Disclaimer: Yes, they're mine.

Rating: Um…T?

Summary: Grissom and Brass make some observations.

Spoilers: None

Aftermath

Grissom stood with Brass in his office, staring at the television mounted on the wall in the corner. The men watched as Carl Nathan walked from the entrance of Desert Palm Hospital, his wife by his side, three children trailing behind them. The reporters were lined up to get a shot of the Miracle Man, the Las Vegas millionaire who had been kidnapped and held hostage in an abandoned well outside of city limits. When the amateur kidnappers realized the full-scale effort the city was undertaking on behalf of one of its more illustrious citizens, they jumped ship fast, leaving the police with no clue of the whereabouts of Carl Nathan. With no more leads to follow, the sheriff put the pressure on his CSI's, making them reexamine every piece of evidence they had. Time was passing quickly, and as a day became a week and one week became two, Grissom was beginning to feel their efforts were in vain. He worked the case with Catherine, Nick, and Warrick, but it was Archie that broke the case after contacting an old college buddy who was a rep for a software company and begging him for access to state-of-the-art unreleased audio equipment. Though the rest of the team seemed heartened by Archie's discovery, Grissom knew that time was not on their side.

Fortunately, luck was. Nathan's Navy SEAL training kept him alive for the fifteen days he spent trapped in the well. By the time they rescued him, he was battered, but not broken.

The media got wind of the story and soon everyone knew about the man who braved the elements for more than two weeks…

"Just to see my wife smile again," he told reporters in front of the hospital. Janet Nathan was on the verge of tears as she kissed her husband's cheek. Bulbs flashed and Brass sighed.

"That, my friend, is the definition of irony."

Grissom tore his eyes away from the loving couple on the screen and raised his eyebrows. "Catherine told you?"

"I was there," Brass intoned solemnly. "We were all sitting with the family when the results from the bone scan came back. He's got two months, tops." The cop rubbed his tired face.

"So I hear."

"Life is not fair."

Grissom studied Brass for a moment. It was not like him to wallow in a case. The detective usually shrugged things off with humor or sarcasm. But not this time. His whole team seemed attached to this case and to the family that came with it. When they first interviewed the family down at the police station, Brass had comforted the Nathan's twenty-two year old daughter who had come home from school to be with her family while they waited. Grissom supposed it had something to do with Brass' own daughter, Ellie, but he refrained from saying anything. Stoic Nick had forged a bond with the equally stoic oldest son, Sam Nathan. Sam seemed ready to do right by his family, eager to bear whatever burden he may to ease their suffering. He was so much like Nick that Grissom could see why the men quickly became close. At first glance, however, Grissom would not have thought that the rather Goth youngest son, Adam Nathan, would have much in common with Warrick, but the CSI soon grew close to the boy. They talked of music and played chess when Adam didn't feel up for discussion. Catherine, as Grissom suspected, grew close to Janet Nathan. As a mother, she knew what it was like to fear your child would grow up without its father; she had been through crises and lived to tell the tales. Janet could cry to Catherine and Catherine would know what to say. She didn't feel impotent around a woman's tears like Grissom did. He felt the need to comfort when those he loved were hurting, but, for some reason, he couldn't, not to the degree that he should.

Everyone had been paired up and Grissom was the odd man out. When word came that Carl Nathan was still alive, each member of the team had someone to hug and be hugged by while the lonely entomologist stood watching and waiting. He didn't go along with everyone to the hospital, but returned to his work, his life.

It had been several days before the Miracle Man could be released from the hospital. The media was told they were keeping him there as a precaution, but Grissom had soon found out about the aggressive cancer attacking Nathan's bones from a sobbing Catherine.

"He doesn't deserve this," Brass muttered. "His family doesn't deserve this. Forty-nine years old. Jesus," he wheezed.

"Who does deserve this, Jim?" Grissom asked philosophically.

"Not him," the cop answered matter-of-factly. "He paid his dues," he said, referring to Nathan's time in the well. "If it were you or me, we wouldn't have made it though that. But he did and he's here and he deserves to live."

"I may not be a Navy SEAL, but I know which bugs to eat," the scientist said.

"It's not about that," Brass told him. "He had something to fight for. That's why he made it."

They both looked back to the screen as the Nathan family piled into an Escalade and drove off into the Nevada sunset among the buzz of the reporters wrapping up their stories.

"Grissom, I need your help with a case. The dead homeless guy found in front of The Crazy Horse. Lot's of maggots." Sara smiled to both men before she left the office doorway, file in hand.

Grissom turned to Brass. "I have something to fight for."

THE END