Title: Silent Witness

Author: Lifeguard

Rating: K+ for references to violence

Spoilers: Maybe some for Grave Danger

Disclaimer: In a perfect world I would own Nick (did I say that out loud?). I own nothing. I am a poor student, so please don't sue (because I owe all my money to the university already).

Summary: What happens when the only witness to a brutal crime cannot tell her side of the story? Can Nick help her bring justice to the victim?

Author's Note: Yet another story which started off as a dream, and then got written down. Tell me if it was worth getting out of my head. Constructive feedback is always welcome. I love reviews so don't hesitate to hit that little button at the bottom of the page! Enjoy!

She slipped the key in the door as she balanced the bags of warm take out food in her arms.

"Papa?" she called out, as she closed the door behind her. Placing her purse in the front hall closet, she made her way into the kitchen, depositing the food on the table. She then went back to the stairs and climbed them, noticing a light on in the room at the top.

"Papa? Where are you?"

She could hear him talking on the phone, and she assumed that was why he hadn't answered. Poking her head into his room, she gasped. The normally neat and tidy space was strewn with clothes and papers, mostly directed at the suitcase on the bed. The older man turned towards her and hung up the phone. There was no welcoming twinkle to his eye, only a sense of panic written on his face.

"Papa? What's going on?" she said slowly.

"Bella, you shouldn't be here…"

"But I called and said I was coming, I brought dinner. What's going on?"

"Please Bella, leave. It's for your own good."

She raised her eyebrow, her face now reflecting the panic in his, "Please tell me-"

She was cut off by a crash coming from downstairs.

"Hide Bella! Quickly! Into the next room, the closet!" he whispered frantically, pushing her across the hall.

She heard the front door swing open as he pulled the door to the closet shut, handing her the phone, "You must keep quiet Bella, and then call the police."

"Where are you old man?" a voice called out downstairs.

The older man scurried from the room into his own, closing the door and locking it. She heard footsteps on the stairs and then two men in black were banging on her Papa's door.

"We know you're in there old man!"

One of the men kicked at the door, and she heard the wood splinter. It swung open, and through the slits in the closet door she watched the horror unfold.

Nick Stokes observed the broken window, and then stuck his hand through it. Just as he suspected, he could reach the dead bolt on the door through it. He stood up and went inside the house. The officer standing by the stairs directed him towards the body. Nick was the first on scene, as the team was busy. Grissom was supposed to be on his way with David shortly. The scene had only been called in half an hour ago, the neighbours had heard screams and other noises. It was initially a B and E, but the first officer on scene quickly discovered the body upstairs. There was no need for paramedics. Nick was also hearing now that a 911 call had come from the house about the time of the murder, but there was no one on the line. All the operator could hear was the old man begging for his life in the muffled background. There had only been one whisper of 'help me' before the line had gone dead.

The CSI went upstairs and stuck his head into the room with the body. He cringed slightly at the sight. The old man had been worked over, beaten almost beyond recognition. There was so much blood that Nick could hardly tell what the cause of death had been. He took out his camera and snapped some initial shots. His eyes wandered around the room. There was a suitcase in the middle of the bed with clothes thrown into it. There were also papers littering the bed and desk. Nick wondered if the victim had been trying to leave in a hurry, and if the room had been searched. He snapped some more pictures. Nick wandered over to the desk, flipping through some pieces of paper. There were some smudges of blood on the first few papers, and Nick took a photo of that, then bagged them. It was then he noticed the phone cradle. Where the cordless phone would normally sit was an empty spot. He remembered the 911 call he was told about and observed the phone base. He found the button he was looking for, pressed it and waited. Somewhere behind him, a faint beeping began. Nick knew the find button was useful, he was always loosing his cordless phone around his place. He followed the beeping towards the bedroom door, and out into the hall. Then it stopped. Annoyed, he went back into the room and pressed the button again, then quickly went out into the hall. It was coming from the room across the hall. Nick entered the room, which was painted a faded pink, almost a dark rose colour. There were photos on the wall of a woman at various ages, with family members and the victim. The woman had long dark hair, bright blue eyes and a dusting of freckles across her face. The room seemed to have been the woman's at some point, as the pictures and style of the area would suggest.

Turning his attention back to the beeping, Nick moved towards it. It was coming from the closet. He thought this was an odd place for the phone to be. Moving slowly, he reached out to open the door, and when he did his jaw dropped.

