The Body by SLynn
Disclaimer: The idea is mine; I stole the title from Stephen King and the characters from CSI. Go ahead, sue me.
Notes: Yes the end is near. You can only torture characters for so long. :) Expect at least one more chapter after this.
The Last Day
Greg had a fitful night's sleep. Unable to get comfortable he spent most of it awake silently wishing away the pain. His chest felt like it was in a vice. The pressure was so tight, so intense, he'd of sworn he'd busted his ribs. Greg knew he hadn't, knew that he was at the point where medical attention was critical. Knew too that he was past the point of walking himself out of there to get that needed attention. In his mind it was no longer possible. He'd have to try again to convince Grissom to go on without him. If Grissom could make it to the road that day, there was still a chance.
Grissom, upon waking, knew something was wrong. Greg was already awake. He could tell it by the sound of his breathing. He was pulling in big, full breaths and wheezing them out again in a low, rapid cycle.
He came over and kneeled down next to him. Greg's eyes, barely open, looked right at him and he gave a small shake of his head.
"Can you sit up?"
"Not….without…help," Greg gasped out. Each word was spoken harshly because of the effort required.
Grissom took hold of his hands, startled to find that his fingers had taken on a blue hue, same as his lips. Gently, as gently as he could, he pulled him into a sitting position and helped him to settle against a nearby rock. It had been obviously painful. A hiss had passed from Greg's lips from the movement. He was helping as much as he could but was essentially dead weight.
Sitting, breathing was easier but Grissom was worried. Extremely worried. He noticed that Greg had stopped sweating. Knowing it wasn't because of any break in fever, Grissom could only assume he was going into shock. Greg's body was shutting down on itself.
"Do you think you can walk?"
Greg wanted to laugh. He could barely sit, couldn't even do that without help, and Grissom wanted to know if he could walk. His look must have said enough because Grissom was soon restating himself.
"With help Greg, do you think you cold walk with help?"
Greg started to shake his head 'no' before Grissom had even finished the question. His legs and arms were all pins and needles. His head felt like it was full of cotton. His chest was so constricted he didn't even know how he was managing to put anything in his lungs. Unless this 'help' Grissom spoke of had an engine, he wasn't going anywhere.
"Well, you're going to have to try."
Disbelief didn't even describe it. Greg tried to talk but couldn't do it. Couldn't even express his astonishment at the idea.
"Whenever you're ready," Grissom said evenly ignoring the look on Greg's face.
"Can't," Greg managed to croak.
"We can't stay here either," Grissom responded knowing exactly what he meant.
He knew he wasn't being fair, wasn't even being reasonable, but Greg had to get up. It was going to hurt like hell, but staying here was a death sentence. Moving was the only option and Grissom wasn't going without him.
"Go."
Grissom shook his head. He knew Greg would try it again. Would try and get him to leave, but it wasn't going to work.
"It'll be easier once you're moving, I promise."
Greg continued to stare at him. He could hardly believe it. Grissom was serious. Was completely serious about him getting on his feet and actually moving. To get his point across, Greg shook his head. He was in too much pain to go anywhere.
"Greg, we're not having this argument again. We're going together."
"Can't…argue," he stammered out in-between ragged breaths, "can't…speak."
Grissom nodded with a weak smile. This was going to be a hard sale.
"Just let me know when you're ready to try."
It was Greg's turn to nod and smile weakly, willing to try it once if just to prove to Grissom it couldn't be done.
"Okay."
Grissom got to his feet and took Greg's arms just above the elbows, gently pulling him forward. A sharp intake of air came from Greg's mouth as he got half way up and he nearly collapsed to the ground. The pain was excruciating. Grissom held firm, waited for Greg to continue the motion on his own and after a minute he did. Fully on his feet, exhausted from the effort, Greg couldn't stand without support.
Grissom handed him the walking stick, waited until he was firmly planted before moving away to grab the backpack.
"Ready?" he asked Greg who nodded weakly in return.
Getting to his feet had been bad but standing really wasn't. Still painful, still wretched, but not as bad as lying down had been. Greg still didn't think he could walk, but it was clear that Grissom wasn't going to just let him not try.
Grissom was back at his side, ready to go. Unsure how much help Greg would need, he offered up his arm, but wasn't too surprised to find it rejected. He'd always suspected Greg was an independent person, it showed in the way he dressed and talked, but he'd never known until this trip how fiercely he was so. Words like obstinate and pigheaded came to mind when he realized Greg wasn't going to take any additional help aside from occasionally putting a hand to his shoulder and leaning heavily on the walking stick.
Silently shaking his head at him, he waited for Greg to take the first step. Mustering up his strength he did. The progress was slow. Agonizingly so for both of them, but the motion, once begun, was easier to continue then Greg could have hoped for.
Knowing Greg couldn't speak, Grissom decided to do his part and provide some type of distraction. So, for the first time in as long time, Grissom talked really just to be talking. He started by telling Greg things he thought the man would find interesting. He talked some of his earlier cases, some of the different and unique ways he'd gone about collecting evidence, some of the more obscure types of evidence he'd found. Greg was grateful. Very grateful. He listened intently, knowing Grissom didn't often share with others, glad to have someone else's thoughts to fill his head.
They walked and rested in equal half hour stretches. Greg was no longer coughing. He couldn't anymore, whatever was stuck in his chest was holding tight now. Grissom's own coughs were more frequent now giving them both pause. Grissom knew now he was working his way towards the flu. If they did make it to that road tonight, make it out today, he might be okay. But another two or three days from now and he'd likely be as bad off as Greg.
