Disclaimer: I don't own CSI of course.
A/N: After watching way too many promos for the coming CSI premiere, I gave in and wrote a Living Doll/Dead Doll fic as well. So there are spoilers for these episodes obviously, although I do not know what will happen in Dead Doll. I just added my own interpretation to what I saw in the promos.
Summary: Greg could not look at this miniature any longer. He had to get out and search for her in the real world. Spoilers for Living Doll/Dead Doll. Greg POV.
The Most Important Thing
Greg had not wanted to believe it at first. Grissom had found another miniature in his office. Sara was gone. The doll represented her as the next victim.
He had not really believed it until he had seen the miniature himself, staring at it together with his co-workers. A red car was lying upside down in the miniature desert and a small brunette doll was lying under it. Grissom had lifted the car so that they could see clearly that the doll was wearing a CSI vest. When the car was placed at its original place, they could only see the small arm of the doll. The doll was moving its hand, probably through some electronic mechanism. The doll was still alive. The doll represented Sara. Sara was still alive.
Greg stared at the movement of the hand, afraid it would stop any moment. It wasn't real. It could not be that Sara's live would end when the doll's life ended, maybe just because the battery was empty.
They examined the miniature and Greg felt as if they were investigating another crime scene, the doll their newest victim.
He couldn't fail Sara now. She had taught him so much about the work as a CSI; he couldn't fail her now when she needed it the most that he applied that knowledge.
At first Grissom, and then Sofia had tried to get Sara's location out of Natalie. They had failed. Nick and Warrick had left to look at Natalie's place. They had reported scary impressions, but no results yet. Catherine was out to examine Sara's car. Brass had gone to order a helicopter that could search the desert. And Greg was still here, trying to get any hint out of grains of sand and glue, ready to knock the microscope out of Hodges' hands when he could not give him any useful information.
Grissom returned into the room now and looked down at the miniature scene. Greg looked at his boss hopefully. Maybe he had found a magical solution.
"It's raining," he said and Greg frowned, thinking of Sara who was trapped somewhere out in the desert. He could see now that Grissom had brought a can of water. Greg watched in consternation as Grissom poured the water over the miniature scene. The doll got surrounded by water and finally submerged. The little hand stopped moving, and Greg felt as if somebody had kicked him into the stomach. The little doll was dead. Sara…
"I think the water caused a short circuit," he said quickly, almost pointing out that Sara wouldn't get a short circuit. He knew all too well though that this wasn't what Grissom had tested. The doll would have drowned, if it had been a living being in the first place.
Neither of the both men exchanged any of the fears they were feeling. Grissom put down the can, still staring at the dead doll. At this moment Brass entered the room.
"The helicopter's ready," he said. "Any of you wanting to go?"
"I'm going," Greg said quickly. He needed to get out of here. He could not look at this miniature any longer or he would go crazy. The miniature did not matter anymore. The doll was dead, the parts of the model useless in their search. He needed to get out and search for Sara in the real world. Brass nodded and Greg followed him outside.
It was in the early morning when the helicopter went up into the air and Greg hoped that the day would not progress too far until they found Sara. If she was still alive, she shouldn't be out in the desert in the heat that was to come. She was still alive of course, Greg reminded himself, checking if he had his binoculars ready. He was accompanied in the helicopter by a technician who would do thermal imaging, hoping to find Sara in case she was not visible from the air.
Miles and miles of desert spread under them, but there was no sign of the car. A few times Greg grew hopeful when he saw something through the binoculars but on closer viewing it turned out to be something else every single time. It had long stopped raining and Greg could see that the desert was almost completely dry again; the sun was doing its job. The temperatures were rising.
The helicopter took a soft turn to the right and Greg was pressed against the side for a moment. His view went abruptly to his left when he spotted a distinctive mass on the ground in the distance. Pushing the binoculars into his face, he tried to get a closer look. It was a totaled, red car, turned upside down.
"It's there," Greg yelled. "She's there."
Jumping of the plane wasn't an option and Greg knew that very well, but that didn't hinder the wish to do exactly that to penetrate his mind. He wanted to get down there, but the only thing he could do now was listen to the pilot who messaged that they had found the car. They were way past the spot where the car was located by now and Greg stretched to look backwards out of the window, but he was not able to see it anymore. Seemingly arduously the helicopter was turned around in a long curve and soon Greg was able to see the wrecked car again. The pilot repeated messaging the location and announced then that he was going to land, but that it would be a fair distance away from the car.
Greg nodded. There wasn't anything he could do, but he knew that the rest of his team and certainly many other people were already on their way to the location.
Greg was not sure how much later it was that he was staring out of the passenger's window of the police car, taking in the once again endless stretching of the desert along the road on that they were speeding to the location of the scene. Greg turned to look at Sofia who had picked him up after the helicopter had come down. She appeared strained as well. Funnily Greg remembered now a conversation he and Sofia had led when she had still been working at the lab. It had been about how he shouldn't lose his humorous self. Greg guessed that there couldn't be a situation in that he would have been less able to display that he had not lost himself.
