Chapter 34

Grissom slowly regained consciousness to the tune of what felt and sounded like elephants tap-dancing on his skull. He could hear someone crying and sniffling in the background. It sounded like a little girl. Groggily he struggled to take stock of his surroundings.

He was outside, in the open. It felt like he was on a stretcher. He groaned but made a tremendous effort to open his eyes. He couldn't remember why he was feeling the way he was, but he knew it could not be good.

On his first attempt, he quickly shut his eyes again. There was sunlight. He then laboriously dragged a hand over his eyes and opened them cautiously. He blinked several times to adjust to the light. The pounding in his head had not lessened. But he felt a great terror and somehow knew that headache or not, he had to deal with something urgently.

"He's coming around, sir," said somebody, nearby.

Brass' face came into view. He was considerate enough to block the sunlight.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Grissom's thoughts were rapidly gathering themselves together. He was remembering what he had come home to find and what had put him in this position. He had more important things to say than to answer Brass' question about his well-being. He would live.

"Lindsay?" he asked, fearing the answer. The slight sniffling sounds did not register in his mind.

"She's fine. A little shook up by us bounding in on her room. Sorry, for that by the way. Warrick is holding her. They checked her out. Not a scratch or a mark at all," answered Brass.

Grissom closed his eyes in relief. He knew now that something awful had happened to Catherine. But if something had happened to Lindsay as well, he didn't even want to consider it. Lindsay was ok, she was safe. She would stay that way.

"What happened?" asked Brass.

Grissom sighed.

"I don't really know. One minute, I was on the phone with you, and then I wake up here," answered Grissom.

Brass looked at him in disapproval.

"You didn't think of calling for back-up earlier? Like before you entered the house? Gil, you know better," berated Brass in annoyance.

"Yes, I do," acknowledged Grissom.

"I wasn't thinking very well. Only about Linds and," Grissom didn't finish the thought.

Brass understood of course. He gave a sigh of his own.

"Have you guys found anything?" asked Grissom.

Brass hesitated. The next piece of news was going to annoy his friend to no end. But there was no help for it. It was protocol.

"The dayshift is still going through your house. There is no sign of Catherine anywhere nearby. We've put out a missing person alert on her. All the cops and authorities are on the look-out," said Brass.

Grissom frowned. He tried to get up, only to realize that his pounding head did not cooperate to the movement.

"Hey, easy there," exclaimed Brass, steadying Grissom.

"Sir, you need to lie back down. You need to get to a hospital for some scans, it's likely that you have a concussion," said the paramedic, who had taken care of Grissom.

Grissom only grunted at him and ignored the advice. He still continued to set himself upright and gripped his head with one hand.

"Dayshift?" he growled.

Brass shrugged.

"Graveyard is off-duty. Besides it's your house, and you're graveyard," answered Brass, there was nothing either of them could do anything about really.

"I should've called her, should've checked the whole house first," said Grissom, the guilt washing over him in full force.

"It's not your fault, Grissom," said Brass, knowing that his friend wouldn't believe those words, no matter how many times they were repeated.

"We need to get to her fast. God only knows what he's done to her this time. It was bad enough the last time," said Grissom, in a quiet voice. The quietness of his voice belied the rage and fury within.

Brass stared at him hard. Grissom did not notice. He was thinking.

"Grissom, you cannot go on a man-hunt for the guy, get it? The lab will trace him and we will go and get him. Don't go lone- rangering on this one," warned Brass.

Grissom didn't answer. Brass groaned internally, now he would have to find a way to watch Grissom. He didn't like the look on his face. Brass knew well that Grissom loved Catherine beyond measure. He had changed so much since she had been around. He did not trust Grissom to follow his warning.

"Someone would like to see her daddy now," came the deep voice of Warrick.

He approached the two men, carrying Lindsay in his arms. She was still in her pyjamas and clutching her teddy bear.

Warrick, Nick and Sara had been horrified to find Lindsay at yet another similar crime scene. They had followed after Brass, when he had ripped out of the building in a tearing hurry with a couple of cops behind him. He had simply yelled "Grissom's!" over his shoulder.

That word alone had been enough to make the three CSIs drop whatever they had been doing and race after the detective. Nick had come in to finish up a few things and have breakfast with his colleagues. He had driven simply because he had reached the driver's seat first. No one argued. Everyone was tense as they drove to Grissom's house. In front, they could hear the siren on the police car. It was obviously a very urgent matter.

Sara clasped her hands together hard and her knuckles were white with strain as she sat in the front passenger seat. Her lips were pursed in a line, her heart hammering in her chest. Warrick gripped the seats in front of him, willing Nick to drive faster, but did not say a thing. He knew that Nick was driving as fast as he could. It didn't stop Warrick from wishing that it could be faster though. Nick was thinking the same thing. He gritted his teeth and wished that he could go faster. What on earth had happened?

Upon reaching Grissom's house, Warrick had clamped a hand down hard on Sara's shoulder to prevent her from jumping out of the vehicle immediately. He got a deadly glare for his trouble but ignored it.

"We need to let the police do their work. Clear the place," he told her.

Brass and the policemen had already disappeared into the house. The three of them waited in agony in the Tahoe. A few minutes later, the paramedics came screeching up to a stop beside them.

At this point they figured that it would be safe to go in now. Brass reappeared in the doorway. He was holding a screaming and sobbing Lindsay in his arms. Warrick immediately walked over to take the girl. She was the most used to him, he knew.

"She was in her room. Just woke up, I think. We went in with guns blazing, she got spooked," explained Brass.

Warrick nodded as he took Lindsay. This was terrible. As he tried to soothe Lindsay, he fought back disturbing images of what might have happened. He knew that Grissom had gone home already. He knew that neither one of Lindsay parents would leave her alone. He had a nasty feeling about what had happened.

Warrick immediately regretted not doing more about Lindsay claiming to have seen Ed Willows that evening. His thoughts swirled around as he tried desperately to calm Lindsay and brought her over to a female paramedic to be checked out. His heart tore at the injustice of it all. Lindsay shouldn't have to go through this even once in her young life. Now she had to live through it twice.

Meanwhile, Nick and Sara had started to enter the house, but were barred by Brass. He told them that he had called in the dayshift. Sara's face had twisted into anger and she started to protest vehemently but Brass was firm. Nick was angry too but understood the reasoning. He pulled Sara towards Warrick and Lindsay.

Upon the sight of the little girl, both of them were silent. Both wishing with all their hearts that she didn't have to go through this again. Sara walked over of her own accord and Nick trailed behind slowly. Together they watched over Lindsay and waited for things to unfold.