A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in updates. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review. :)

Chapter 2: Moving On… Or At Least Pretending To

The casket remained above ground as the CSIs, the only true family Warrick had left, remained standing by it. No one moved, no one spoke, and it felt like no one breathed.

For the third time in two years, they were burying a member of their team. Sara had been first, murdered at the hands of the Miniature Killer. Then, months later, Hodges took his own life in the Trace lab after attacking and shooting Mia. Now, Warrick was murdered at the hands of Undersheriff McKeen.

Mia thought that was bullshit. Why the hell did McKeen kill Warrick? Her brain told her that his motive was about Pritchard and that McKeen knew Warrick would never give up on cleaning up the department. But knowing the why didn't make Mia feel any better, and she wanted to kill McKeen for killing Warrick. But she held herself back, because she didn't want to stoop to his level.

She stood between Nick and Greg, holding each of their hands. Catherine was on the other side of Nick, with Grissom on the other side of her and Brass standing next to him. All five of them were holding hands as if letting go of each other would put them right there with Warrick. Doc Robbins, Dave, Ecklie, Mandy, Henry, Archie, Bobby Dawson, Wendy, and James were all standing behind them, heads bowed in remembrance, while Tina held Eli on the other side of the casket.

Mia wasn't sure what she was feeling. She felt sad that she had lost such a good colleague. But Warrick wasn't her friend, wasn't someone she confided in, and wasn't necessarily someone she even liked. And it had always seemed to her that the feeling was mutual.

So why was she so torn up?

As each member of the team went up to pay their final respects, Mia looked around at the gathered group. Most of the people there were people from the police department or the lab. Some of the people he knew in high school and college were there as well, but mostly it was police.

She closed her eyes, taking her turn at the casket. She said a silent prayer over the casket before putting her hand on it. "I'm sorry," she whispered softly, so only her and the flowers in front of her could hear. "I wish things could've been different. Good bye, Warrick." She walked away, standing beside Greg as the CSIs watched Nick walk up to the casket. The group of them waited for him to say his peace as they held onto one another. Once Nick joined them, they walked away, adjourning to Catherine's house for lunch.

"So, remember the time…" Greg began. Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Sanders, stop," Brass said. "Please."

Mia grinned. "Haven't you figured out by now that no one really wants to hear you?" she said.

"Ouch," he said, frowning.

She made her best, 'I don't care' face. "I'm not going to apologize."

"I wouldn't expect you to. You're too much of a…"

"Do we have to fight?" Mandy asked.

Mia shrugged. "You clearly don't hang around with us too much," she replied.

"How can we?" Archie asked. "You guys are always off doing other things."

"Or each other," James remarked lightly under his breath.

Mia rolled her eyes. "You would say that," she retorted.

He smirked playfully. "I tell it like it is."

"How about I tell you like it is by putting my foot up your…"

"Do we really need the violence?" Greg asked.

"He started it," Mia said.

Greg furrowed his brow. "What ever happened to your 'blame Nick' theory?"

"Nick's not involved in this conversation."

At the mention of him, the group turned to look over at him, finding him staring at the ground. "Nick?" Mia asked gently.

Nick jumped. "Oh, sorry," he said softly.

Mia frowned slightly. "Hey, let's go for a walk."

Nick shrugged, allowing himself to be led off by her. The rest of the group quietly talked among themselves, remembering their fallen colleague.

"Talk to me," she said softly.

Nick sighed. "It just… sucks," he replied quietly, his voice almost inaudible.

Mia took his hand in hers. "I know."

He grunted. "How the hell would you know? You hated him."

"I've lost best friends before."

"Yeah, so? This wasn't just my best friend. He was my brother, man."

Mia shrugged. "I've lost sisters before too," she said.

Nick glared at her. "Don't pass this off so easily," he snapped.

She took a moment to bottle back her anger. "I'm not trying to, Nick. I'm trying to let you know that I understand where you're coming from."

"I don't want you to understand that."

"What do you want?"

He sighed. "Something you can't give me."

"A wild time? I'm sure I could help out with that." He glared at her again, and she frowned. "Sorry, Nick. I'm just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

"Well, don't." She squeezed his hand gently, and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Mia. I'm not being fair to you."

"It's okay, Nick," she said. "It's understandable. You're hurting, and I know what that's like."

He nodded, and the two of them continued to walk around Catherine's neighborhood in silence.

"I watched him die," Nick said softly after a moment.

Mia looked over at him, knowing that he hadn't talked about that day to anyone yet.

"When I got to the car, he was still breathing. He was gasping. He died right there in front of me. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it." The last sentence came out with a trail of tears, and Mia squeezed his hand again.

She struggled to think of the right thing to say, but figured that maybe, in this case, her silence would be good enough for him. She stopped walking, and he stopped as well, turning to face her. She hugged him tightly, circling her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear, figuring that there wasn't anything else she could say. He hugged her back tightly, burying his head into her shoulder as he cried. She rubbed him on the back, trying her best to comfort him as they stood on the side of Catherine's street.

After a while, Nick and Mia returned to the house, finding everyone waiting in the living room. They sat down, joining into the conversation at hand- more remembrance of Warrick. He had meant a lot to them, and he was not going to be forgotten. Not by a long shot.