Chapter 2

"Grissom," a voice echoed and reverberated.

Consciousness began to fade when he heard Catherine's voice. "Gil? Can you hear me, Gil? Nick, where the hell is the ambulance!?"

"Repeat medic location?" Nick asked.

"Catherine?" Grissom managed to get out.

He opened his eyes but he didn't see Catherine. Standing over him was a blond haired, pig-tailed girl wearing a pink dress and holding a terry cloth cat.

"Who are you?" Grissom whispered.

"Lay still, Grissom. You're badly hurt," Catherine told him.

The little girl walked away when Catherine leaned into Grissom's line of sight. He felt her take his hand.

"Hang in there, okay? Paramedics are coming. Hang on."

"Grissom," he heard Nick say. "Hey, hold onto my hand. Don't let go. No. Grissom, hold on. Don't let go."

Catherine's face swirled as dizziness swept Grissom away from her.

#

Catherine followed the paramedics down the stairs, watching Grissom. She stopped at the back of the ambulance, waiting for them to load the gurney. Catherine jerked when someone laid their hand on her arm, looking right into Nick's worried eyes.

"You have to stay here, Nick. Process the scene. Call Ecklie, tell him what's happened, then call Greg, and pull him from his case. This takes priority."

Nick nodded. Catherine looked away when a tear slid down her face. Nick stepped close, putting his arm around her.

"Call me as soon as you know anything." Nick quietly added, "And call Sara. She'll want to be here."

She nodded.

One paramedic climbed in with the gurney, the second glanced at her.

"We have to go now, ma'am."

Catherine hurried forward, sitting down with the paramedic. Nick watched her lean forward, taking Grissom's hand. He saw evidence as her hand closed around his – there was a powder on Grissom's fingers – but he didn't tell her to stop. All the trace on Grissom didn't matter right now.

The back doors were closed and then the ambulance was pulling away, leaving Nick standing by himself on the front lawn of the crime scene.

#

Consciousness was much harder to regain this time, and not wholly. Grissom felt off. He felt like he was floating along, chasing after his body. He heard the muffled sound of sirens and felt himself moving. His lower body was numb and his headache had grown worse.

"Can you hear me, Gil?" someone he didn't recognize asked.

He didn't answer. He was instinctually afraid of this unknown speaker. Was this the person that hurt him? Was he hurt? Had it been a person? He couldn't remember anything beyond walking Hank. Grissom opened his eyes.

He remembered the little girl leaning over him from before. She watched him without speaking.

"Who are you?" Grissom asked her.

"Gil," Catherine said.

Pigtails bouncing, the girl moved back as Catherine came into view until she was out of sight.

"Who is she?" Grissom whispered.

Two warm hands took his. "Grissom, look at me. I need you to look at me," Catherine told him.

Grissom's vision slowly focused on Catherine.

"Where am I?" Grissom asked.

"In an ambulance. We're headed to the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

"No."

"You were attacked. You're injured. Stay awake. Stay with us, okay?"

"Sir, can you feel your left leg?" the stranger he'd heard before asked.

"What?"

"Do either of your legs feel strange?"

"Numb."

The world began spinning.

"One leg? Both?"

"All of it."

"Which one, sir? Can you tell me which leg?"

"Sir, look up here. Look at me. Follow the light, okay?"

A light appeared and Grissom tried to follow it, but the dizziness swept it away into darkness again.

#

Nick was trying to focus on his job, on collecting evidence. He was trying to forget reviving Grissom twice before the ambulance arrived and helping the paramedics in the foyer try to bring Grissom back a third time. He came back easily every time, a sign in Nick's mind he was fighting to stay alive. But it didn't wipe out the image of how Grissom looked when he came up behind Catherine.

Nick pulled a fingerprint card from his kit and looked up. Slowly he looked at every 'Emily' that was painted in blood on the walls. What did Emily have to do with any of this? Realizing he had let his mind be sidetracked – something it was easily doing tonight – he looked down at the fingerprint card in his hand. Nick pulled the tape back from the fingerprint card before he lowered it over the fingerprint on the bedpost. His hands were shaking and he hesitated. He drew a breath but it didn't steady his hands. He decided he had to get the print anyway and moved in for it. At the last second his hands jerked, pulling the tape across the print and smearing it. Immediately he knew he'd lost the print.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Nick bellowed, kicking his kit across the bedroom.

The anger left as fast as it came, leaving him feeling exhausted. He dropped the card as he scrubbed his forehead with his fingers.

Behind him he heard Ecklie say, "Nick, I've brought three swing and two day, and Greg."

Nick put his hands on his hips, but didn't turn. So Ecklie had come to take over? He didn't know if he could handle much more stress tonight and remain civil.

"And?" Nick asked.

"Where do you want us?"

Nick slowly turned, finding them standing in the doorway. Ecklie wasn't taking over the crime scene? He was going to let Nick keep it? And was that… Nick stared at the field kit Ecklie was holding. He looked from it to Ecklie's face.

"Where, Nick?"

