Hello, Hello
Hello, Hello! This is the second chapter to the "Senses Working Overtime" series, and I hope you like it. I enjoy hearing the feedback, good and bad! So, if you have time, feel free to stop by and drop me a line!
WARNING: This fanfiction does contain spoilers!
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own anything but the idea behind this story mmkay?!
Nick's breathing intensified as Warrick lay motionless on his injured arm. He bit his lip and endured the pain as the EMTs gathered their materials and rushed out of the back of the ambulance.
Nick felt as if he was in a nightmare as he watched Warrick being lifted onto a stretcher and hauled into the back. But this pain was much too real for it to be a nightmare. It all happened so quickly. They lifted Warrick off of Nick, and placed him on a backboard. They hooked up numerous tubes and wires as they took his vitals.
But it was when one of the EMTs attempted to take Warrick's pulse, that they knew something was wrong. There was no heartbeat. No thump, no twitch, absolutely no sign that he was still alive. The EMT looked at Nick with sympathetic eyes as he helped them load Warrick into the ambulance. They strapped him in and locked the stretcher down. Just as one of the EMTs was leaving the scene, she noticed the long gash in Nick's arm. They made eye contact as he realized that she had seen his injury.
"I'll be fine," Nick said with urgency. "Just take care of Warrick."
"I don't think so," she said while shaking her head. "We need to send for another bus. There's no way we can leave you here unattended with that kind of injury."
"Amy, we need to go. Are you coming with or staying behind?" one of the EMTs asked.
"I said I'll be fine," Nick said while covering his arm. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."
"That's what I'm afraid of," she said to him. "You guys go ahead I'll wait ahead for the next one."
The ambulance sped off down the street, lights and sirens blaring. Nick must have been out of it because he didn't even notice the police cars that had already blocked off both alleyways. As he looked closer, he could see one Government Issue blue Taurus pull in behind them. His vision became blurry as he attempted to focus on who was walking towards him.
Amy took her kit in one hand and attempted to grab Nick's arm with the other.
"Are you feeling light-headed? Dizzy? Nausea?" she asked while taking her gauge out of her box.
"You're not doing me any favors. What kind of EMT are you? You leave an ambulance that has a man in it, a man that's fighting for his life might I add, just so you could wrap my arm in gauge? What the hell is wrong with you?" Nick shouted as he stumbled backwards.
"Sir, you need to calm down. Everything's going to be fine, I just need you to sit still while I attempt to clean your cut," Amy said as she reached out with her gloved hand.
"Don't you dare touch him. He's evidence. Have you touched anything else that could possibly corrupt the scene?" said the man that was walking out towards Nick.
Nick turned his attention to the direction of where the voice was. Nick tried to correct his vision, and he could see the outline of a rotund man walking a few feet from him.
"Nick, tell me what's going on! What happened? Are you OK? Did you see anything? Anyone that could have done this?"
All of the questions swirled around in Nick's head, confusing him, making his mind numb and his head twirl. His eyesight began to blur and he began to stumble.
"My head," Nick managed to say while he tried to comprehend all of the questions.
"Sir, you need to let me treat him. He's lost a lot of blood and needs to take a seat."
"What's wrong with you, Stokes?" the man asked, then noticed the gash in his arm.
Nick's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he became light headed. He felt his body go limp as he crashed to the ground. He lay motionless except for his chest moving up and down slowly, as blood trickled out of his arm, and onto the tar of the dirty street. Just as all of his senses began to fade, Nick could see another ambulance pulling into the alley. He knew that he could stop fighting now. They had come to take care of him, and even more importantly, take him to Warrick. Nick closed his eyes, and gently went to sleep. He knew that when he awoke, things would be alright. At least, that's what he let himself believe.
The EMTs rushed from the ambulance and tended to the fallen CSI. Amy picked up her kit, and ran to the back. She jumped in as they loaded Nick into the ambulance.
"You take good care of him. He's one of our finest," said the rotund man.
"Sure thing, Sir," Amy said as she closed up the ambulance.
The Undersheriff stood there, chewing on a toothpick with a crooked smile on his face. He looked at the yellow police tape and knew it was going to be a long night.
--
Nick opened his eyes, and immediately shut them. The harsh light that was peeking through his eyelids burnt his corneas and gave him an instant headache. The area around his nose and mouth felt damp. The hot air that was leaving his nose warmed his upper lip. He was breathing but felt constricted as his chest moved up and down. His immediate thought was to touch his injured arm. It had fallen asleep and the tingly sensation began to bother him. When he went to lift his arm, he felt a cloth like rubber band holding his arm at his side. He went to lift his head, but that too was held down. He began to breath heavier, his thoughts running wild. The harsh light was back again, this time on his left side. The light slowly moved from left to right, up and down, clicking on and off.
"He's responsive to light stimuli. We need to get him a transfusion and soon. He's lost entirely too much blood," Paul, an older EMT, said as he fumbled with the many supplies that lined the sides of the ambulance.
His eyes, still recovering from its recent assault, opened up and blinked rapidly.
"War…" Nick kept saying over and over again.
"He's awake," Amy said with urgency in her voice.
"War…" Nick said groggily.
"It's OK. Just relax," Amy said as she patted his arm.
"What the hell is he saying?" another EMT asked as he prepared a sedative for Nick.
"I don't know. Something about Dionne Warwick or the Iraq War. I don't know. He's lost so much blood he could be talking about anything at this point," Paul said with a smile.
"It's Warrick," Amy said firmly. "He's saying 'Warrick'. The name of his friend in the other ambulance."
The back of the ambulance fell quiet as they realized that Amy was not amused.
