This one's been playing around in my head for awhile now and I decided to let it loose on the rest of you, lol. I may play a little fast and loose with the timeline, character history and established storyline but please remember...Suspension of Disbelief, dear friends. With that said, I hope you all enjoy and I really won't mind if you leave a review, lol. The parts in italics may not make sense for awhile but if you don't figure it out in the first few chapters, please rest assured, it will make sense before too long.
~~LIVING THE DREAM~~
"Mallory Nicole!"
Rubbing the towel over his damp hair, he couldn't help the chuckle rumbling through his chest at her exasperated tone. He could only imagine what the three year old was up to. Given the time, she was either giving mommy a run for her money with getting dressed or breakfast...or possibly both. Mallory had taken to undressing herself during breakfast.
He deposited the damp towel into the hamper and finished his morning routine. He'd just opened the dresser drawer to grab a tee shirt when he heard, "Jaime, no sweetie, the spoon doesn't go on your head." Hurrying, he grabbed the shirt and pulled it on as he made his way down the hall toward their kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, he watched as she pulled the purple top down over their daughter's head and reached across the table to pull the spoon off their son's head. She'd no sooner taken her hands off Mallory than the little girl was tugging her top toward her head again.
Laughing, he gently pushed her hands down and straightened the shirt again. Mallory giggled and reached down, but he was quick to correct her. Firmly, but gently, he told her no. "Mommy picked out a beautiful shirt for you, ladybug."
"Apparently, our daughter does not agree with her mother's fashion sense today either."
He leaned in and kissed her head, "Well, I totally agree with mommy's fashion sense. After all, I let you dress me all the time and the boys never pick on me." He grinned.
She cuddled into his side and let him take a little of her weight. "Did you get enough sleep?"
"Define enough?" he joked, though she frowned at him. "Honey, I'm fine. Really."
"You have court today. You need to be rested." She argued softly. "This was your second double this week."
"I'll take a nap if I need to, but, Sara...really, I'm fine." He winked at her, waiting for her frown to soften at the edges so he knew that while she still may not like it, she was okay with the answer she'd received.
"Well," Sara smirked, hugging him close and fiddling with the neck of his cotten tee, "you can always nap with the kids if you need to."
"You," he smiled, kissing her lips, "are brilliant, Mrs. Grissom."
"Mmm." she hummed against his warm lips.
A clattering snapped them apart and they both laughed at Jaime's slobbery grin, his spoon laying in a small puddle of milk halfway across the table.
"How old does he have to be before he can start baseball?" Grissom asked.
Sara laughed. "I think they prefer them out of diapers and walking a bit more steadily, babe."
"Can I help it if the fruit of my loins is a natural pitcher." He boasted with obvious pride.
Sara snorted. "Before you start beating your chest, would you get your fruit's face wiped off and change him out of his pj's?"
"Yes, ma'am." He laid a sound kiss on his wife, grinning madly as he watched her dazed blinking after, trying to compose herself. "Come on, my boy." Grissom unbuckled Jaime and hoisted him out of his high chair. "Let's get you squared away for the day."
He walked back down the hall toward their son's nursery as the little boy played one of his favorite games of comb daddy's beard with your fingers. Grissom only wished those fingers weren't still partially covered with cereal.
~~LTD~~
"Well, when will you know better what's going on?!"
"Miss Willows, I understand your worry and your frustration...all of you," Dr. Braiden looked at each face staring back at him, "but right now, I've shared with you all I know. We need to get him into surgery to stop the bleeding and relieve the pressure. His arm and collarbone will be set while we're in there, barring any complications and-"
"What kinds of complications?!"
Warrick stepped closer and pulled Catherine against his side, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "Let the doc get in there and help him. We can worry about that stuff if we come to it, okay?"
Scared, worried eyes looked back at him, but she silently nodded.
Taking that as his escape, Dr. Braiden smiled grimly. "I'll send word out as soon as I have anything to report." Feeling for the worried group, he squeezed Catherine's hand, "Honestly, considering what happened, he's very lucky. It could be so much worse. Try to hang in there and I'll do everything I can to get him through this as best as possible."
He got a few nods and then he was gone, disappearing through the double doors several feet from the surgical waiting room.
Jim Brass blinked for what felt like the first time in the last...he didn't even know how long ago it had been because he had no idea what time it was at the moment. Time had seemed to slow to an unnatural speed the moment he'd looked up and seen his friend at that railing.
