, "…Horatio?" he spoke in a groggy, weak voice, not opening his eyes. "Horatio…what…happened…?"

"Good Lord!" Dr. Loman's voice suddenly filled the air as Dr. Loman, Tim, Emily, and Calleigh broke through the crowd. "I was in the nap room talking with Dr. Pride about medicine when I heard you shout. What happened?!"

Horatio scowled at the crowd, "Back to work, everyone!" he ordered firmly. "This is not a show!"

Ryan's eyes slowly opened, "What…what am I doing on the floor?" he asked in a confused voice. "H, what am I doing on the floor? We were talking...how did I get on the floor?"

"I noticed you weren't feeling well, so I helped you lie on the floor before you got into trouble," Horatio lied in a hesitant, quiet voice, quickly realizing that Ryan truly couldn't remember passing out. "I'm going to step back so Doctor Loman can look you over, all right?"

Ryan sighed weakly, but nodded as Horatio moved over to the table, "I…I'm fine, H," he argued groggily. "Just very tired. I think I'm okay to get up."

"I want you to rest in the nap room and let Dr. Loman examine you if you don't want to stay on the floor," Horatio spoke in a concerned voice. "I also don't want you driving for 24 hours."

Emily quickly came to Ryan's side and gently helped him to his feet, help that Ryan accepted. Horatio quickly got to his feet as well, "Why don't you call Jason and Emilio, Ryan, and have them babysit Carlos overnight and you can stay with Tim and I while you rest?" Emily suggested gently, putting a protective arm around Ryan. "I think there's a spare room, right Tim?"

Tim nodded, deeply concerned at how pale Ryan looked, "I'll call my mom and ask her to make a bed up for you," he replied in a concerned voice. "If you give me your keys, I can also make sure your car gets over there safely since you're not supposed to drive for 24 hours."

Ryan surrendered his keys to Tim before he left the room with Dr. Loman, "I'll see you at home later, Tim," Emily spoke in a concerned voice. "I'm going to sit with Ryan while Doctor Loman examines him and then stay with Doctor Pride til Detective Flack gets back."

Once Tim and Emily had gone, Horatio turned the recorder off and silently took it to evidence and logged it under his name before he signed out of work and went to the parking garage to collect his vehicle so he could go home, load his bags up, pack Emily's gift to him, and go to the airport hotel he had booked for that night because he had an early flight the next morning. As he made his way through the garage to his car, however, he spotted Rick and Gil at Rick's car, "Horatio!" Rick called out. "A word?"

Deeply confused and concerned, Horatio walked over to them, "In the rush to explain Rick's situation to you, Lieutenant Caine, I almost forgot that Nick asked me to share some concerns with you as well," Grissom explained in a tired, apologetic voice. "He said his father went to Texas to get Derek and his father and Derek are going to New York tomorrow to try and get Derek visitation rights with the kid he had with Emily Yokas. Nick thought Derek was getting treatment for a brain tumor, so he just started feeling uneasy about the idea of Derek going to New York during the trial and he tried to talk to his mom about it, but she told him to stay out of it and defended Derek's right to his child. Since you're going to New York anyway, Nick wanted to know if you could also look into that situation for him…"

Horatio frowned, "Nick's going to be in the hospital a while longer, otherwise I think he might go to New York himself," Grissom continued in a concerned voice. "I can't help but worry McKeen might be planning something for the trial and try to involve Derek, but Nick and I don't have proof…"

"I can certainly pass Nick's concerns on to Detective Taylor," Horatio promised in a concerned voice, suddenly wondering if Nick and Grissom's concerns were justified. "Thank you for letting me know."

Grissom nodded and then he slouched in the seat and closed his eyes to rest. Horatio silently nodded to Rick before moving off towards his own car, suddenly very anxious to get going as quickly as possible.

Manhattan, New York

Ellen looked comfortable enough, Dr. Vatelli thought to himself as he watched her sleep on the apartment's faded living room couch. He had moved her there from the floor to sleep off the sedative he had given her because as a doctor, his job was to help people feel comfortable and he felt sorry for her. As he watched her sleep, however, he suddenly heard angry footsteps come up behind him.

"What is she still doing here?!" McKeen's cold voice filled the air. "This isn't a hotel!"

Dr. Vatelli froze briefly before sighing, "I gave her a sedative that is meant to last 12 to 18 hours," he replied in a toneless voice. "What do you want me to do, dump her in an alley somewhere?"

