Bleeding Love – Part 1

Written By: Ms Maggs

AN: This is a post-episode fic for 9x5(Leave Out All the Rest) and contains spoilers through that episode.

Taking a seat at the interrogation table, Jim Brass eyed the trembling eighteen year old murder suspect seated before him. "Tell me, Travis, why would a clean-cut kid with a 4.0 average and a football scholarship at USC, brutally murder the girl next door?" Narrowing his eyes, he rephrased the question, "Why'd you kill Maggie McMahon?" When he didn't get a reply, he barked, "Why did you kill your sweet little girlfriend, Mr. Wilson?"

"I didn't k…." The word caught in the terrified young man's throat. "I didn't do it." He anxiously ran his fingers through his blond wavy hair. "I swear."

"Do you believe him?" Jim queried, glancing at Stokes, who was leaning against the wall. "Because I don't believe him." In the hallway, he had asked his co-worker to play the role of good 'ol boy, good cop to his jaded bad cop. "We have enough to book him, so…"

"If you don't mind." As planned, Nick pulled up a chair next to the anxious jock and said, "I'd like to ask him a few more questions first."

"It's your breath to waste." On cue, Jim stood and huffed, "I'll be back."

Fully immersed in his role, Nick kindly asked the profusely sweating jock, "Are ya thirsty? We have a water cooler at the end of the hall."

Grateful for what he had previously been denied, Travis nodded, "Please."

The CSI motioned for the uniformed officer to take a walk. It was a routine he had played out with Jim and Officer Stanton dozens of times. "Could you grab him a big cup? Thanks." Returning his attention to the jock, Nick flashed a disarming smile. "You know I played ball in college too."

Forgetting the horror of his situation for a moment, Travis asked, "What position?"

"Receiver, like you." Nick's grin expanded. "Nothin' in the world beats catchin' a game winnin' ball and hearin' the crowd go wild. Nothin'. Not even sex."

Returning the CSI's smile, Travis said, "Best moment of my life was senior year, catching the game winning ball at the state championships."

"I bet you partied big that night." Placing his right hand over his heart, Nick sweetly said, "You know when I left for college, I swore to my mama that I'd always be the same respectful, dependable, God-fearin' small town kid she'd raised. I had every intention of keepin' that promise too, but after my first big game at A&M…" He shook his head and heaved a regretful sigh. "When I walked off the field to the roar of 83,000 fans, every one of them thinkin' I was a hero, hell, I forgot every promise I ever made to my mama and the Lord." He leaned closer. "Girls threw themselves at me after that. Reeeally nice lookin' girls, but not really nice girls. I'm sure it works the same today."

"Yeah," Travis quietly concurred.

"I think you and I have somethin' else in common. When we left home on our scholarships, we left girlfriends behind. Nice girls, who looked nice enough to take to the prom, but who looked nothin' like the chicks givin' it away for free on campus. My girlfriend's name was Suzie Walker, yours was Maggie McMahon, may she rest in peace." The seasoned CSI studied the suspect's eyes. "These last few months I bet you were livin' like a god on campus, bangin' every babe who tosses her thong at you, while poor little clueless Maggie was back here wearin' a purity ring and pullin' straight A's in high school. That's a recipe for disaster right there. What happened when you came back to town for homecoming this week, jocko? Did ya get pissed off when Maggie refused to give ya what you were used to havin' on Saturday night?"

His emotions returning with a vengeance, Travis squeaked, "I didn't plan on…"

"Killin' her?" Nick snipped. "You're sayin' she accidentally got cut up?"

"No, I didn't want to…I…I took her out to our secret spot on the field to..." Staring at a worn patch of floor, the guilt-ridden boyfriend, confessed, "I didn't want to tell her over the phone."

"Tell her what, man?"

"That I cheated on her. That I wanted to break up, that it was…over."

