Becky's chapter! Enjoy!
Sara bit back tears as her fingernails gouged into the polished wooden casket.
'Wh...Why? Who? Who is sick enough to do this?!' Sara cried angrily. She knew as she said the words that she had had enough experience in crime to know that there were people who would do it...but their friend? Their colleague? Practically their brother? It just wasn't supposed to happen. It was too close for comfort.
Grissom wrapped his arm around Sara's shoulders, trying to comfort her, but truth be told, he felt no better. Warrick had been laid to rest peacefully, and that's all that Grissom wanted for him. Peace. After the video tape Warrick had left behind...this was just unthinkable. His heart ached painfully, his throat was dry, closing up. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. The only thing going through his head was finding Warrick and smashing the skull of the bastard who disrespected his best friend.
Grissom felt faint as the image of Warrick's discarded body in the desert, or a back street, flashed through his mind over and over and over. His grip tightened on Sara's shoulder.
Suddenly anger flared inside him and he walked away from Sara's side stiffly. He stood before the cold morgue hatches which hid the most recent cases. He breathed in deeply. It wasn't enough. He yelled out, slamming his fist into one of the hatches with a loud crack. The pain that flared felt like nothing. His throat ached, choking on tears.
Grissom stood back, glaring at the deep indent he'd created in the polished door.
'G-Greg, and Nick, and Catherine...they need to know Gil,' Sara whispered slowly.
'No...they need to recover...' Grissom answered.
Sara's eyes widened. 'You're seriously saying we should cut them out of this?! We can't!'
Grissom stood in silence, not turning to face her.
'Dust the coffin for prints,' he told her.
Sara shook her head in disbelief, 'You're joking. I'm telling them Griss. It's their right to know. They're a part of this.'
As she marched for the door, a powerful grip tightened round her wrist. Sara turned a full glare back on Grissom, trying to ignore the pain grinding on her wrist bones.
'They'll want to help...but they need to get better.'
'Gil Grissom. Let go of me.'
Grissom looked into her fiery eyes for a moment before stepping back, taken aback by his actions.
'I..I'm sorry...'
'Gil...it's gonna be alright, we'll find him,' Sara said, looking up into his downcast face. She pulled him into a hug. He felt frozen against her, not reciprocating the motion. Pulling away awkwardly, Sara stroked Grissom's arm before turning to leave again, rubbing her wrist on the way out.
Grissom turned back to the, until now, seemingly forgotten Doc Robbins. He met the doctor's worried gaze before averting his eyes.
'I should have a look at your hand, Gil.'
Grissom looked at his rapidly bruising, deformed fist. He couldn't move it. Stepping forward, he offered it to the doctor for examination.
--
Sara drove back to Desert Palm once more. The flashing neon lights of Las Vegas splashed over her car, illuminating the deep lines of worry on her face. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel nervously. She remembered Warrick's funeral. How Grissom had descended into tears. How everyone had sent him off with best wishes and love. That had been the memory she had been left with. The story was supposed to end then. But now...Warrick was being dishonoured. Dug out of his grave, his eternal peace shattered. She wanted to pull herself into a ball and just lay there, just lay...
Suddenly, headlights flared in her face and she was brought back to reality with the sounds of screeching rubber and blazing horns. Sara swerved, her heart hammering. Narrowly missing the sidewalk, she pulled back to the right side of the road. She swore under her breath, her sweaty palms gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Soon, she arrived at the hospital and shot out of the car, setting off the locking system as she made for the front doors. She speed walked through the medicinally clean corridors, towards the room where Greg resided. God, she needed to be in his arms right now. Promised that everything was going to be alright. She watched the floor rolling away beneath her feet, hands deep in her pockets. She tried to think up something to say, something to explain the situation. Warrick's been abducted and is being used to mock us? Not quite.
Eventually reaching the right room, she pushed open Greg's door. She took in a deep breath and looked up at the bed in the centre of the back wall. The...empty...neatly made bed. Sara's brows knitted together in confusion. She checked the room number. Definitely Greg's...
She quickly manoeuvred from the room and hunted down the nearest nurse.
'Hey, where's the patient from room 204?' Sara demanded.
The young nurse, a 'Christy Taylor,' Sara noted from the ID, studied Sara's face.
'You're...Sara Sidle?'
Sara narrowed her eyes and nodded nervously.
Christy looked her dead in the eyes, 'I'm sorry...'
Her whole face was full of sympathy.
Sara shifted her weight onto the other foot.
'What?'
'He...passed away...' Christy replied solemnly.
'What? He...passed away?' Sara choked.
'I'm sorry...'
'No, this is a joke,' Sara laughed nervously, 'Tell me this is a joke!'
Christy didn't answer.
Sara stared at the nurse's downcast expression.
'You...you've got the wrong person...Greg isn't...dead. He can't be! He was fine!'
'There were...complications...' Christy explained, 'We couldn't save him...'
'No. No...no...' Sara whispered, tears shaking up her speech. She shook her head softly. She felt light-headed. Her muscles weakened. Her vision blurred. Black.
--
Greg stood there. His arms outstretched towards Sara, biting back laughter as he crept up behind her. Sara stood unaware before him, listening to the nurse, watching her solemn face. Christy was so believable!
Just as he was about to grab and tickle, Sara suddenly dropped to the floor.
His eyes met with Christy's.
'Ah...' Greg said. He pursed his lips. That wasn't quite intentional.
Christy crouched beside Sara and pressed her fingers to the collapsed CSI's neck.
'She's fainted.'
Greg tilted his head from side to side. He bit his lip as he laughed.
'She's gonna kill me when she wakes up...'
Cute puppy dog eyes persuade you to press green button and leave words of commentatious value. XD