Summer Rains
By: Emmithar
Rating: T (Might go up later in the story)
Summary: An accident leaves Greg struggling to remember who he once was as well as where he belongs in the world around him as the rest of the CSI team works together to stop a deadly serial killer before they lose one of their own.
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, the characters, or locations that show up in this story, aside from original characters.
A/N: This is the third story in my first series, I hope that makes sense. If you want to read the stories in order, they go as follows; Just a Quick Stop; Cold as Ice; Summer Rains. For those of you who have read everything in order, for as to what happens with Tom, I'll try and get a little more about him in the following chapters, I was really vague about it here. But as I like to say, 'no promises'. I have to see how the story pans out.
This story here has a lot of angst, heavy more so mentally rather than physically. I'm going to announce now that even though I'm a lab tech, I am not a medical genius, but I am doing my best, so if you see any errors, point them out nicely.
Chapter One: Serial
Greg let out a long unbroken sigh as he turned the engine off. His arms were folded across the steering wheel as he sat in the seat, staring out at the building in front of him. It felt good to be back again. Glancing over he smiled to himself, watching Sara sleep next to him, her head resting against the window, muttering something.
"Wake up Sara, we're here," he told her, reaching over and shaking her awake.
She waved him off, opening her eyes some. "I'm awake already," she muttered, yawning.
Greg laughed, climbing out of the car, watching as she rubbed her forehead. Sara pushed the door open, making her way towards Greg, who was waiting for her under the covering. Sara glanced up at the sky with a short frown, turning her head away from the light drops of rain that fell from above.
Pushing past Greg, the two entered the building, Sara pushing her hair from her face once they were out of the wind. "This," she stated calmly to him, "is the last time I'm wearing a skirt."
Greg smiled as they entered the locker room, setting his bag down on the bench. "You look nice in a skirt though," he prompted.
He heard her scoff, turning to watch as she unbuttoned the blouse, reaching for a new shirt inside her own locker. "That's nice," she muttered sweetly, "these heels are killing me." She kicked them off to prove her point as she pulled on a clean shirt.
"I still can't believe that happened," Sara complained, sitting down on the bench. "I've never been more embarrassed."
Greg scooted closer to her, rubbing her upper back soothingly. "Don't worry," he told her, a hint of mirth playing in his eyes. "I'm sure the judge understood.'
"Oh yeah," Sara commented sarcastically, "I'm sure he has people tripping and falling in his lap all the time."
A slight cough from the doorway redirected their attentions as Warrick entered the room. "There are other ways to win the judge's favor, but you added a nice touch, so I hear."
Sara shook her head, rolling her eyes at the same time as she pulled out a pair of pants. "So what? The entire lab knows what happened?"
Warrick shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Not everyone…Hodges doesn't know, not yet anyways."
Sara groaned, buttoning her pants as she stood. "It won't take him long either. Remind me how he got here?"
Both Greg and Warrick laughed softly, leaving Sara to roll her eyes. "Men," she exasperated, wrapping her arms around Greg's shoulders from behind as she gave him a quick kiss before straitening up. "I'm going to catch Grissom, see what's going on around here."
Warrick nodded, speaking up as she walked by, "Catherine and I are heading out to lunch here in a few, you guys want to come?"
"I'm in," Greg announced quickly. "We haven't eaten since leaving Portland; that is such a long drive."
Sara nodded in agreement, before leaving the room. Warrick turned his attention back to Greg as the young man started changing into fresh clothes himself. "How'd it go?" he wondered.
Greg rolled his eyes, "He pleaded insanity. It actually wouldn't surprise me."
"Honestly?" Warrick wondered, "Even though he admitted to all those killings?"
Greg sighed, shaking his head. "Who knows? As long as he's going away I guess."
Warrick nodded, "Yeah…Well I have something that will make the two of you feel a lot better though."
"Yeah?" Greg wondered, closing his locker before moving to pull on his tennis shoes. "What's that?"
"Your friends, from the convenience store robbery, we found them."
Greg glanced up at him quickly, "Mando and Stitch?" he muttered quietly, before raising his voice, "Alive?"
Warrick shook his head, "Nope, a rescue team doing practice rounds came across them in the desert, notified us. We got the results back yesterday. They never made it out of the desert."
