DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI, any of its plots, its characters, or anything else already copyrighted by Mr. Zuiker. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction...I'd be writing the episodes.
Warnings: none
Author's Note: I really hope you enjoy this fan fiction. There will be plenty more to come. Make sure to review to let me know how I'm doing and if I should continue! Also, this story I began writing on March 17th, so the time stamps are based off the day I wrote it. The way the plot flows, there will chapters in which I will time-stamp it to keep you readers in the loop.
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March 17th, 2007
Dr. Gilbert Grissom was never a religious man. Sure, his mother had brought him up as Catholic, but his fascination of the facts of life dulled the finer points of religion in his mind. But he was a man of faith. Everything just wasn't science and math as he often tried to envision it. But he now lay in a hospital bed, well his body lay in a hospital bed. His mind wandered elsewhere, trapped in it with a coma. His body is wrapped in bandages, tubes giving him his breath and life, and it most certainly did not appear to his wife the same man she loved and adored. Sara Sidle-Grissom could not do anything but sit at his side and wait. Wait for his death, wait for his awakening, wait for whatever is destined to swoop down on them. Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown had gone back to the lab after a dozen pestering calls from Ecklie, and Detective Jim Brass was pulled from the bedside by an annoying Sheriff Burdick. Could these people not feel the team's pain? Could they care even less than they already do?
Greg Sanders sat in the corner, desperately trying not to start crying again, and Nick Stokes stood at the window, staring absently out over the city of Las Vegas. Doc Robbins stood in his autopsy room, void of bodies on tables, trying to piece it all together. They all were blaming themselves for not being able to act sooner, and each one knew each other's pain. Catherine and Warrick had been at a scene, Doc had been in the middle of an autopsy, Sara had been waiting for him at his townhouse for dinner, Nick had been watching in the viewing room, Brass had turned his back for a second, Greg had made a mistake, and the suspect was nowhere near sane. Martin Long, a suspect of five murders, had covered his forensic tracks well, but was caught, and now Grissom was hanging in the balance of life and death.