"Just get rid of her and do it before tomorrow," McKeen replied coldly, both amused and annoyed that Dr. Vatelli was standing up for himself. "Wait until it's dark and get Tara to help you dump her somewhere. I'm going to be meeting with Derek Stokes and Emily Yokas tomorrow at a private place arranged by Thomas Wolfe and I can't be worrying about some needy addict, especially since Thomas decided to bring a bodyguard to the meeting. I just got off the phone with him and he decided that coming alone was too risky…"

Dr. Vatelli frowned, "When do you go to Miami?" he asked softly, wanting to change the subject.

"I'll get more information about everything tomorrow," McKeen hissed darkly. "Where's Tara and…?"

Dr. Vatelli sighed, "Sleeping," he replied nervously. "What if Ellen wakes before dark?"

"Then give her another sedative!" McKeen hissed angrily, glaring at Dr. Vatelli menacingly. "She'll think it's Christmas! Her constant want for a fix is why the government didn't disagree when I made her give up her kids! She loved the drugs more than them! I managed to talk John Sullivan into taking Danielle, I managed to talk the Messers into taking Danny, and I thought I talked Gil Grissom into taking Greg, but the idiot went and gave Greg up for adoption, stating that he wasn't capable of raising a child alone. If Grissom wasn't so obsessed with developing Victims Assistance and keeping it running, he wouldn't be such a mess now! I'm going to not only kidnap Rick Stetler while I'm in Miami, but I'm also going to kill Gil Grissom! I've had enough of him! I'm not even going to ask for Thomas Wolfe's permission! That stupid old man just sits in his house all day, working remotely and sending threatening text messages to his useless children to make them behave! What a waste of life he is!"

Dr. Vatelli's eyes went wide, "You couldn't do that before…" he began, wincing as McKeen silenced him with a hard slap to the face.

"And before I leave for Miami, I'm going to pay a visit to Pavel LaRusso and teach that little spoiled brat a lesson for turning his back on me," McKeen continued in a cold voice, his expression full of hate. "He may have been able to save his sister from me, but he will not be able to save himself! I'll do it while you're taking the garbage out tonight! For now, I need a sandwich and a beer. Are you hungry? You did remember to stock the fridge before I came, right?"

Nodding, Dr. Vatelli said nothing and McKeen smirked, taking that as a no, "Good," he replied, chuckling darkly as he went into the kitchen. "I wasn't going to let you eat anyway. Give Ellen another sedative to ensure she won't wake up when you get rid of her tonight. Put her in a garbage bag and dump her in the river, for all I care. It's not like anyone will miss her if she drowns."

Heartsick of McKeen's complete lack of compassion, Dr. Vatelli retreated to his medical supplies and reluctantly prepared a syringe of sedative. He quickly offered a silent prayer for forgiveness as he prepared to administer it to the already sedated Ellen, as he knew a second would harm her greatly.

Only when the sun was completely down did Dr. Vatelli and a reluctant Tara leave the apartment with Ellen's extremely sedated body stuffed into a garbage bag. They carried the bag through the streets for what seemed like hours until Dr. Vatelli spotted a tall, sophisticated looking building that looked like it was used by a lot of people, a lot of people who would more than likely find Ellen and take care of her.

"Are we done yet?" Tara suddenly growled darkly from under the mask that Dr. Vatelli had made her wear in public in case they were seen, glaring daggers at him. "How far have we walked?"

Dr. Vatelli sighed heavily, "Far enough," he replied in a tired voice. "Let's set her down by the doors and open the bag so she can breathe. Then we'll get a cab and get out of here…"

Tara obeyed his directions and then spat on Ellen's body as she stepped away from it, "Was that really necessary, Tara?" Dr. Vatelli asked in an annoyed voice before rolling his eyes and quickly holding his arm out for a cab. "Whatever. Let's go. Keep your mask on. I'll tell people you have a cold if they ask."

A cab quickly pulled up at the curb and Dr. Vatelli quickly shepherded Tara into it before giving Ellen an apologetic look, "I'm sorry," he whispered, his expression filled with remorse. "I hope someone finds you while you're still alive."

Sighing heavily, Dr. Vatelli got in the cab and pressed his face into the seat to breathe as it took off into the night.

Several moments later, the front door opened and Danny Messer came outside, exhausted from a long shift and eager to go home to his family. As he moved forward, he tripped over the garbage bag, swore, and was about to get mad when he suddenly saw Ellen unconscious inside. His mind immediately flashed back to information he had seen in the CSI databases about Ellen Seville and how she was related to him and Danielle Sullivan-Boscorelli and Greg Sanders and fear filled his face. He was horrified to see that very woman here at that moment, laying in a garbage bag on the sidewalk as if she were nothing more than trash and unworthy of life. Danny's heart broke for her, she had been forced to give him up by the State and now, here she was, broken and needing his help. Common sense told him that he should go get help, but Danny stood still for a moment as tears filled his eyes and a pained sob filled his throat, a sob that quickly escaped his mouth as he cried agony at the world and mixed them with please for help.