He was afraid of what they would find at the scene. At first there had been hope when he had detected the car. At least they had found it. Sara would not have to be out in the desert sun for any longer, would not have to lie under that car for any longer. But that they had found that car, had gained this success, did not mean that she was still alive. Maybe they had failed after all. Maybe she was not alive anymore. Maybe Natalie had killed her right at the beginning, maybe she had died quickly under the weight of the car, maybe she had passed away a few minutes ago.
Greg rubbed his eyes, hiding his face from Sofia despite that her eyes were focused on the road anyway. Then he was able to see cars in the distance. They were standing close to what Greg recognized as the scene he had seen in two different perspectives so far. The first time it had been in the miniature, the second time his view from up in the air.
Eventually Sofia stopped the car and Greg jumped out, hurrying over to the totaled mustang. His steps slowed down when he caught sight of his friends.
Nick was staring into the distance and Greg was not able to see his face. Grissom was standing near the car, apparently lost. Catherine had sunken onto the ground, looking just as helpless as Grissom did. Nobody was at the car.
It couldn't be… Greg almost stopped walking. Why on earth was nobody attending to Sara? She was under that damn car. Why was nobody with her, helping her? Greg stopped. He could not go there. Sara couldn't be dead.
He had thought of the day when Sara had come to him after he had been beaten up by that gang. She had been the first comfort he had felt after that terrible night.
He had wanted to come for her as well. He could not be too late. She could not be dead. He wanted to go to her. He did not want to see her like that. Dead. Crushed. The thought of never seeing her again that came down on him now in all its reality, drove tears into his eyes. He wanted to see her again, but he did not want that the last image of her that would remain in his mind was that of a hurt, crushed, drowned body.
Still, he needed to see her. He made some steps forward again and now he caught Catherine's attention.
"Greg," she called him, but he only looked at the car, walking slowly towards it. "Greg," Catherine called again. "She's not here."
It took a moment before Catherine's statement registered in his brain. She was not here. Meaning, she was not under the car. Meaning, she was maybe not dead.
"She's not here?" he asked helplessly, letting out a sad laugh in surprise and relief. Catherine shook her head. Greg's mind was racing. "Maybe Natalie fooled us. Maybe she didn't take Sara after all, maybe-" Maybe she had killed Sara already, hid her body somewhere else and had just wanted to torture them with the hope of finding her in time. Greg did not want to end that thought.
"She was here," Nick said now, coming towards Greg and Catherine. "We found her vest." He showed them the CSI vest that bore Sara's name.
"Do you think she got out?" Greg asked hopefully. Nick looked helpless, not answering the question.
"The rain," Grissom said simply, and since Greg had seen him pouring the water over the miniature this statement wasn't as enigmatic as it could have been. Greg imagined the water pouring down in the desert, streaming along, surrounding the car, submerging anything below it… washing away the body in the worst case scenario.
"Maybe the water helped her getting out," Greg voiced the hopeful alternative. He looked at the ground and wondered where the water would have been streaming along. The desert was dry now, there was no puddle to see anymore. And neither was Sara. Greg had no idea how far the water could have carried her.
Greg touched the pocket of his vest. He still had the field glass he had used in the helicopter. He saw that Grissom had one as well. Greg took his and looked into the distance. He wondered if he should get up into the air again.
He went around the car and looked at the ground below it, trying to estimate where the water had flown along. He walked downwards, following the route he guessed the water had taken. Greg looked ahead. It could have carried her onwards a long distance. Grissom, Nick and Catherine were now looking around as well. Sofia had come up to them, too, but Greg did not pay attention to what they were doing.
He made use of the binoculars again, still following the way that went slightly downwards. After his spirits had been dampened at the downcast sight of his friends, his sense of urgency was picking up again. If Sara was still alive out there, they had to find her quickly. He hastened his step, knowing he would not be able to run for a long distance anyway, as the heat of the sun was increasing noticeably. Also, he did not want to risk missing any clue to where Sara could be.
He got another look through the field glass and spotted something that made him leap into a run. There was shrubbery some way ahead and he was sure to have seen a human form lying next to. It hadn't been moving.
Greg ran and he could hear somebody calling behind him, knowing that the others would wonder what he had found. Greg did not care to turn around or call back.
His eyes rested on the form ahead of him and he felt the same fears that had plagued him when he had been approaching the car. Sara had to be alive. He almost cried out when he saw the figure moving slightly. He was almost there.
"Sara," he called, hardly managing to call loud enough as he was panting hard by now. She did not seem to react on his call.
He sank down once he had reached her. She was breathing, that he could see.
"Sara," he called. She did not react and he reached out to brush her curled-up, messy hair out of her face carefully. Her face was wounded and Greg removed his hand quickly, afraid to hurt her. He saw that one of her arms was lying in an unnatural angle, while the hand of the other one had deep, bloody scratches on it and was still clutching to some branches.
"Sara, we're here," he said quietly. He would have liked to tell her that he had come for her as she had come for him months back. He would have liked to tell her many things, but Greg did not think they were that important right now.
The most important thing happened when Sara opened her eyes.
