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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1,879
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1/1
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Knowing

Summary:

Warrick loses family he didn't know that he had.

Work Text:

Knowing


"Hey Grissom," came the familiar phrase usually followed by a
question. Greg Sanders stood in front of Gil Grissom's desk, with
three printouts - DNA analysis.

"Yes, Greg," He looked at the young man, who was for once
holding back his usual flow of speech. Grissom nodded at the papers
in the young man's hand. "Are those the results from the girl found
in the La Plaza pool?"

"April Westin," Greg said as he handed the printouts to Grissom and
stood quietly while Grissom eyed the papers.

"This sample taken from under her finger nails." He had a puzzled
expression on his face. "I thought it was degraded."

"I couldn't get a full profile from that sample. But I got nine of
thirteen locations, so I ran the partial profile in CODIS." Greg rocked
from toe to heel. "I like to be thorough."

"This is a 57.3 percent match to her own DNA." Grissom looked up at Greg,
unimpressed. "So it was likely her blood."

"Compliance."

"What?"  Grissom shuffled to the third printout. "Did you..."

"I ran it three times." Greg held up fingers to emphasize the point.
"I thought it was contamination, so I ran her sample with his sample."

Grissom pulled his glasses off and stood. "You brought this to me
first?"At Greg's nod, he continued. "I'll talk to Warrick. I…," he
never finishedhis thought, already internalizing the conversation. He
left Greg standing in his office. The lab tech retuned to his work
area glad he wasn't Gil Grissom.

Grissom went by the break room; Warrick was lounging at a table
with an orange and a cup of soup. "Hey Griss," Warrick said around an
orange wedge as his boss entered the room with a file under one arm
and a frantic look on his face. "Somebody throw out your blood again?"
He popped another wedge into his mouth. Grissom gave a weak smile as
a response.  

"Rick," Grissom reached into the file and pulled out the photo the
girl's mother had provided and asked "Do you know this woman?"
Warrick took the snapshot from Grissom. "Late teens, auburn hair,
pretty smile." He turned the photo over reading 'April 19,' in one
color ink and in another 'in two days.'

"Nope." Warrick looked at Grissom trying to get a clue from the man's
face. "Is this the vic from Sara's drowning?" The older man's
expression was grim. Warrick gave the photo a second look, attempting
to recall something, anything. "I don't know her." He watched Grissom,
trying to measure his reaction. The older man was looking at him intensely.
Warrick started to feel a bit uncomfortable. "What's this about anyway?"

Grissom realized perhaps he should have taken Warrick back to his
office before starting this conversation. "Rick, I'm sorry. Let's go
to my office." Grissom stared at a point just to the right of the
young man's ear.

Warrick's features tightened. He smiled nervously and got out of his
seat. Grissom led Warrick with his hand lightly on his forearm to his
office. He only released the younger man's arm to let him pass into
the room. Warrick stood in front of Grissom's desk with a thumb
tucked into his back pocket.

"What's going on Gil?"

Grissom sighed. "You should probably sit down."
_______________

Gil Grissom was awakened by the trill of his cell phone. He had left
it by his bedside with the volume on maximum. "Grissom." He said
thickly and rolled onto his side.

"Hey, it's me." There was a pause. "I'm sorry about, um earlier."

"Don't worry about it, Ricky." Grissom rolled out from the covers and
sat on the edge of his bed. He scratched his head and yawned reaching
for the glass of water on his night stand. 

"Sorry I woke you." Warrick cleared his throat and continued, “I
got your voice mail.” Grissom had left one short message. 'Call
me,
we'll talk.'

"Are you coming over?" Grissom was fully awake now.

There was another pause. "Nah man, it’s late. I just wanted you
to know I'm ok."

"Rick, you want to talk?" Grissom asked. "I'll come to your place if
you prefer." He stood up and walked to his dresser. "I'm getting
dressed as we speak."

"I'm not at my place. I just finished a set at 'Eight Fifty-seven'."
He explained, naming an after hours club where he sometimes
played. "I can be at your place in a half-hour."

"I'll start some coffee." They said their goodbyes and Grissom headed
for the bathroom after pulling on a pair of pants and a tee shirt.

In the kitchen, Grissom loaded the coffeemaker with espresso roast
and cold water. He sliced some fruit and took out a box of cold
cereal. He hoped that he would come up with the right words to help
Warrick - to bring him comfort. The subject of absent fathers was as
close to his own heart as was the young man.

It was forty-five minutes later that a knock sounded on his front
door. He pulled the door open and ushered Warrick inside. Grissom
squeezed the taller man's shoulder as he passed in front of
him. "Hungry?"

Warrick followed behind Grissom, staring at the living area, taking
in the condo. Nothing had changed. Art photos and awards adorned his
walls along with specimens mounted under glass. 

"No." Warrick followed him into the kitchen anyway. The room smelled
strongly of coffee and something fruity, which turned out to be
strawberries.