Crouched inside, as far as possible in the corner was the girl from the pictures. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, and her face turned away in fear, eyes squeezed shut. She shook violently and then sobbed out loud. Nick dropped down to one knee,

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he reached out to touch her arm and she recoiled.

"My name is Nick Stokes, I'm with the crime lab. Don't be afraid, I just want to help you," he cooed.

The young woman opened her eyes and turned her head hesitantly towards the CSI. Tears streaked down her face, her normally bright blue eyes were red and blotchy, faded to almost the colour grey. Nick noticed the phone on the ground beside her.

"Were you the one who called 911?"

She nodded slightly but didn't make any other sound.

"Ok, hold on one second, I'm going to get you some help," Nick turned towards the door, "We need a medic up here please," he called, knowing that the woman was probably in severe shock.

He turned back to face her, "Can you tell me your name?" Silence. "Do you live here?"

again, she didn't answer. "Do you think you'll come out of there for me?" he tried.

Her eyes seemed to grow a little bigger at the suggestion of moving from her spot, and despite the small space she tried to scoot further into the corner.

"Alright, not ready to come out yet. That's alright," Nick said, knowing it would take the paramedics a few minutes to get there. It would probably take a bit more coaxing to get her out anyways. Nick glanced behind him and noticed that the closet had a clear view of the room across the hall where the body lay. From the slits in the closet door, Nick figured that this woman had seen the entire murder take place. He then wondered if it was the sight of the body that was keeping her in her hiding spot. He got up slowly and moved towards the door. She didn't take her eyes off of him. He slid the door over so that the body was no longer in sight, and then went back to kneeling in the closet.

"There, that's a little better," he mused out loud, "Do you know the man in the other room?" Nick asked gently.

Her eyes fell to the ground and her fingers played with the hem of her red skirt. She didn't answer, but a fresh wave of tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry about what happened to him. I'm going to find out who did this and make sure they pay for it though," he told her.

Both of them looked up as the door swung open and two paramedics came in. Nick faced the girl, "These guys want to make sure you're ok, so you're going to have to come out of there," he said, beginning to move out of the way. Before he could get up, her hand touched his arm. It was ice cold and it stopped him. She locked eyes with him and she seemed to be pleading with him to stay.

"I won't go if you don't want me to."

Her grip tightened on his arm, "I'll stay then," he replied, offering his other hand to help her up. She rose slowly, on wobbly legs. She seemed to shake more as she got up. She glanced over Nick's shoulder to the door way, and suddenly she collapsed against his body, shook violently for another second then fainted.

"Whoa!" Nick exclaimed as supported her frame. The paramedics rushed over and lowered her onto the gurney, placing an oxygen mask on her face.

"Poor girl saw everything huh?" one asked Nick.

"Yeah. I want to ride with you guys ok?" he answered.

Even from a distance Grissom could tell that Nick was worried. He was pacing the hospital hallway, running his hands through his hair, or wringing them together. The night shift supervisor wondered how personally involved his CSI had already gotten with the case. He approached him, and the younger man noticed his arrival. Grissom handed Nick a cup of coffee as a greeting,

"Have you heard anything from the doctors?" he asked.

Nick shook his head, "Not yet. Did you find out who she is?" He knew that Grissom had been working at the crime scene.

"Her name is Anna Riley, we found her purse in the front hall cupboard. She's the victim's granddaughter. His name is Robert Riley."

"Does Anna live there with him?"

"No, her driver's license has her in Henderson. It looks like she brought him dinner, probably just a visit."

Nick nodded, "Any leads on motive or suspects?"

"The papers scattered around the room are business expense reports, and it looked like the victim was trying to find some lost money in them."

"Did he run his own business?"

"A little European restaurant that he managed. We're getting an employee list."

"Excuse me," both men turned to face the woman in the white lab coat, "Are you Mr. Stokes?"

"Yes, and this is Gil Grissom."

"I'm Doctor Sophie Brown," they shook hands.

"How is she doing?"

"Well your Jane Doe-"

"Her name is Anna Riley," Nick interjected.

"Anna arrived here in severe shock, as you know, and she was pretty out of it in the trauma room. We managed to stabilize her, but not before she slipped unconscious again. She hasn't woken up yet, and I think she might stay this way for awhile."

"Do you mean she's in a coma?" Grissom asked.

"No, not a coma. She didn't sustain a head injury or any injuries that would cause one. Unconsciousness like this can happen to people who have experienced a traumatic event and gone into severe shock. It's a coping mechanism that allows them to deal with what has happened. Once they wake up they are able to deal with the situation better, it's like taking a time out of life I guess."

