I'm new to this whole fanfic thing, so please be patient if I screw up! I don't own any of the CSI characters, although I'd love to. Please note that my knowledge of police policies and procedures is limited, so I'm sorry in advance if some of the more business aspects of this story seem a little far fetched... I'm really all about the romance.
Reviews are welcome, and feel free to criticize, offer suggestions etc., I'm open to everything.
As Alex looked into the mirror regarding her frothy, toothpastey mouth, she smiled and thought to herself, thank God this semester is over; I'm freakin' beat.
It had been a good semester though, and as tough as all her school assignments had been, the hard work appeared to be paying off, mark- wise. She had big plans for sleeping in tomorrow morning, a bit of lounging around tomorrow afternoon, followed by a night out with her friends tomorrow night. They all deserved a good night out on the town.
As a mature student, she hadn't been sure she'd fit in with all the younger students trying to get their teacher's degrees, but so far she'd fit in just fine. Plus, there were plenty of other mature students, and many of them were older than her 30 years. Overall, her last 4 months of teacher's college in Las Vegas had been a blast, and she'd made a shocking amount of friends.
A noise from downstairs broke Alex from her reverie. Stopping mid-brush, she listened carefully for anything out of the ordinary. A moment later, a thud sounded below her, from the region of the kitchen. The panic in her eyes as she gazed into the mirror reflected the sudden anxious pounding of her own heartbeat, and for a moment she could hear nothing else. Finally, she spit out the remainder of her toothpaste, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and eased herself out of her ensuite bathroom, turning off the light as she did so. Her bedroom light already off, she tiptoed across her bedroom to her door, and carefully and quietly opened it a sliver to see if she could hear more. Another thud sounded, but this time it was closer, sounding like it came from the living room... which was inconveniently located at the bottom of the stairs she was now fearfully trying to see down. With the house in darkness, she may as well have been trying to see through a blindfold. The muffled sounds downstairs continued.
Closing her door as quietly as she'd opened it, she looked around her shadowed room in panic, wondering where the hell she was going to hide, while panicky images of rape and murder raced through her mind. Someone's voice seemed to climb out of the recesses of her brain, one emerging from a thousand conversations with a hundred different people over the years: "Burglars work during the daytime, when no one is at home. If someone breaks into your house at night, he's only got one thing on his mind..." Stifling her own panicked gasp, and trying to clear her mind of all useless information, Alex tried to concentrate on the task at hand: How can I save my own life? Where can I hide?
She looked around again and again, and slowly recalled the landlord's monotonous spiel as he tried to encourage her to rent this condo. The owner's son had lived here a few years back, and he was a computer type with a lot of expensive equipment. His father had built a large safe in the closet to occasionally store the extra stuff ... but would it be big enough to fit her? And was the thing even unlocked? She'd never bothered to check it out.
She silently made her way across the room and eased the closet door open, at first unable to see the safe door in the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she could just barely make out the corner of the door behind her laundry hamper... and it was open a crack! She gently pulled her hamper back and eased the door open, trying in vain to see how much room there was inside. Realising time was short, she decided she'd just have to try and wedge herself in there, no matter how small it was.
Feet first, she slid her legs toward the back of the safe, her pyjama bottoms sliding up in the process. She hoped against all odds that she wouldn't hit the back wall after only a foot or so... thankfully, it seemed to stretch back a bit. The space was low though, as though she was climbing into a long metal rectangle, like an air duct or something. As her legs hit the back, she realised it was still a bit short for her frame, but she'd have to make do with it. She folded up her knees a bit, and as a last measure, she tried to pull the hamper back towards the door with her before she closed it. She managed to give her arm a nice scrape along the door latch as she pulled it back into the safe. Grimacing in pain, she felt the blood already dripping on her bare arm, and managed to pull the hamper a little closer to the safe door, hopefully hiding it from whoever was in her house,should they look in her closet.
Her breathing sounded loud to her own ears, and though she knew it was probably just the echo off the metal walls in such a small space, she tried her damnedest to calm herself, and to get through this. The air felt constricted enough on its own in there, so she tried to take small shallow breaths to compensate.