"MOMMY! SOMEONE HELP! MY MOMMY'S BEEN HURT!"

It was late at night and dark outside, but Pavel LaRusso was wide awake and sitting on the living room couch in his penthouse suite with a heart and mind full of uneasy feelings. He had a strong feeling that he better not go to sleep that night or else he might not wake up ever again. Instead of going to sleep, Pavel had dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, a cap, and a hooded jacket and he had filled his wallet with credit cards, cash, and ID before also packing it, a few clothes, and his personal flash drives that contained photos, information about his businesses, and everything he needed to start over fresh.

As he was just about to lock up and leave, a knock sounded at the door, prompting Pavel to freeze in his tracks. Before Pavel could react, a shot was fired through the door, hitting the television and destroying it. Instinctively, Pavel grabbed his taser off of his shelf, a weapon that his father had gifted him along with the penthouse, money, and businesses, and made sure that his backpack was secure around his back in case he needed to run and then grabbed a can of mace off of another shelf and held both like they were weapons of war.

Almost immediately, the door opened and McKeen stormed in holding a dangerous looking firearm that he immediately began shooting all around the apartment. As bullets flew everywhere, Pavel lunged at McKeen, knocking the weapon from his hands and sending them both to the floor.

McKeen's weapon immediately flew under the couch, and McKeen didn't bother to get it. He instead scratched Pavel's face and then began to choke the life out of him while slamming him into the floor violently. As Pavel began to lose consciousness, he managed to reach up with the taser and stab McKeen in the chest with it.

Swearing loudly, McKeen released Pavel and lay there, stunned by the taser. Pavel used the opportunity to get up, mace McKeen to temporarily blind him and buy himself some escape time, and stumble out of the apartment after dropping the mace and taser in the hallway, run down the hallway, and to the elevator. It was only in the elevator that Pavel realized he had been hit by ricocheting bullets and/or flying glass and was bleeding on his shirt, but not his hoodie.

Thankfully, the elevator reached the lobby quickly and Pavel quickly stumbled outside with his things, hailed a cab, and ordered to be taken to Newark Airport. The cabbie obeyed, not daring to argue because he could tell that something bad had happened to him and whoever the scared young man was, he obviously needed to get away as fast as possible from it.

After what seemed like an eternity, the cab arrived at Newark Airport and even though he was in pain and bleeding from the fight, Pavel ran, quickly bought a ticket off of a computer, and then ran as quickly as his injured body would allow to make sure that he couldn't be followed and killed. He quickly zipped his hoodie up, quietly made his way through airport security without trouble, and then got to the gate as fast as his injured body would allow. Once on the plane, Pavel sat in his coach seat quietly until the plane had taken off because he didn't want to risk being pulled off and sent to a hospital where CSI's, police, and doctors would question him. All he wanted to do was to get to Miami.

Once the seatbelt sign was off, Pavel quietly excused himself to the bathroom, swiped the first aid kit on the way, and locked himself inside the small bathroom with the kit, none of which was noticed by the sleepy flight attendants. Upon examining himself further, he found that a bullet did indeed go through his side while another one went through his foot. Pavel quickly reasoned that there was probably glass in his body too and he also had other injuries that he had sustained during his brawl with McKeen.

Ignoring the trembling in his hands, Pavel silently retrieved his phone, which was now cracked due to the fight, from his bag and quickly made a call to the New York Crime Lab, a number he knew very well thanks to his time with Stella, as they had shared conversations about their lives and work. He was surprised and pleased when Mac Taylor answered the phone, as Stella had mentioned Mac was a workaholic and quite often spent nights at the lab.

"My…my name is Pavel LaRusso," Pavel spoke in a shaking voice, gasping as pain suddenly shot through his injured body. "I'm a resident of Fricassa Tower Apartments in New York City and I…I vas attacked and shot by Jeffree McKeen. I…I think he might steel be zere and he ees wery wiolent…"

Overwhelmed by the pain, Pavel gagged and ended the call, swallowing hard as he returned the phone to his bag. He quickly put the toilet lid down, opened the first aid kit, and began to see what he could use in the kit to keep himself from bleeding out until he reached his destination.

The next story 'Trials and Devastation,' is coming soon...