AN:Hey guys! Yes, I'm back and I'm trying my hand at a mystery! I think I have a pretty good storyline set up that should be pretty awesome and I hope to have a little something for everyone, except for romance. Sorry. But there will be some action, some angst, some humor, and a lot of mystery! And right now, the story will focus on Nick and Greg, but the others will definitely be in there.
Summary: It's Coming. You ready for it? - The team becomes involved in Greg and Nick's case that seems to be leading up to something. But what? And can they stop it?
Warning: I don't think there is anything to warn you about…
Random: The song "Never Alone" by Barlow Girl is absolutely gorgeous.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it really. At least nothing that you recognize.
It's coming.
You ready for it?
Catherine stared at the words printed on the paper as a few hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It had been a small note tucked neatly into a envelope addressed to Grissom and herself with no return address. Part of her saw it as nothing more than a horror movie fear; its scary, but you know in the end, its just a movie. But another part of her felt a sense of foreboding that she just couldn't shake.
"What does it say," Grissom said from behind his own paperwork, breaking Catherine from her thoughts.
It was honestly a simple question, and an even simpler answer if she just read the short note out loud, but something was making it a difficult task. Her hesitation prompted Grissom to look up from his reports and cocked an eyebrow at her troubled expression.
"What is it," he asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.
Catherine looked at him, then back at the note before deciding that she was overreacting. She shrugged suddenly and chuckled.
"Nothing probably," she replied, tossing the paper on the layout room table. Grissom craned his neck slightly to see it, and she watched intently as he read it.
Grissom watched the paper for a good amount of time considering it was only six words. It was almost as if he expected it to do something, to explain itself maybe.
"It probably is nothing," he said finally, though he still had an odd look on his face. "There's no return address I'm sure."
Catherine shook her head. "It's probably just some sort of hoax."
Grissom nodded in agreement.
This would not be the first time a threatening letter came in that never followed through, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. It was some sort of urge people got, a lot like calling 911 when there's no emergency. He could never understand it himself, but people would always have the need to sound some alarms.
"Whoa," a voice erupted through the room. "I can just feel the intensity floating around in here, what's up," Greg asked with his signature grin as he took a seat at the table, looking back and forth between Grissom and Catherine.
"Nothing Greg," Grissom answered, sending Catherine a look that told her their previous conversation was over. "You've been coming in early."
The young CSI didn't seem to notice the sudden change in subject and simply smiled wider. "Yeah, I've been getting more sleep, you know? I'm constantly thanking Las Vegas for the sudden drop in tough cases," he said in a bubbly manner.
And it was true, everyone had been noticing a little more of the "Lab-rat Greg" making it's way into the new Crime Scene Investigator Greg, and they were all pleased with the change whether they admitted it or not. He seemed to have found a healthy middle, which allowed for an excellent CSI, but also allowed him to make everyone else laugh more often.
"Well that's good for you, Greg. Just never have any kids if you would like to keep that kind of lifestyle."
Greg smiled in response just as Warrick and Nick came around the corner and into the room, closely followed by Sara. They all took a seat and waited for Grissom to appoint them to their cases.
"Ok," Grissom said, clearing his throat and addressed Catherine and Warrick. "If I'm not mistaken, you two are still working on a case, correct?" Warrick nodded. "Which leaves…" he said as he searched through a small stack of papers. "Greg, you and Nick have a 419," he continued as he passed the sheet over to Greg. "And Sara, you're with me."
The all nodded and prepared to leave, but Grissom stopped Nick and Greg before they left. "The was only one witness, and she was taken to the hospital with non-life threatening injuries, but they couldn't get anything out of her at the scene."
"You get the girl," Nick told Greg. It was not that Nick didn't trust Greg with working a scene by himself, because he knew that the young man had become a very competent investigator, but he still couldn't help but see him as a goofy lab-rat. Besides, Nick had been haunted with horrifying nightmares all night and was really in no mood to deal with real people, as bad as that sounded. But he knew that if he talked to this woman, it would become much more personal than he wanted.
"Alrighty. I'll call you when I'm done," Greg responded as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and they parted ways.
When Nick arrived at the scene, he was greeted by a couple squad cars and the normal group of bystanders, anxious to see what all the "commotion" was about. Nick walked through them and under the caution tape with the same sense of importance he always got when he was allowed where no one else was. It was his own version of fame.
He walked into the apartment building, noting that it was not a cheap one, but more of a middle-class accommodation. He walked up to the door labeled 1101, then frowned at the small carving on the door. He didn't think much of it, and decided to enter the crime scene.
When he stepped over the threshold and into the living quarters, he knew right away that this was going to be a long and complex case.
