Nick Stokes felt the burn in his stomach when he stepped foot inside his work building and it made him fell uneasy. Something was wrong. Instinctively he looked down at his cell but there was nothing on the screen to show anything wasn't as it should be. So Nick shook his head to empty the heavy feeling and went to the locker room to shuck his personal things. He nodded at Warwick, threw his wallet down in his locker for save keeping, then went the familiar route to the room where his supervisor, Gil Grissom, would pass out their specific assignments to the crimes that warranted an investigation from the night team.
He walked into the room to see his team standing grimly around the table and the worry solidified once more. "Guys?"
Three pairs of eyes looked towards him but the centerpiece on the table drew his attention. Another model, a mini like the others housed in Grissom's office, the evidence of the unsolved crime.
Two things struck Nick about the model as he took a step closer. One was a sick familiarity of the exposed clothes on the plastic figure. The other was the striking difference between this model and the others- this one was moving. A tiny hand moving from under the red car as if trying to get purchase on the sand to move the rest of the body out.
Nick looked in horror at Gris, Cath, and Warwick, then said the first thing that dawned on him. "Where's Sara?"
Catherine and Warwick turned pale while Grissom looked like he was about to be sick, judging from the shade of green.
The moving hand grabbed Nick's attention once more and his fear and Texas temper made him lash out, grabbing the model and forcibly throwing it against the wall in hopes to stop the movement.
Immediately hands reached out to grab a hold of his upper body.
"Nicky," he heard Cath say, "we'll find her. Just stay calm. Just breathe."
Good advice.
Just breathe.