"Sorry we're late," Wendy said as she and Hodges appeared at the back. "The media's a circus at the end of the court. Hey Nick. We'll courier evidence so we can get it through faster. Do you have anything for us?"

"No. I haven't even…" Nick turned, staring into the bedroom. He couldn't focus on this. Suddenly he wished Ecklie would take control.

And his wish was granted.

"Alison and Jose, head to the basement. Richard and Kipp, take the first floor. Darla and I will cover the perimeter. Is that okay, Nick? That will leave you and Greg up here."

"That's fine."

"Okay, lets get started. We'll have stuff for you two soon."

"We'll wait outside," Wendy told them.

Nick listened to them leave. All except Greg. He walked forward and picked up the card, handing it back to Nick.

"Emily is all over this house. Any ideas what it means or who it is?"

"No."

Greg nodded. "Me neither. If you want, I can lift if you want to dust."

"Okay."

Silently the two worked together to process the scene.

#

Catherine didn't see the bright flowers outside the window. Against the darkness behind them, they almost glowed in the light coming through the window. She noticed a reflection in the window and turned. Doctor Ian Cooper stood behind her, staring at the surgical cap in his hand. He looked up at her, and then motioned to the two rows of seats nearby. Catherine moved to them and sat down with him.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Catherine asked.

Solemnly he nodded as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his legs. She sat back, bracing herself.

"Tell me."

"I was able to stop the internal bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood. That's the least of my worries, Catherine. The head trauma has caused an epidural hematoma and is causing swelling. I'm doing what I can to relieve the pressure, but Gil has slipped into a coma and to be frank… Mortality is highly probable."

"What about the rest of his injuries?"

"All of his ribs are either broken or fractured. His right jawbone has been fractured in two places and there are multiple fractures across the femur and foot bones. Several fractured discs. There are several fractures across his clavicle, hips, and right pelvis. Judging from the amount of fractures on his forearms, I'd say he tried to defend himself."

Ian's pager went off and he glanced at it. He looked back at Catherine.

"We'll move him to ICU 4 in a half hour. You can wait for him there. Two nurses up there know him, he'll be in good care, and I will check up on him as soon as I'm out of my next surgery."

"Thank you Ian."

He reached out, taking her hand. "I owe you two this much. You found out who murdered Sophia."

She watched him walk away before looking at the floor. She looked at her phone when it started ringing then answered.

"Sara, something has happened to Grissom. You need to come now. He may not have much time."

There was silence for several minutes. "I'm on the next plane there. Bye."

The phone went dead then disconnected. Catherine let her hand fall to her lap. It would be a while before Grissom was in his room, and she in such shock she didn't really want to move.

#

In the distance, the sun was rising, lighting the sky with beautiful pastels, but the sight was lost to Ecklie. He wanted to curse at the ground he was searching, the bushes that kept snagging his pants, the stones that had scuffed his good shoes, and mostly the asshole that had put Grissom in the hospital. But he held his tongue because any of that would be weakness, and he'd suffered enough at his father's hands for showing weakness to let anyone see it.

"I found a crowbar," the CSI called.

Ecklie turned. CSI Darla held it up for him to see. He hated working with first years.

"And what do we do with evidence when we find it? Do we hold it up in the air and let the world know we found it?"

Darla lowered her hand. "No, sir. We bag and tag it."

Ecklie turned around and kept searching. The light of his flashlight sparkled across something in a spiny bush. He crouched down and reached under the brush, grimacing as the thorns snagged his bare skin and tore it. He felt a gun. No. He felt two. He grabbed them and pulled them out.

"Bring me bags," Ecklie called to Darla.

"Coming."

Ecklie didn't turn. He looked up at the rising sun.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch?" Ecklie asked the dawn. He was actually glad he wasn't lead on this case. He might be tempted to provide the attacker with a convenient 'accident' when he or she was caught.

#

Nick walked into the main layout room, watching Wendy laying out computer diagrams of the house.

"Archie sure worked fast on these," Nick commented.

"You're not the only one that wants Grissom's attacker found now." Wendy glanced at him. "We all do."

Nick nodded.

"Okay…" She spread the papers out, and then looked at the diagrams. She used sticky flags marked: mom, dad, teen daughter, preteen daughter, son, police, unknown1, unknown 2, dog, cat, and Grissom. She tagged the spots on the map.

"Okay…" Wendy said again.

"You said that already, Wendy. Get to it."

She glanced back at him. He was staring at the maps and either didn't know he snapped or wasn't sorry he had.

She looked at the maps. "We have blood from the officer in the front hall and drops to the kitchen. The smear across the floor into the pantry was his, so he must have been killed there. In the hall there are drops from the dog to the basement. From the living room, the cat to the basement. On the steps we have two donors. We have the unknown and Grissom. Upstairs—"

"Wait a second. There's drops from Grissom on the stairs?"

"Yes."

"Anywhere else downstairs?"

"In the basement and halfway up the steps."

"Go on."