"When will she wake up?" said Nick.

"It could be a matter of hours or it could be days. I've heard of cases where its been a months."

"We would appreciate it if you gave the crime lab immediate notice when she wakes, we need her witness statement. We're also going to need the clothes she was wearing." Grissom told the doctor.

"Of course."

"And did you do a rape kit on her?"

"Yes, it was negative."

Grissom sighed, "Good."
"Is she able to have visitors?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow at Nick, "I kind of want to stick around a bit, see if she wakes up soon," the younger CSI explained.

"I'll have a nurse take you to her," Dr. Brown replied.

"Thank you doctor," Grissom said, and she left to tend to another patient.

Grissom faced Nick and the Texan's face had guilt written all over it, "I know what you're thinking Griss, that I'm personally involved with this case, and that I should know better, for all we know she is a suspect. But I'm not Griss, I just want to make sure that whoever did this gets put away for it, and we need her statement. Besides, I found her, and she wanted me to stay, so she'll be more likely to talk to me. I'll only stay for a bit, then I'll get right back to the crime scene."

A hint of a smile crept across the supervisor's face, "Good, then I don't need to say anything but goodbye," he said eyeing Nick, and then walking down the hall.

Nick could have sworn that Grissom was psychic at times.

"Ah, Gil, perfect timing as always," Doc Robbins greeted the night shift supervisor, "Want to guess what the cause of death was?" he pointed towards the old man on the steel table.

Grissom took a good long look at the body, recalling the crime scene in his mind. Cleaned off, the body had massive bruising, other signs of being severely beaten, and several stab wounds. Grissom observed one that was just below and to the left of the stomach, "I would have to say that was the fatal hit, and he bled out from it and a combination of the other factors," he pointed to it.

"Wrong."

Grissom gave a quizzical glance to the coroner, "Wrong?"

"The actual cause of death was a fatal blow to the head with a blunt object of some sort."

"What is a shower curtain rod Alex," Grissom joked, remembering the displaced and broken rod.

"We'll accept that answer," he joked back, "I hear we have a witness."

"An unconscious one. Nick's at the hospital waiting to see if she wakes up."

"I see. Does this witness have a name?"

"Our witness is Robert Riley's granddaughter, Anna."

"Based on the beating Robert took, I would think that Anna is lucky not be to be on the slab beside him. I can only imagine what the killers would have done to her if she had been found."

Grissom nodded in agreement, "Did you find anything else on the body? What do you think he was stabbed with?"

"Stab wounds came from a knife with serrated edges, but bigger than say I kitchen knife. I found a few black fibres around his neck and face, I sent them off to trace. Sorry I can't tell you much else."

"That's alright, you did what you could," his pager interrupted him, "That's the lab, I've got to go."

"See you later then Gil."

Nick woke slowly, and rolled his head from side to side, trying to work out the cramp in his neck. He stretched and rubbed his face, glancing around the room. The silence of the room combined with the steady beeping of the machines and being tired had lulled him to sleep in the chair next to Anna's bed. He realized then just how uncomfortable sleeping in a chair was. He looked at his watch and his eyes grew wider. He had been asleep for a good two hours. He should probably get back to the crime scene or Grissom would be on his case. His eyes wandered to the bed where Anna still slept. She looked so peaceful lying there. He didn't really want to leave yet, but he remembered what the doctor had said. Slowly he got up, his muscles protesting. As he made his way towards the door he didn't notice her begin to stir. Just before he left he turned back to look at her one more time. It was then he saw her eyes begin to flutter gently. He immediately went back and sat on the chair beside her bed.

"Anna?" he whispered.

She moved her head from side to side and he could see her struggle to open her eyes.

"Anna? Can you hear me?"

Then, slowly, her eyes began to open, and her blue eyes met his.

"Hi," Nick said quietly.

She searched his face with her eyes, but it seemed as though she didn't recognize him.

"Do you remember me?" he asked her.

Her brow furrowed a little and then she spoke, "I…I know you…but I don't know from…from where?"

"I'm Nick Stokes, we met earlier this evening. Do you remember what happened?"

Again she looked confused, "I…I…why am I in the hospital?" she suddenly began to become more aware of her surroundings. Her face went from confused to panic.

"Hey, hey, its ok. You're alright. You passed out a few hours ago. You've been through a lot."

"What have I been through?" her blue eyes were held fear in them.

"You mean you don't remember what happened?" it was Nick's turn to be confused.

She shook her head, "No…no I don't. What happened?"

To Be Continued…