Greg nodded, moving towards the door. He stopped next to Warrick, giving him a small smile. "Well, that's one chapter that's finished."
Warrick patted him on the back, "You two really need to stay out of trouble," he joked lightly.
Greg only rolled his eyes as he left the room, "Lunch?" he asked, turning back to him.
"At two," Warrick informed him, "just heading down the street, nothing fancy."
Greg waved him off, grinning, "Don't care, food is food."
Grissom took one last glance at the group before them, glad to have Sara and Greg back. Night shift had been pulling heavy for some time now, but both of them had finally opted to go back out into the field. Turning back around, Grissom cut the lights turning of the overhead projector.
A picture of woman flashed on the screen. She was bound and gagged, her eyes closed but it was clear she was still alive, able to hold her head up some. At the bottom of the picture, written in ink read 'Marie Daniels, 23 years of age.'
Greg shook his head as his eyes scanned the screen, no one was talking yet, and the silence was eerie. Greg could only stare at her, his eyes drawn the victim's own, even though they were closed, it was still disturbing.
"Marie Daniels, 23 years old, worked for a publishing company. We received this picture in the mail, with fingerprints and blood samples of the victim. The next day, several body parts came in from an unknown source, but after running them, they were a match to our vic. The following day, we found her body, stuffed in a dumpster."
"And we know nothing else?" Greg wondered, looking up at Grissom.
Grissom didn't say anything back, only clicked the small remote button and the picture changed, another women, older this time, but very much in the same state. "Gloria Espon, 34 years of age. Same routine, came in the mail, we received several fingers the following day, and the next, her body showed up, once again in a dumpster."
He turned back to the group, leaning against the chair. "Ecklie has both shifts working on this as of now. Nick interviewed potential witnesses."
Nick nodded, sitting up as he took the lead, "There was no one who actually saw either abduction of either one, and so far, we haven't found any connection between them. Different sides of town, they had no relation, didn't know each other, weren't involved in any clubs or groups. Physical appearance is difference, age, religion."
"So we have a random serial killer?" Greg wondered. "But there is a link between all serial killings, there's something they go after, something that gets them off."
"True," Warrick answered him, "but sometimes it's just the killing itself that gets them off. Although we still think there is a relation between the killings, we just haven't found it."
"So, whoever gets taken, is tortured then killed two days later?" Sara said slowly, shaking her head. "But why send in DNA and everything else? What point does that make?"
Grissom sighed, taking a seat at the front. "It means that whoever is doing this is playing a game, like a cat toys with a mouse before eating it. There isn't a difference here."
He looked back up at the screen as it shut off, Catherine switching the lights on in back before moving to take a seat with the rest of the group. "The bodies were shaved clean of hair, and then bathed in bleach," she added with a heavy sigh.
"Which means any blood work or trace is destroyed," Warrick nodded, clicking the pen he held in his hand. "We got our work cut out for us."
"Any questions?" Grissom asked, looking around the group. When no one said anything he nodded. "Let's get to work then," he glanced to Sara and Greg, obtaining their attention a moment longer. "You two can handle this?"
Sara nodded quickly, but it took Greg a moment to catch what he said. He nodded along side Sara, but was unable to bring about a vocal response.
"We've been working in the field for a month now, we're fine," Sara told him as she pushed her chair back. A single strand of hair fell in front of her eyes, the rest of her hair pulled back into a tail. She glanced down at Greg, waiting for him to say the same, but he only nodded again as he stood up next to her.
"If you can't handle it," Grissom lowered his voice so that only the two would hear. "Just let me know, don't be afraid to do so. It's taken you a while to get back out here, and I'd rather not lose you over this, alright?"
"Yeah," Greg muttered, speaking for the first time. He glanced up at the clock, biting his lip as he turned back, "We still get break?" he wondered quietly.
Grissom shrugged, his face a little tense as he answered. "Is it really necessary?"
"A little hungry," Greg held his index finger and thumb apart for emphasis. "We haven't eaten since this morning. We were going to go at two, but with the meeting with Ecklie and this right after…" he trailed off as Grissom nodded.
"Go get something, but don't be too long. Every minute counts here, understand?"
Both Greg and Sara nodded quickly, pausing as Grissom walked past. Sara jerked her head to the side as she glanced at him. "We'll hit the Deli," she told him. "Its right next door, and it's affordable."
TBC