An almost inaudible whimper drew his attention to the pale young woman at his side. Instinctively, Jim reached out. "Hey, kiddo, how ya doin'?"
"I..." Sara couldn't seem to make her voice work right. It felt mangled and caught in her throat. "I keep seeing him...falling and then..." She closed her eyes and turned her head at the memory, as if for a moment she thought she could hide from it. But the vision was burned into her mind. And the vision was bad enough, but the sound..."it was so loud." She whispered. Tears filled her eyes as she looked back to Jim, pleading silently for him to tell her it was all a horrible dream. "It got so quiet...and then when he-" She choked on the words as it replayed in her mind. Just as the image of Grissom landed on that glass tabletop, shattering it while they all helplessly watched in horror, she felt Jim pull her against his chest, his arms circling her protectively.
"He's gotta be okay, Jim." She sobbed quietly. "He just has to be."
Greg rushed into the room and all eyes darted to him, thinking he was the doc coming back. To say they were tense would have been an undertstatement of epic proportions.
"How is he?"
"They're taking him into surgery now." Warrick was the first to speak.
"Okay. But how is he?"
"We don't know any more than what we last told you, Greg." Catherine added. "Broken arm and collarbone. The bleeding on..." She couldn't say the rest. It was too uncertain and the words trying to form and leave her lips made her sick to her stomach.
Seeing the struggle written all over her face, Warrick finished for her. "They have to stop the bleeding and relieve the pressure on the brain stem so it doesn't do any permanent damage. Once they do that, they'll have a much better idea if there'll be other problems."
Without warning, Nick surged to his feet and pushed passed Greg, bumping into him on the way out of the door. Uncharacteristically of the polite Texan, he didn't even glance back at the younger man, let alone offer up a word of apology.
Greg searched the faces of his friends for some sort of explanation for Nick's odd behavior. He knew they were all upset and really worried about Grissom, but Nick seemed to be that and then some. Nick appeared to be angry.
"Someone should probably..." Catherine began.
"I'll go." Warrick gave Greg a pat on the back as he made his way toward the door. "Don't take it personally man. I don't think it has anything to do with any of us." Greg nodded and Warrick looked at Catherine. "Call me if you get any news before we get back."
~~LTD~~
Sara looked up from her place on the couch and gave him a smile. No matter how many times he did this, it never got old. He loved coming home to her. He let the keys fall from his fingers into the dish on the stand, his attache finding its place on the floor in its usual spot and he crossed the small distance to his beautiful wife, bending at the waist, both hands braced against the couch as he lowered his head to meet her forward movement, catching her lips with his and sinking into the long, deep kiss he'd been waiting for since he kissed her goodbye this morning.
When they parted, her eyes had that hazy, unfocused look that twisted his stomach in the best way and he knew his weren't much different. In what felt like a lifetime ago, he'd once thought loving Sara was too great a risk. For a smart man, he'd never had a more stupid thought. Loving Sara...being loved by Sara, was a wonderous gift from God and his only regret was that it had taken him so long to let what God had intended for him to happen. He couldn't imagine his life without her and the kids for a single second.
He took off his jacket, and as he lowered himself to the couch beside her, he undid the first button of his shirt and loosened his tie with one hand while the other curled under her knees to lift her legs onto his lap.
"How was court?" She asked, fingers sifting through the hair at his nape. She applied a little pressure to the muscles in his neck. When he groaned, closing his eyes, and pressed back into her hand, Sara grinned softly and pressd harder; kneading the knots until she felt them loosen.
"What's my name?" he asked, eyes still closed.
She chuckled, leaning forward and kissing his ear, she whispered, "That wasn't the question, Dr. Grissom." His response was another deep groan. With a coy smile, she was just about to accost his ear once more when she felt herself suddenly being lifted. She yelped in surprise and instinctively latched onto his shoulders as she landed fully in his lap. "Gil!"
"Shhh!" He whispered, planting kisses on her neck. "You'll summon the carpet renegades and I'm not done with their leader."
It wasn't two seconds later that there came the 'pitter patter' of pounding feet and squeals of "Daddy!" and one coveted romantic moment was tabled once more until children were nestled soundly in their beds later that night. "To be continued" had become somewhat of a staple saying in the Grissom abode, but they wouldn't trade it for all the gold under the sun.