"Oh, it's over alright," Nick coolly replied, "your girlfriend is on a slab in the morgue. That's as over as it gets. Yep, no graduation day for Maggie, or wedding bells, or honeymoon." Watching the boy fall apart, he went for the kill. "She didn't die a virgin though, because you slept with her before you broke up with her…before you fought with her…" though gritted teeth he added, "before you left her to bleed out on a blanket under the stars."

"No!"

"No, you didn't sleep with her?"

"No!" Dizzy and confused, Travis corrected his answer. "I mean yes, I slept with her, but no I didn't kill her. She was alive when I left her there." Lifting his eyes, he pleaded for the CSI to believe him. "I thought if I slept with her that night that maybe I could go back to USC and not want the other girls, that maybe seeing Maggie once a month would be enough, but by the time we were done, I realized how stupid I was for thinking that and I couldn't even look at her. She knew something was wrong and when she pushed for an answer, I confessed everything that had happened at school, and then I told her what I had come home to say. She started bawling and begging me not to break up with her. We had music when we went to the field to fool around. Maggie had her shuffle in the player and she blasted Bleeding Love. When she started singing the words as she cried…I couldn't take it." Soaking his USC t-shirt with tears, he remorsefully said, "I had to leave."

"No, you chose to leave." His anger mounting, Nick snarled, "You took your high school sweetheart's cherry, then told her you had to break up with her because you wanted to screw sluts at USC without feeling guilty, and while she was reeling from the shock of all that, you decided that the best thing for you would be to leave a naked and distraught seventeen year old girl alone on a deserted field at midnight with no way to get home!" Nick glared at the bastard. "I bet your mama's gonna real proud of you when she comes back to town and hears that story."

"I know I should have stayed!" Travis screamed, "I'm guilty of not staying, of not making sure she got home safely, but I didn't kill her!"

"I don't know if you killed her or not," Nick flatly told the blubbering jock, "but I'm absolutely certain that you're responsible for Maggie not bein' alive today."

Accepting the truth, the young man groveled, "I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me you're sorry." Lurching out of his chair, Nick yelled, "Tell Maggie's parents you're sorry they had to ID their daughter's body at the morgue! Tell Maggie's kid sister you're sorry she's an only child now!"

The totality of his actions overwhelming him, Travis grabbed his gut. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Good!" Nick stood by and watched the boy wretch. "Here comes that water you were askin' for, Romeo." He nodded at the returning cop. "Sorry about the smell. I'll make sure janitorial is called ASAP." Brass, who had been watching from behind the glass, was already in the hall waiting for him.

"You really have a knack for making them puke."

"It's a gift." Shaking his head, the tired CSI grumbled, "He's guilty of bein' a horny, self-centered jock, and a shitty friend, but I don't think he's the killer, Jim."

"My thoughts exactly." Brass checked his watch. "Shit, it's almost nine. I have to go meet the new Undersheriff and play nice with others for an hour. Text me if the DNA results come in."

"Will do." Nick continued toward the building exit with his co-worker. "I really need some fresh air."

"I hear Montana still has some." Jim slapped on his sunglasses before stepping outside. "Maybe that's where Sara went."

"Hell, I don't think Grissom even knows where she went this time."

"He doesn't," Brass overshared before heading to his car.

Just as he was debating taking a walk for an hour, Nick saw Maggie McMahon's parents exiting the building, consoling one another. Quickly walking in the opposite direction, he sighed, "No rest for the grieving or the weary."


"Did you get some sleep?" Catherine remarked upon entering Gil's office and seeing her friend looking rested for the first time in a month.

Grissom removed his glasses and rocked back in his chair. "Twelve hours to be exact." Knowing his friend would jump to the wrong conclusions, he opted not to mention he slept at Heather's.

"I take it you heard from Sara."

"Yes, I did. She's doing well." His lover's words replaying in his head, Grissom quietly added, "She's on a research boat, pursuing her Ph.D, and she's…happy."

