Denial

Denial

A/N: Okay, I'm probably going to finish this chapter like in a few days… Anyways, enough of that. Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! They really do make me smile… And, thanks to everyone who is still reading. I feel my story spiraling down towards an ending. I was wondering if anyone is interested in a sequel?

Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, Sara would've only changed shift. And she would've married Grissom. Since that didn't happen, I clearly don't own CSI.

Chapter Twelve

The phone was placed on Brown's bedside table while he slept. On it was a note saying: Check your voicemail. And when Brown woke up, he did just that.

You have one new message. Received Friday, 11:23 am, a robotic voice informed him.

Another voice, equally robotic, but much more menacing came on.

I have Gilbert Grissom and Sara Sidle. If you ever want to see them again, you will go to the train station outside the hospital. You will walk to a bench. Sit on the bench beneath the sign that advertises the new X-Files movie. Underneath the seat will be another cell phone. Instructions will be on the cell phone. Also, do not involve the police. If you do, they will die. If you tell anyone else where you are going, they will die. Disobey my directions and they will die.

The voice stopped talking and finished with: You have until seven pm to get the phone. The message ended. Brown hung up the phone.

He leaped out of bed, grabbing the clothes that Greg had brought him earlier that day. He ran to the phone at five pm. The phone told him to take the train out of Las Vegas. And he did.

CSICSICSICSI

The Undersheriff swooped in at the start of the night shift. It was now nine o'clock. His directions for Warrick would keep the man occupied for several hours. He needed this time to keep up appearances. He spoke quickly to Brass, finally letting the fury of him messing up show. He pretended to be furious that this had happened while he was really furious that the damn dog had lived and barked, causing neighbors to call the police.

Brass believed him and apologized profusely. McKeen rather enjoyed this, thinking that he was at least being entertained. After speaking to Brass, McKeen went to talk to the team who sat shell-shocked in the break room. He smiled inwardly, knowing that they would be much more somber after they found the bodies of Brown, Sidle, and Grissom.

His plan, which had been ruined, was rather successful. After all, he had gone to "visit" Brown and found that his bed was empty. Having both Grissom and Sidle also proved advantageous. He was able to use the other as leverage when one of them decided to be a pain. He remembered it well…

He tied Sidle to a chair while Grissom stood behind her. He was furious. McKeen was almost smiling in delight. Finally, he would have success. Sure, he didn't really want to kill Grissom, but he had to. He hadn't really wanted to kill Brown either. This time, though, he would get it right.

McKeen forced Grissom into a chair on the other side of the room. He bound him to the chair tightly, making sure all his knots were secure. He walked to his carefully laid out tools and pulled out a large pair of scissors. He approached Sidle first, enjoying watching her squirm.

Instead of chopping off a finger or something equally gruesome, he cut off a lock of hair. He placed it almost gently in a plastic bag before walking over to Grissom. Instead of taking some of his hair, he took the scissors and ran them along his cheek. Blood appeared, dripping down his face.

The Undersheriff smirked as Sidle barely smothered a whimper of terror in a cough. He placed the scissors next to the hair in the bag. He placed the plastic bag in a brown paper bag and added a disposable cell phone. He then recorded his messages.

CSICSICSI

Warrick was taking yet another train. It was nine thirty and he had received several different instructions. He thought that it was so that he would lose anyone who was tailing him. Under the last seat, he found a lock of hair and a pair of scissors with blood on them. The hair was Sara's. He had no idea who the blood belonged to.

The mystery caller, which he assumed was his shooter, had just promised him better proof of life. He promised to let him talk to one of his prisoners. But the caller never said which one.

Warrick was terrified, of course. He could barely help himself from calling Catherine and assembling the troops. He knew that Grissom and Sara were going to die. He knew that he was going to die. But at least he could die knowing that he had tried to save them. That he had done everything he could to protect two of his best friends.

CSICSICSICSI

Catherine called Warrick shortly after the undersheriff left. When he didn't answer his personal phone, she called the hospital. They checked his room and reported that he was missing. Catherine stopped breathing and she could've sworn that her heart had stopped for a moment. She hung up and took a deep breath, trying to smother the panic that was rising in her chest.

"Brass!" she called out. She ran out of the break room, searching the building for Brass. "Brass!" she called him again. She continued to call his name, getting more and more desperate each time. By the time she found him, she was nearly hysterical.

"Catherine?" he asked her, confused by her current state.

Between gasps of breath, she tried to explain. "Warrick-missing. Nurses can't-can't find him… I called-no answer. The-the person who-who has Griss-Grissom and…. Sara, has-he has Warr-Warrick." Catherine felt hot tears course down her face. She would not lose him! Not after she had come so close to becoming more than just friends with him. She buried her face in her hands, overcome with fear for three people.

Grissom was her best friend. Sure, he was weird. He ate chocolate covered grasshoppers for Christ's sake! But, still, he was her best friend…

And then there was Sara. Sara was sweet and sour all at the same time. She could be sweet and talk to Catherine for hours or she could argue with her for eternity. In her own weird way, Sara had won her place as one of Catherine's "extended family members."

Warrick. Could she even start on him? He made her laugh. He also made her cry. When he had gotten married, her heart had smashed into a million tiny pieces. And he also made her feel wanted. When they lay in the hospital together, they were content to listen to each other breathe and to feel each other's pulse.

But they were all missing. Gone. And she may never see them again. And that tore her apart inside.

A/N: I know, really short chapter, but I thought that this was a good place to end it. Please review? I'd like to say that I finished this chapter the same day as chapter eleven. Just an FYI to say that I haven't completely forgotten about this story… I'm going to start working on the next chapter right now! So, remember my darling readers, reviews are love! And I love them… Almost as much as the Hershey kisses stashed in my desk…