~~LTD~~
Warrick had looked in the cafeteria, thinking maybe his friend had gone for coffee. No Nick. He'd checked outside next, thinking Nick might need some fresh air. Still, no Nick. He'd rounded toward the elevators outside the Emergency Room, figuring he'd head back up and see if he'd missed Nick outside surgical somehow or maybe he'd returned to the waiting room, when his eyes caught the directory. The white letters announcing 'Chapel' and the corresponding arrow gave him one more option before he rode back up to the fourth floor.
A few minutes later, Warrick pushed open the door to the hospital chapel and quickly scanned the pews. It didn't take long to find his friend. Nick was sitting at the end of the pew, three rows from the back, and looking like he'd just kicked a pile of puppies.
The bench creaked a little under Warrick's weight as he quietly took a seat by Nick. He sighed a little and he would swear it sounded ten times as loud in this place of worship as it would in any other room anywhere. His grandmother used to grin at him, with that twinkle in her green eyes she used to always get when she teased him, and she would tell him that God quiets the room of your mind and sends the angels to block out the sound around you so nothing distracts you from your talk with The Lord. Warrick had always really liked that explanation, even if he did first get it when he was eight years old.
He waited a beat, hoping Nick would start, but when he stayed quiet, Warrick took the first step, trying first to lighten the mood. "Hey, man, you know you gotta be careful with Greggo. You break'em, you bought'em."
To his dismay, Nick hung his head lower.
"Come on, Nick. I was joking, man. What's goin' on with you? I know you're worried about, Gris, we all are but you-"
"It's my fault, Ric." Nick blurted, eyes welling with tears of remorse and frustration. "Man," he choked out, "this is all my fault! What if there's brain damage?! What if they can't stop the bleeding?! What if he ends up paralyzed or worse, what if he-"
Warrick cut him off sharp. He knew exactly what Nick was about to 'what if' next and that was not something they were going to entertain for a second! "No! Stop with the 'what ifs', Nick." He softened his tone, realizing how harsh it sounded, especially in the quietness of this place. "Man, you can't think like that. He's gonna be okay. We gotta have faith, man." Warrick clapped a hand around the back of Nick's neck and gave a firm, reassuring squeeze. He waited while Nick took a few calming, if shakey breaths before he finally nodded his head. "Now what's this noise about this being your fault? You didn't shove him over that railing."
"I should've been up there with him, Ric." Tears appeared in his eyes again. "I hit the snooze button, man...three times. If I hadn't done that...if I had gotten up when I set my alarm, I would have been early to shift. I would have had time to stock extra in my kit and I wouldn't have had to go out to the truck for bindles. I left him alone up there! For what?! An extra fifteen minutes of sleep?! Grissom's in surgery right now to stop bleeding on his brain stem, because I wasn't where I should have been! That guy wouldn't have stood a chance against the both of us!, Heck, man, he proabably wouldn't have even tried if he'd seen two of us! I should have been upstairs with Grissom!"
"You clear that floor?"
"What?" Nick gave Warrick a puzzled look. "That's not our job, man. You know that."
"Oh. So, it wasn't you that missed the perp hiding on the premises. You didn't leave Grissom alone on purpose with a violent perp?"
"Not on purpose, no!" Nick defended.
"So, Grissom just wasn't paying attention." Warrick baited.
"There was no reason for Grissom to think there was anything other than the evidence to pay attention to, Warrick!"
"Then why you blamin' yourself for doing anything but what Grissom was doin' too?! Come on, Nick! You had no reason to think that there was any danger to any of us on scene. How many times have we all had to go to the truck for more supplies? Man, Grissom's done the same thing himself and he'd be the first one to say that too. Grandy and Holsted dropped the ball. They were first on the scene and they were the ones that gave the all clear, but ultimately, the perp is the only one responsible for Grissom being in surgery right now. You gotta stop blaming yourself, Nick. We need to stick together and stay strong, man...for each other and most of all for Grissom."
Warrick watched as Nick let his words sink in. He could see it as the tension slowly ebbed from his friends shoulders, but most of all he could see it in Nick's eyes. Finally, Nick nodded and made to stand up. Warrick caught him by the arm. "While we're here..."
Nick nodded and sat back down. Both men bowed their heads and prayed for their friend, mentor, and surrogate father.
To Be Continued...