"Upstairs, the daughter's blood in their respective bedrooms and then drops to the hall closet. Likely they were carried. The same for the son. Dad's blood is in the bed and was smeared across the carpet to the hall closet. Mom's blood next to the bed and then was smeared to the hall closet. In the bathroom, the largest donor was Grissom. That's probably where he… Uhm…"

"Move on. You have unknown 1 and 2 here and in the kitchen."

"Unknown 1 is the John Doe found in the pantry with the officer. There was a lot of his blood in the bathroom, down the hall, stairs, and right at the back door. The drag mark from the back door to the pantry was his."

Nick picked up a stack of photographs, separated by room, and looked at them. He began laying them out on the table, watching the directionality of the drops and smears. When he was done, he stared. Realizing what the blood spatter and photographs were telling him was a hard reality to swallow.

"There was no blood of the second unknown in any of the bedrooms or basement or kitchen. Only the bathroom, upstairs hall, stairs and out the back door. That means… Grissom was the last person killed and he tried to stop the killer. What the hell was he thinking?"

Wendy looked at the table. "That he didn't want the killer to escape and was doing his job."

#

Archie and Greg scanned fingerprints into the computer and ran them. The two hadn't spoken since Greg came in and asked Archie to help. Archie dropped what he was doing and began scanning fingerprints. The computer beeped once, followed by a second one.

"Two hits," Archie told Greg.

He moved over to the computer next to Archie. Two photographs appeared: the dead John Doe and a teenager.

"John Doe is only seventeen," Archie said. "The guy looks twenty-five. And this other donor is fifteen. You think the John Doe talked this kid into helping him kill the family?"

"To soon to tell.

"It says they escaped from Clark County Juvenile Detention Center the day before yesterday." Archie brought up the teenager's record and began scrolling through the list of charges. "Look at this kid's record, Greg." Archie scrolled through the years and years of charges against the teenager. "Donald Fritz, fifteen, and his rap sheet looks like some hardcore on death row! The last charge is aggravated assault. He put a kid in the hospital for putting down his favorite music artists."

"Let me guess. Marilyn Manson."

"No. Danzig."

"This kid had some serious issues if he was into Danzig. It says he beat the kid up with a board. I wonder if he's moved up on the weapons scale." Greg picked up a phone receiver nearby and dialed an extension.

"Robbins," Doc Robbins said after the second ring.

"Do you have the X-Rays from the hospital yet?"

"On which vic?"

"Grissom."

"No. Catherine hasn't returned my calls either."

"Okay. I'll go see what's going on."

"Is there something up?"

Greg looked up at Ecklie. He was reading the file on the screen.

"I'll call you when I find Catherine, Doc." Greg hung up. "Our only suspect is fifteen."

"Do we need a warrant for him?"

"We have to find him first. He escaped juvvy and that would have been removed if they'd gotten him back."

"His last name is Fritz. Isn't that the last name of the family that lived at the house?"

Greg turned and pulled up a file on the family. Ecklie was right. He turned back to Ecklie.

"You think he was related?"

"It's worth checking into. Archie, that's your job now. Greg, Catherine needs you to pick up the X-Rays and Doctor Ian said he has a copy of the medical file waiting at the front desk for you."

Greg hurried out. Archie turned, watching Ecklie read the screen.

"Are you…"

Ecklie looked down at him. "Am I what?"

"Are you working the case?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. I think it's cool."

Without comment, Ecklie went back to reading the screen.

#

Catherine sat on the edge of the windowsill, staring out at Las Vegas. Dawn had risen like it always did, uncaring that Grissom hung on a thin thread between life and death. The sound of the respirator mechanically breathing for him was hypnotic and had lulled her into sleep for an hour. The soft steps of a nurse coming in to check on him woke her. She couldn't bring herself to leave even to eat.

"Mom?"

Catherine turned, surprised to find Lindsay standing by her, and Sara behind her.

"I hope it's okay," Sara said. "I stopped at your place to find you and she asked to come."

Catherine smiled, hugging Lindsay. The teenager pulled away though, walking up to Grissom. She laid her hand on his, and then looked back at Catherine.

"Did you catch the guy that did this?"

"Not yet."

Lindsay looked down at Grissom. "Is he going to be okay?"

Catherine didn't answer until Lindsay looked back at her.

"It's too soon to tell, Linds. Have you had lunch?"

"No. Have you slept?"

"Why don't we get something in the cafeteria?"

"I want to stay here with Grissom."

Catherine wanted to argue, but she didn't know how. Sara stepped in for her.

"You know…" Sara walked up to Lindsay. "I could call you if he wakes up or anything changes. You'll be downstairs so you can hurry back. I think your mom is hungry. She's been here all night."

Lindsay looked at her mom. She let go of Grissom's hand and took Catherine's. Catherine smiled, leading the teenager out of the room.

Sara waited until she was sure they were gone before she carefully slid onto the bed to lie next to Grissom. She leaned close, kissing the only place on his face without a bruise or bandage – his eyelid.

"Don't give up, Gil. Please…" Sara whispered. "Don't leave me. I need you."