09:56
A new story – and….yes, it's another post grave danger. This one follows on from when Grissom watched the ambulance going and was left with the rest of his team. Please read on and I would very much appreciate it if you could take just a minute to review the chapter. As I found I was running out of time to add chapters with my last story, I decided to write this whole story outright and post it all at once.
CHAPTER ONE
Gil Grissom dropped heavily into the seat behind his desk, pulled off his glasses and threw them down before bringing a weary hand up to scrub at his face.
It had been one hell of a night.
Almost three hours earlier his team had recovered Nick from his underground hell and he had watched as the ambulance had ferried him off to hospital, flanked by Catherine and Warrick. He had stayed behind with the others to collect any remaining evidence, but it hadn't taken long before Ecklie had shown a rare glimpse of compassion and had sent them all home early to recover from a traumatic shift.
He knew that Sara and Greg had planned to go home via the hospital to check on Nick's condition, but he didn't think he could face it just yet.
He wasn't sure he could face Nick's parents again just yet.
He wasn't sure he could face Nick just yet.
He brought his other hand up to his face as well and rested his head against both of them.
God, he was exhausted. He was aching all over he was so tired.
He rested this way for several long moments before he heard movement in the doorway and someone clearing their throat to get his attention.
He sighed deeply at the intrusion and dropped his hands down.
Brass was standing there with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of scotch tucked under one elbow.
"You alright?" he asked quietly.
Grissom gave a brief shrug with his eyebrows. Truth be told he really didn't know.
Jim nodded. He didn't need words to understand.
He turned and kicked the door shut with a foot and walked to the desk, placing the glasses and scotch on the desk and pulling up a seat opposite his friend.
"Tough night." He said simply as he poured two generous slugs of scotch into each glass.
"Yeah." Said Grissom as he accepted the offered drink. "You can say that again."
The two men sat in silence for several moments while they each took a sip of the scotch. Grissom winced involuntarily at the bite of the alcohol.
"So." Said Brass, "Will the kid be alright, do you think, with that number of ant bites? I've never seen anything like it."
Grissom paused a moment, his lips against the rim of the glass as his mind slipped back to finding Nick. He had watched the video feed for hours and had seen the ants swarming over his young colleague. But nothing could have prepared him for the experience of seeing him in person – seeing the extent of the bites. Or hearing his cries of pain. It must have been agony. Grissom unfortunately knew the process of envenomation intimately through his years of study in entomology.
"He'll be OK." He said "He'll be sore for a few days, but the bites should heal without too much trouble. They'll be giving him medication to stop his body's allergic response and antibiotics to minimise the risk of developing infection when the bites rupture. He'll be alright."
Jim sat back in his chair and looked at the brown liquid in his glass. He wasn't convinced Nick would be alright after what he'd been through. He wasn't convinced at all.
He rather suspected that Grissom wasn't either – that he was trying to convince himself more than anything.
The two men sat in silence a while longer before Brass finally relented and asked the question that had plagued him since they had pulled Nick out of the ground.
"Do you think he'll recover psychologically?"
Grissom looked at him with an almost startled expression.
"Yes." he replied simply. "I do."
Jim gave a bewildered chuckle.
"How can you be so certain?" he asked incredulously.
Grissom shrugged.
"He'll go through the mandatory counselling," he replied, "and he's got a strong family to support him. And…he has us."
Brass nodded and looked back into his glass.
"Are you going to go see him this morning?" he asked.
Grissom sighed and took another sip of scotch.
"I think I'll leave him to spend some time with his family." he said simply. "I might try and see him when he gets home."
"Well," said Brass as he downed the last sip of his drink and stood up from his chair, "speaking of home….."
Grissom gave him a wan smile and handed over his empty glass.
"Thanks for the visit." he said as Jim left the office.
Grissom sat back in his chair and watched the detective trundle down the corridor until he disappeared around the corner. He had appreciated the scotch but it had done nothing to aid his battle against tiredness. He closed his eyes and brought a hand up to push fingers into his eye sockets. A headache had been pushing insistently at his temples since the ambulance left and it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore it. He had a momentary thought that he should take the opportunity to go home and get some sleep. But then, he didn't really think that sleep would be an option. Every time he closed is eyes he saw the same images. He could see Nick begging to be let out of the coffin. He could hear the sobbing. He could feel the racing heart pounding underneath his hand as held him down. And he knew how lucky the young man had been – and how lucky they had all been – that they had found him at all. And that they had found him alive.
He ran through a 'to do' list in his head. The next few days were going to be rough. They would be short staffed without Nick and he would have to plan how to cover the slack with Ecklie. He doubted Nick would be back at work within a month and that was a long time to be down a staff member. And he would have to go visit Nick. He may not be his boss anymore but he was still his friend.
He reflected on their history. Nick had arrived from Texas a green kid. New to Las Vegas and new to working as a crime scene analyst. He was short on experience but not on confidence and enthusiasm. He reminded Gil of a Labrador pup – boundless energy and eager to please but he needed a firm hand to keep him on track and focused.
"Gil?"
The sound of Catherine's voice startled him awake.
She gave him a tired smile.
"Hey." she said quietly.
Grissom scrubbed the sleep from his face self-consciously.
"Hey." he replied.
"Sorry to wake you." she said, coming further into the office and standing with her arms acting as a brace so she could lean against the back of the chair that Brass had been sitting in earlier. "I just thought I'd drop in on my way home and see if you were still here."
"How's Nicky doing?" he asked – tiredness making his voice gravelly.
Catherine raised her eyebrows briefly.
"He was pretty agitated on the ride to Desert Palms but was sleeping by the time I left." she replied. "His parents are with him."
Grissom rested his elbows on the desk and made a pyramid with his fingers – his eyes focusing on his hands.
"I'm surprised he was able to sleep at all." he murmured.
Catherine gave a humourless smile.
"I don't think it was an altogether natural sleep." she replied. "I think they'll keep him snowed under for the next few hours at least."
Grissom was struggling to concentrate he was so tired.
"God, Gil. You look exhausted. Go home. Get some sleep."
Grissom rubbed his eyes again subconsciously and hauled himself out of his seat.
"What's the time?" he asked.
Catherine glanced at her watch, even though she was acutely aware of the time.
"It's almost 10." She replied. "We'll be back here again before we know it."
Grissom smiled.
"Let's go." he said.
Catherine smiled and slipped an arm along Grissom's shoulders.
"Good job tonight, Gil."
Grissom gave a slight nod.
"Likewise." he replied
Now before heading off to the next chapter, please, please review….