"I'm glad someone is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Still aching over Warrick's loss, Catherine vented, "You're a zombie, Nick's shutting down, Greg won't shut up – he's dabbing his eyes in creepy counselor Alwick's office on a regular basis, Hodges is…Hodges, and Riley is too damn fresh and perky for me to stomach when I'm feeling ancient and exhausted." Dropping into a guest chair, she heaved a sigh, "Next time you talk to Sara, ask her if there is any extra space on the boat."

Grissom silently prayed for an opportunity to ask Sara that very question, but on his own behalf. "I will."


"I promise," Greg snipped into his cell phone while navigating the bustling lab hallway.

"Don't get snippy with me, Gregory."

"Mom...." Ducking into an unoccupied layout room, he sweetly said, "Look, you know I love you and you know there's nothing I'd like more than to be feasting on your home cooking on Thanksgiving, but it's just not possible. We're neck-deep in backlog, but the deal is we work through it now and then we all get a week off at Christmas. I've seen the memo, the department is bringing in a relief team. I have it in writing. I will definitely be home on Christmas."

"God willing." The always overly concerned mother let her darkest thought slip, "I'm sure Warrick Brown made the same promise to his family right before he was blown to pieces."

Closing his eyes, Greg forced the image of Warrick's autopsy photos from his mind. "We had an agreement. We agreed to focus on the positive, remember?"

"You're right, honey, I'm sorry." Connie Sanders moved on to an equally irritating subject. "How's your love life, sweetheart? Seeing anyone new?"

The exasperated son rolled his eyes. "Mom, I too tired to date my hand, no less a person."

"That's code for I'm still too hung up on…"

"We had an agreement about that too, mother."

"Honey, it's never going to work out. Can't you see that? I can. I bet Sarah Palin can see it from her house."

Rather than yelling at her to mind her own business for the millionth time, he opted for a convenient truth, "Sorry, my break is over, I have to get back to work."

"But you work the night shift and it's ten in the morning."

"Love you, mom!" He pretended not to hear her 'overworked and underpaid' lecture. "Tell dad I emailed him that stuff he asked for, and give Nana and Papa a hug for me. Bye!" After snapping his phone shut, he took advantage of the soundproof room and followed his counselor's orders, releasing his frustration in a primal scream. "Wow, that really does feel good." Before he could congratulate himself for getting a grip, Nick sailed into the room and ruined his peace of mind.

"Hey, do you know the song Bleedin' Love?"

"Too well." Greg stared at Nick, who was zoned out thumbing though a case file and ignoring him. "Hello?"

"Huh?"

"Why'd you ask me about the song?"

"Sorry, I've got a million things on my mind. That case, the high school girl on the football field. I was questioning her boyfriend and he said he left her on the field 'cause she started singin' along with Bleedin' Love. I thought maybe there might be somethin' in the lyrics."

"Maybe this will help you figure things out." Fishing out his iPod from his pocket, Greg said, "You'll find the song under the playlist titled 'Love sucks'." With that he strolled out of the room whistling the song's chorus.

"Hey, Greg!" Nick stepped into the hall. "Sanders!" When it was clear that he was being ignored, Nick returned to the layout room, took a seat on the floor, and stuffed the iPod's buds, into his ears. "Whatever." He shook his head as he scrolled through the alphabetized playlists: Acid Rock, Bob Marley, Country Crap, Greg is a Hopeful Romantic, Love Sucks, Mommy Wouldn't Approve, Schoolhouse Rock, Sex Grinds, Somebody Shoot Me, Our Songs.

Denying his curious mind, Nick forced himself to focus on the McMahon case and selected Bleeding Love. He discovered the song's first line was shockingly autobiographical. 'Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain. Once or twice was enough and it was all in vain. Time starts to pass; before you know it you're frozen…'


"If a relationship can't go forward, it withers."

Grissom paused the video to study Sara's eyes. "She really believes I want her to move on." And why wouldn't she after he had spent years pushing her away? "That's not what I want," he whispered to the grainy image on his laptop screen. "I don't want this job, the lab, my career." His fingertips grazing her cheek, he uttered the words Sara had been waiting to hear for nearly a decade, "I don't need any of this, I just need you."