And to think he had seen it all…
Greg leaned against the elevator railing, going over in his mind just how much he hated hospitals. He always had. And honestly, how could he not after spending most of his childhood in one? It's not like he was always sick or even injured, but his mother insisted on going at the least little thing.
The doors slid open with ease, revealing more white scenery that made Greg's stomach turn. Why did hospitals always have to be white?
He walked over to the front desk and was greeted by a rather cute young receptionist who smiled sweetly at him. He read her name tag and saw that her name was Darcy.
"I'm looking for a Marley Knight," Greg said with his famous grin. "I need to ask her a few questions."
Darcy looked away from Greg and down to her computer and began to click away.
"She's in room 228 with Dr. Mason," Darcy answered, smiling beautifully to Greg.
Had he not been on a case, he would have stayed with this Darcy for a little longer and try his luck with her. But he was on a case and by the looks of it, he probably wouldn't have much luck anyway.
"Thank you, Darcy," he replied, earning a small giggle from the young woman. Maybe he did have a chance.
He walked through the glass hallway, immediately feeling sympathy for the patients, knowing that most of them probably felt like they were on display for everyone to see. Finally, he reached room number 228 and knocked on the glass to announce his presence.
An older gentleman in a white lab coat turned around and looked questioningly at the newcomer.
"I'm Greg Sanders with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I was wondering if I could ask Ms. Knight a few questions and collect any evidence she had on her."
Dr. Mason nodded then walked over to Greg who was still out in the hallway.
"I'll have a nurse bring her personal items in a moment," he said in a normal voice, but then ushered Greg out into the hall a little more. "I will allow you to question her, but she seems to be in quite a bit of distress. She hasn't really said anything, but you can try."
Greg nodded knowingly. He knew that the woman must have seen some pretty horrific things and it wouldn't be unnatural for her to be in shock and not want to talk about it. But it was his job to at least try.
Dr. Mason inclined his head slightly as a farewell, then left Greg standing in the hallway. Greg took a deep breath, not having much experience with traumatized patients, then entered the room.
Marley Knight was sitting on her bed, legs dangling limply off the side. The middle-aged woman didn't so much as look up as Greg entered her room, she just stared off into the distance, though Greg could tell she was not looking at anything particular.
"Hello ma'am. I'm Greg Sanders with the Las Vegas Crime Lab and I need to ask some questions about Anthony Knight." At the mention of Anthony Knight, the woman's eyes flickered but never broke gaze with the ground.
Greg was a little taken aback as she still did not look at him.
"Ma'am," he continued, stepping a little closer to her. "Ma'am, I would really appreciate your cooperation…"
She then mumbled something that Greg couldn't quite make out, never taking her eyes off the floor.
"I'm sorry…" he said with uncertainty. "I didn't catch that."
When she finally looked at him, Greg kind of wished she wouldn't. Her eyes were filled with so many different emotions that he couldn't seem to sort out. But what startled him most was the crazy look that her eyes housed.
She stood up now, facing Greg and looked positively wild. Her frizzy hair seemed to double the size of her head and the hospital gown wasn't helping her image too much either. But it was the way her hands dangled oddly at her side, her fists only partly-clenched that told him something was wrong.
"It's coming," she said loudly this time. Her eyes were now spilling over with tears, though she was not crying. Greg felt a chill run up his spine, but kept it together as best he could.
"What's coming?" He replied clearly, keeping his eyes fixed on the woman.
"It's coming," she repeated, taking a step closer to Greg.
"Ma'am, what is coming," Greg reiterated.
He was now sure that the woman was having some psychotic attack, or maybe she was just this way normally, but either way she was making him feel very uncomfortable.
She suddenly plunged at him, latching onto his shoulders and he could feel her fingernails digging into his skin, but he was too startled to do anything about it.
"It's coming, it's coming…" she said over and over, shaking Greg's shoulders. Greg had no idea how to react; he just stood there and stared in disbelief.
"It's coming," she said again. "You must stop it. You must. It's coming…"
"Ms. Knight! Marley!" Greg shouted, trying to get her to stop her crazed rant. "What is it?"
Just then, he heard a small cry from outside the door and felt arms prying him away from Marley Knight. He watched as the nurse and doctor struggled with the patient until they were forced to inject her with a sedative.
He really didn't know what to make of what he had just witnessed. What was coming, and what was he going to have to stop?
AN: So what did you guys think? It was just the beginning to set the story up so it should be getting ten times better as things develop. Actually, the next chapter should be really good because I will explain what Nick saw in the apartment and then things will begin to unfold.. I'm pretty excited. So, please stick with me and review.. They make me want to update.