As she finally felt her breathing patterns regulating, a sudden slamming outside made her heart leap to her throat. The intruder had thrown open her bedroom door and was now apparently throwing things around her room. A sudden throaty bellow assailed her ears ... a man... his rage seemed palpable even from her hiding place, as he yelled and threw things against her walls, the sounds of crashing and breaking glass enhancing the fear coursing through her veins.
After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. She knew he hadn't left the room, but he seemed to be at rest for a moment, and this terrified her even more. Thoughts she tried to suppress sprang unbidden to her mind: What the hell is he doing? Does he know I'm here?
After what seemed like a lifetime of quiet, she suddenly heard him thump to the floor, and the banging began anew, this time much closer to the closet. She had been unable to fully close the closet door from her position, and now she saw a sliver of light shining through to the unsealed safe door. Her heart beat so loudly she couldn't hear anything else for a moment.
As the final panic set in, she felt a sudden pain in her head, and then all was darkness.
Nick Stokes and Catherine Willows followed the officer to the front door, listening to his report along the way. "Around 11:30pm, the neighbours reported hearing loud smashing noises and someone yelling from the upstairs area of the condo. They said it seemed to continue for at least 15 minutes, then stopped for a while, so they thought it was over. But then it started up again and kept going for a good 15 more minutes, and this time it was from everywhere in the condo... upstairs, downstairs... They called the police before it had even finished. We checked it out, but nobody's here now. No sign of the tenant- an Alex Winters. Somebody did a number on the place though." The officer held the door for them as he gestured inside to the living room. "It's a mess, man. Everything's trashed."
"You guys touch anything in here? Walk anywhere without hugging the walls?" Catherine asked.
"Man, you guys know we aren't a bunch of rookies. You always gotta ask that?"
Nick responded with his usual reply. "Since you're not a bunch of rookies, you should know that we have to ask that every time, man. Get over it."
The officer smirked and shook his head, moving out of the way so they could work the scene.
Surveying the damage, Catherine sighed. "Hmmmm. Someone has a bad temper. This tenant is not getting their damage deposit back." Catherine shined her flashlight towards the back of the room. "Kitchen looks to be back there. I think I'll make my way through this floor towards the back. You want to grab the upstairs?"
Nick nodded. "I'm on it."
He stayed close to the wall as he made his way up the stairs, avoiding touching the banister, and shining his light back and forth as he went, hoping for a clue to jump out at him. As he reached the top of the stairs, a single door was ajar, and he gently pushed it open with his gloved hand. The bedroom. It was even worse in here than downstairs.
Nick's brain started its usual on-the-job inner-monologue: What the hell happened here? Why would someone want to do this?
He shook his head as he envisaged the rage of the person who had smashed the crap out of just about everything in the room. Pieces of mirror reflected from the carpet, and numerous other chunks of glass, intermingled with clothes, papers, broken bits of lamp, and so on. Nick couldn't imagine ever losing it to this extent. He'd seen a lot of sick people out there, and the things they did to others sickened him, but even then he couldn't imagine himself ever snapping like this.
He continued to survey the damage, hoping that something unusual would stand out to give him some sort of clue as to what went down here. He crossed to the bed and noticed a series of stains crossing the bedspread and pillows. It looked fresh, and it looked all too familiar.
He turned towards the door, planning to head downstairs for the ALS to see what else he could turn up, and probably some luminol just in case, when a sparkle from the closet caught his flashlight beam. Moving in that direction, Nick took a closer look inside, and spotted a door latch almost hidden by a clothes hamper, which was pressed tightly against it. He also spotted a substance on the latch, and it looked all too familiar as well.
Looks like I don't need the luminol for this one, he thought, as he carefully moved the hamper back. It was wedged tightly between the side wall and the door on the back wall, but with a little manoeuvring, it came free... and suddenly the small door on the back of the closet popped open... and with it a brunette head and one hand protruded from inside.
Nick stepped back in shock, but quickly recovered and shouted out "Catherine!" as he knelt beside the opening and felt for a pulse... The face became visible at the same time Nick realized she had no pulse. She was still very warm though, and Nick pulled her free and prepared to give her CPR. He was just beginning to blow into her airway as Catherine reached the doorway.
"Oh my God..." She turned on the ceiling light, switched open her cell phone and dialled the emergency line. "This is Catherine Willows. Get an ambulance to our location ASAP. We've found an injured woman on the scene and we need the paramedics right away. She's unconscious and Nick Stokes is administering CPR right now." She listened to the response and ended the call.