Midway through the day it started to rain again. It was a drizzle, not much more then a mist, but it made the sky much darker and the walking much slower. It hadn't lasted long and dampened their spirits more then anything else.
Embankment after embankment they walked, well past the time they normally stopped. The sun had set but neither of them seemed willing to stop. They had wanted to reach actual road before stopping that day, felt the need too, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen.
The sky, having never really been bright that day, was now growing black. Reluctantly they set up camp, Grissom doing much of everything since Greg was physically unable. There was no use in even trying for a fire. While the rain hadn't been significant, it had been enough to wet anything usable for tinder.
"How are you feeling?" he asked Greg.
He'd turned on the flashlight so they could at least see one another. If possible, Greg looked worse then he had that morning. He looked drawn and pale underneath his sunburn.
Instead of answering, he made the universal symbol for okay with his hand, feeling anything but. Greg hadn't thought it possible, but they'd gone far today. Maybe further then they had yesterday which didn't explain in his mind why they hadn't reached the five-fifteen.
They settled into an easy silence. Grissom had long run out of stories and Greg now sorely missed his notebook. If he'd had that, at least he could write something down. As it was the only thing they each had was their thoughts and a sudden noise broke into those.
"Copter," Greg managed by way of a question but Grissom just stood up and shook his head.
It was too close to be a helicopter and it sounded like it was getting closer.
By the time both of them recognized the noise, it was already zooming away.
Quick as possible, Grissom got Greg to his feet. He picked up the flashlight and disregarding Greg's independence, threw an arm around his torso and hurried him forward. A hundred yards away, on the other side of the embankment they'd stopped next to was the road they'd been looking for.
Grissom laughed. Greg nearly cried. Such relief, but short lived. The car they'd heard was almost out of sight by the time they'd made it.
They decided without words to keep walking. Not knowing which way Vegas lay, they turned towards the direction the car had gone. They were both optimistic now. Both feeling better about this until three more cars passed, each without so much as slowing down.
"Damn…serial…killers," Greg muttered between breaths as the last one pulled past.
Grissom laughed. Greg hadn't finished the thought, but he knew that the rest of his sentence ended something like 'ruined hitchhiking for everyone.' Greg stopped momentarily and smiled. He'd pulled back after their initial rush forward and was once more, only partially assisted, walking on his own again. Slowly walking that was. He was still in a good deal of pain, but walking helped him focus on something other then that.
Another hour spent walking, seemingly getting no where, and Grissom noticed that Greg wasn't moving as fast as he had been. He was still determinedly going forward, but it was costing him more and more.
"We can stop here for the night," Grissom offered, coming to a halt as he spoke.
Greg shook his head 'no'. He wanted to keep going. Felt he needed too. Now that he was walking on a real surface he thought it was possible. Mostly, he didn't want to sleep another night outdoors.
"You're exhausted and we both need to rest."
Greg shook his head once more and took a shaky step forward. He hadn't realized how much or how often he had been getting his strength off of leaning into Grissom occasionally until he tried to do it alone. Grissom wouldn't let him fall though and moved once more to his side.
"Greg, we'll just sit for awhile."
"No…let's…just…go."
His chest was really rattling now. Greg's voice wasn't only airy but thick. Grissom grew concerned that he would pass out but it hadn't happened. As they'd stopped a car approached.
At first, it had gone past them, barely slowing like the rest. But this one was different from the rest. The other cars had been passing them from behind. This one had come up from the side they were walking on, coming towards them. After it had whizzed past them it slowed soon after and flipped around stopped behind where they stood. After spending a week in the desert luck had finally caught up to them. It was a police car.
He got out of the car and walked over to them, shaking his head as he did it.
"You wouldn't happen to be Gil Grissom and Greg Sanders would you?"
"How…" Greg started but Grissom took it up for him.
"How did you know that?"
"I'll explain in the car," the officer said as he ushered them over to the car.
Greg sat in the back. Again, he would have thought it was cooler having never ridden in the back of a cop car before, but right now his mind was racing. Part of him thought that he must have passed out somewhere in the desert and this was just a massive hallucination. Another part of him thought he might be dreaming the whole thing.
Greg barely listened as Officer Brown explained to them the events of the last week but Grissom did. Of course there was a missing persons report filled on them. They'd been searching day and night since they'd gone missing having picked up and lost the trail several times. Officers were patrolling the interstates, county and state roads at regular intervals at all hours and directions in the search. The helicopter they'd seen twice was in fact part of the search operation. Officer Brown had only guessed it was them after seeing their jackets from his rear view mirror. Not a lot of people wandered around at night on the interstate, even fewer of them had 'FORENSICS' written on their backs.
"There are a lot of people going to be glad to see the two of you," Officer Brown continued as they raced down the interstate.
He'd been going as fast as possible, lights on, since picking them up. One look at Greg and he hadn't needed any thing further to convince him that time was of the essence.
By the time they'd pulled up to Desert Springs Hospital, there was already a nurse and resident waiting for them with a wheelchair. This time Greg didn't object to being helped out of the car or into their care. Grissom was accompanied inside as well but without any additional aid.
He turned and watched as they rushed Greg down a hall and out of sight. He was going to be okay, Grissom knew that, but it couldn't stop him from worrying. It was really sinking in now that it was over. That against the odds they'd come out not entirely unscathed, but alive.
Without realizing Grissom had turned to Greg to relate some bit of that thought to him only to realize Greg wasn't there anymore. They'd spent a week, a solid week, at each others side but no longer.
He'd of never thought it possible but he found that he just might miss Greg's company.