Grissom had a bowl of cornflakes and a steaming cup sitting in front
of him and he'd taken a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar. The box
and an empty bowl were waiting for Warrick. 

Warrick sat and tipped the box of flakes into his bowl. Grissom
hopped off his stool, mouth full of cereal, and poured Warrick a cup
of coffee.  As Grissom put the mug in front of him, Warrick was
scooting the sugar bowl closer to himself.

"Cornflakes?" The younger man commented.

"I'm out of Cheerios." Grissom explained as he sat back down.

"Where are the berries, Gil?" Warrick poured milk onto his flakes and
then into the coffee. He gestured at Grissom's bowl of cereal with
his spoon.

Grissom smiled. "I ate 'em." Warrick offered a highly offended
snort. "I thought you'd changed your mind," he explained with a shrug
and got up to put the milk away.

Warrick reached over and spooned four strawberry halves out of
Grissom's bowl. He was hiding them under his flakes as Grissom was
settling back in his seat. He raised an eyebrow at Warrick when the
berries popped back to the surface of the milk. It was the younger
man's turn to shrug.

They sat silently as minutes passed- eating and sipping coffee.
Grissom waited for Warrick to speak. He learned long ago to wait for
the younger man to come to him, besides questioning his whereabouts
would probably annoy Warrick.

"I was at the hall of records." Warrick's eyes never lifted from his
cereal bowl. He was pushing a strawberry around the bowl trying to
keep it under the milk. It must have had a strong will because it
kept coming back to the surface.

Grissom stilled the other man's hand with his own. "I can't even
comprehend what you were feeling, but I couldn't give you that case."
Grissom looked down at their hands. "Maybe I was wrong." Warrick
tensed but didn't snatch his hand away. 

"Maybe. Maybe not." He cleared his throat. "I found out on my own:
public records, database and internet." At Grissom's frown the
younger man continued. "I didn't misuse my authority." His voice was
even and mild. But the words sounded accusatory to Grissom. He
removed his hand.

Grissom was already walking around the breakfast bar and gathering
dishes. He put them into the sink. "I wanted you to know I didn't do
anything that would reflect badly on our department..." Warrick
trailed off. "Or jeopardize the case." He sighed heavily. 

"There is no case." Warrick looked up from his cup of coffee. "Her
death was ruled accidental."

Warrick picked up his coffee, went back into the living room and sat
on the couch. He felt empty. Her death had been meaningless and
preventable. He listened to Grissom turn on the dishwasher. Where was
the relief he should be feeling?

"Did you meet them?" The question erupted form Warrick when Grissom
came into the room. The older man stopped in his tracks. "Her
parents." Warrick continued. He had his elbows on his knees,
squeezing his neck. Grissom sat next to him and put his hand on the
young man's back.

"Sara talked to the mother." Grissom didn't know what else to tell
him. 

Warrick clasped his hands together and rested his head on them. "I
wish. I... I don't know."

"You," Grissom began treading softly, "may have a unique opportunity
with your biological father and possibly getting to know something of
your sister's life."

Warrick didn't answer immediately. But he raised his head and
unclasped his hands. His long brown fingers clinched the knees of his
pants. "My sister. My father." He laughed unpleasantly, because only
he knew the big joke.

Grissom cleared his throat. "Ricky." Grissom realized that he didn't
know what else to say. So he reached for the closest of Warrick's
hands.

"She was adopted. He's not…," Warrick just shook his head slowly.

"He's not your father." Grissom finished for Warrick when he didn't
complete the sentence.

"There wasn't a father listed on her birth certificate. That's one
thing we had in common." Warrick snorted in disgust.

Grissom knew the subject of Warrick's biological father was closed at
this point. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"I don't know if I can." Warrick sat back on the couch and rubbed his
eyes with his palms.

"Then just lie down for a while."
________________

Grissom was undressing in the bedroom while Warrick used the rest
room. Meticulous as ever, he folded his pants and put them on the
back of the chair next to the closet. Warrick stuck his head out the
bathroom door. "Are both of these yours?" He held up two
toothbrushes. He knew Grissom had a thing about sharing hygiene
equipment.

"Only the blue one."

Warrick stepped out of the bathroom. "And this one?"

"Just in case." Warrick nodded and went to brush his teeth.

Grissom was lying on his back already under the covers. Warrick came
in wearing an A- frame and his boxers; he lay down on his left side
facing Grissom.

"Music?" Grissom knew it sometimes helped the younger man sleep.

"I'm cool." Warrick had yet to pull the covers over himself. He
looked at the bed spread. "Gil?"

"Hmm?" Grissom rolled over onto his side, arm under his neck for
support.

"You're always here for me." Warrick's voice was full of amazement.

Grissom paused to catch Warrick's gaze. "I love you."

"I love you too." Warrick finally raised his eyes.

Grissom pulled the covers up over Warrick. "Try to sleep." He
whispered as he turned off the lamp.