Nick continued CPR for about a minute, and was quickly beginning to lose hope when suddenly the woman below him inhaled a huge breath, and then began to cough, her eyes watering. He hastily moved his hands under her shoulders and tried to support her as she began to lean forward, as if to sit up.
As she slowly became more aware of her situation, Alex tried to clear the mist from her eyes, and looked up at the face staring down at her. At first all she could see was a blur surrounded by fuzzy light, and cliché images of guardian angels sprung to mind. Slowly, the face became a little clearer, and she stared into a pair of warm, concerned brown eyes. Then he spoke. "Miss? My name is Nick Stokes and I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Can you hear me? Are you alright?" He continued to stare down at her, the concern still evident in his eyes.
"Ye..." She coughed again, and her throat felt parched. She tried again. "Yeah, I'm OK, I think. ... Am I OK? What's going on?" She slowly pushed herself to a sitting position and looked around herself in confusion, now noticing the disaster that used to be her bedroom. What the...? She looked back at the Crime Lab guy, and also noticed a woman behind him. Nick noticed anxiety creeping into her features and tried to pre-empt it.
"This is Catherine Willows. She's also from the Crime Lab. Miss, what's your name?"
Alex tried to focus, but everything felt crazy, like she might be losing it. "Miss?" The kind-eyed man prompted her.
"Sorry... what was your name again? Nick?"
"Yeah, Nick. Nick Stokes."
"Um.... My place... I don't know... Jesus." She felt helpless and she hated herself for it, even though she knew she couldn't help it. She could feel the tears welling, but she tried to fight them back. What had he asked her? Oh yeah, my name... "Alex. Alex Winters."
Catherine jumped in. "Is that short for Alexandria?"
"Um, no. Just Alex. My parents had it before I was born, and figured they were safe whether I was a boy or a girl."
Catherine smiled. "I always liked the name Alex... either for a boy or a girl." She grinned. "I named my daughter Lindsay, but it was a toss up with Alex."
Alex smiled back. "That's funny- my parents actually tossed around the idea of calling me Lindsay after I was actually born, but they decided to stick with Alex."
Feeling much calmer than she had just a minute before, Alex smiled. She realized what they'd been doing, trying to distract her from the craziness of the situation, and keep her calm. She felt gratitude swell within herself, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she smiled up at the two strangers in front of her.
Feeling strangely more confident, she tried to stand up, but felt the blackness creep back, and she started to lose her balance. Nick was there suddenly, holding her up and steadying her in his arms.
"Easy now... you've just gotten your breath back. You better take it slow. I'm going to take you outside for some fresh air, OK?" Again, that look of gentle concern. And he had a kind voice as well, with some kind of accent...southern? Whatever it was, it soothed her and Alex didn't feel any urge to resist as he guided her towards the stairs.
He eased her downstairs and out to the front yard, never removing his supporting arm from around her shoulders. The officer at the door followed them. When they reached the Denali, Nick eased her onto the back seat, legs dangling out the side. She shivered a bit, and Nick removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, his body heat still warming it. When she looked comfortable, he carefully questioned her. "Miss Winters, can you tell me what happened?"
Alex looked at the earnest expression on his face and for some reason felt perfectly safe. She recounted everything she could remember, and noticed that Nick grinned a little to himself when she mentioned the toothpaste. As the police officer copied everything down, the ambulance made its noisy appearance next to the Denali, and two paramedics climbed out and headed over to them.
Nick pointed to Alex. "This is Alex Winters. She was trapped in a closed wall safe of some kind when I found her. She's got a nice cut on her arm, and I think this contusion on her forehead is from the door being slammed into her when it was knocked shut. I also think she ran out of oxygen because when I found her she wasn't breathing."
At this statement, Alex raised her head and stared at Nick, her eyes wide with shock at this revelation.
Nick looked back at her carefully and continued. "I gave her CPR and she came back around after about a minute."
Alex couldn't take her eyes off Nick, and a million thoughts ran through her brain. Who the hell was in my home? What happened to me? Was I dead?
As she stared into his eyes, the realization overtook her: I think this man saved my life tonight...
A shiver ran down her spine at the thought.