"We're here to save lives and if that's not possible, then it's our jobs to make the patient feel 100 secure with us," she said with annoyance. "We're not here to crack jokes and have a good time. His friend is fighting for his life and you guys think it's funny to screw around?" She lay back against one of the walls of the ambulance and began to fume for a second.
"Actually, no," the ambulance driver said as he hung up his radio.
"Excuse me?" She said as she sat forward.
"Actually, his friend isn't fighting for his life. He just expired. They called it at the hospital. 3:47," he stated while looking in the rear view mirror.
"Damn," Amy said as she covered her face with her hand.
"You need to learn to detach yourself from the situation or this is going to be a hard and short experience for you. People die. It's part of life. You deal with it on your own time. Not here. We need you to have a clear head and we need you to focus. If you can't do that, than we can find you a nice desk position for you to work, ya got that?" Paul said with a firm tone.
Amy sat there biting her lip as she refrained from fighting back.
"He's not dead," Nick said as he slurred his words.
"Now would be a good time to sedate him," Paul said to the other EMT.
"Why? He's not belligerent. He's not causing any problems. Is it necessary to do that?" Amy asked as she made wide hand gestures.
"When you fail at being an EMT, and you will fail, you should really go into the mime business." Paul said as he took the syringe from the hesitant EMT. "Listen, do you want to be the one to tell him that the friend he was holding onto just 5 minutes ago just passed? No? Then yes, it's necessary." Paul flicked the needle and stuck it in Nick's arm. He applied pressure to the needle with his thumb and injected the serum into Nick's bloodstream. Nick instantly fell back into his deep sleep, where he remained until the ambulance arrived at the hospital.
--
3:39 am
"What the hell is going on here McKeen?" Grissom asked as he ducked under the tape of the crime scene.
"No, no, no," McKeen said as he backed Grissom back out under the tape, and out of the crime scene.
"What do you mean no? I want this case," Grissom said as he headed back under the tape.
"If you touch anything, I will have you arrested for obstruction of justice," McKeen said with a firm tone.
"You've gotta be shitting me right now," Catherine said as she walked into the conversation. "You're not gonna let us work this scene?"
"Absolutely not," McKeen said shaking his head. "Two of your guys are involved and I'm not about to let you come in here with your emotions on your sleeve. One mistake, that's all it takes. You know that,"
"Wait," Catherine said, "Two of our guys? I thought it was just Warrick."
"Nick cut his arm on a piece of glass as he was pulling Warrick out of the car. That alone probably tampered so much evidence that we're lucky to even have a case right now," McKeen said as he took his toothpick out of his mouth.
"What was Nicky thinking?" Grissom asked as he sat his case down.
"Well, he was thinking the same way you two are now, with your hearts, not your heads," he stated slowly. "That's why I can't have you guys here right now. Go to the hospital. St. John's. Be with your guys. They need you now."
Catherine, hating to admit when the undersheriff was right, looked at Grissom with glossy, blood shot eyes.
"You're right," Grissom said as he looked into Catherine's face. "You're right. We'll go. But keep us posted. I want to know everything," Grissom and Catherine headed back to their Denali, and sped off in the direction of the hospital.
Catherine and Grissom drove into the night with nothing but silence. Catherine looked out of the passenger window and bit her nails, a clear sign that she was nervous. Grissom gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and they became sore.
"One of us needs to let Greg know," Grissom said as they approached an intersection.
After a long pause and a few deep breaths, Catherine dug around in her pocket until she found her cell phone. She flipped it open and positioned her fingers on the keypad. Her fingers twitched and shook as she thought about how she was going to tell Greg about what had happened. Her hands visibly began to shake profusely. Grissom, seeing this, grabbed the phone and her hands with his, stopping the shaking and taking the phone from her.
"Here, I'll do it," Grissom said sympathetically as Catherine began to cry.
Grissom held the phone to his ear and waited for Greg to pick it up. After three rings they reached Greg's voicemail.
"Hi, you've reached Greg Sanders. I'm unable to come to the phone right now, but please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."
After a long pause, Grissom found the courage to speak.
"Greg, it's Grissom. Look, I need you to call me as soon as you get this. Something's happened and," Grissom said before pausing, "and I just need you to call me back."
Grissom snapped the phone shut and passed it back to Catherine.
"Thank you," Catherine said as she wiped a tear.
"For what?" Grissom asked as he turned into the hospital.
"For being strong," Catherine said as she unbuckled her seat belt.
Grissom looked at himself in the rearview mirror and let everything that was going on, sink in. He put his hands over his face and inhaled. He had to be strong. They needed him to be strong. His team needed him and he would be there for them. He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He slowly placed one foot in front of the other as he started on the longest walk of his life. He glanced at his watch.
--
3:46am
As they walked into the building, they noticed the crew pulling Nick on a stretcher through the emergency doors. They stopped walking and stared out into the distance. The ambulance carrying Warrick had yet to open their doors. Catherine grabbed Grissom's hand and held it tight. She closed her eyes as hard as she could and whispered a short prayer. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her gut. Little did she know, that Grissom had the same feeling, but couldn't dare utter the possibility of something being wrong. He gripped Catherine's hand right back and took a deep breath.
The doors to Warrick's ambulance finally burst open and a crew of four or five doctors spilled out the hospital. Hands flew everywhere as the doctors swarmed him. When they finally pulled the stretcher all the way out of the ambulance, one of the EMTs sat on Warrick's legs as they administered CPR. The EMT pounded on Warrick's chest, attempting to get his heart pumping. All of the crew worked feverishly as they wheeled Warrick in.
Catherine and Grissom's eyes met and they knew that what they had felt in their guts was true.
With one final thought, he closed his eyes and said to himself, "Be strong. Be strong."