But was it too late? Drowning in regret, he wished he could turn back time and be the man that Sara had always needed him to be, instead of a romantic coward who had disappointed her time and time again. Looking back, it was easy to see that her heartbroken departure was long overdue. She had been patiently waiting for far too long. She deserved better, and when he couldn't give it to her, she had no choice but to look for it elsewhere. On a boat. In the middle of nowhere. Anywhere but Vegas.

He hit play.

"You don't have to worry about me anymore."

Watching Sara force a smile, he could tell she was desperately trying to close old wounds.


'You cut me open and I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love'. Nick continued scanning the lyrics he had jotted down, his eyes stopping at a particularly poignant line. 'But nothing's greater than the rush that comes with your embrace. And in this world of loneliness I see your face'. Suddenly case file analysis was replaced with happy memories playing like movies in his mind. "Shit." The next thing he knew he was helplessly scrolling to the playlist titled 'Schoolhouse Rock' and scanning the song list for Interjections! "Good times." By the time his favorite part of the song came on, the depressed CSI was grinning like a fool and enthusiastically tapping and signing along to the tune. "Interjections! Show excitement. Oh! Or emotion. Hey! They're generally set apart from a sentence by an exclamation point, or by a comma when the feeling's not as strong."

"Nicky!" Catherine called from the open doorway. Waving to get his attention, she asked, "Why are you holed up in here doing whatever that was you were doing?"

After tugging out the ear buds, he replied, "Hey, gimme a break. I just worked eleven hours. I was takin' five freakin' minutes to clear my head before I dive back into the pile of paperwork on my desk."

"Don't snap at me, I'm just the messenger."

"Sorry."

Strutting over, she handed over an assignment slip. "Day shift is working an 'all hands on deck' and a call just came in. Grissom wants you, me, Sanders, and the perky blonde to take it."

"No way. I can't handle another case."

"Wait, I didn't even tell you the best part, Mr. Clean - it's another S&M freak show. Two DBs and a whole lot of leather." Her squeamish pal's predictable look of disgust didn't disappoint. "There's a chance it's connected to our unsolved S&M case." She tapped her watch. "Meet me out back in five. I want to ride with you, not the newb."

"I'm drivin'."

"Yes, Master," she teased, trying to get him in the spirit of the case.

"Ha ha," Nick grumbled, unamused. Once his coworker was gone, he returned his attention to Greg's iPod, opening the 'Our Songs' playlist. Much to his surprise, disappointment, and relief, every song was still there. "Shit." He gently banged his head against the wall. "Shouldn't have looked."


ANs:

Because some episodes breed plot bunnies that can't be ignored! And after being immersed in political debate, social work, and waaaaaaay too much reality, I needed to spend a little time in a fictional world.

As with some of my other stories - the characters will be fleshed out over time and backstory told in pieces that are put together to form a clearer picture. Should a character's behavior seem odd at some point, it's because of something that hasn't been revealed in the story yet.

* I added this note on 11/27 in response to one reader's concern as to why I had to put *my* politcal/social issue comments in the story - As always, points of view (on issues and politics for example) belong to the character who is speaking them, not necessarily the author. The story takes place in Nov 2008 and having Greg's politically liberal mom crack a Palin joke is Greg's mom being in character, not the author trying to take down Palin :) Greg being raised in a liberal household where Anti-Bush political snark is the norm, means that Greg would be more likely to let some snark slip. Nick was raised in a conservative Republican household and their comments would reflect that. In a future chapter, when a vegan character talks about unjust treatment of animals, that's the character staying in character, not me trying to make every reader a vegan or feel bad about eating meat (I happened to write that scene while eating chicken salad for lunch :D ). I hope that clears things for anyone else who was wondering :)

Thanks for reading!

Maggs