Shadow Play

Chapter 35

"How long ago did it happen?" Flanked on one side by Catherine and the other by the scrub-clad nurse who had met them at the elevator, Grissom strode purposefully along the third floor corridor.

"Almost two hours ago." The nurse, a good half foot shorter than either of her companions, struggled to match their pace. "She was admitted late last night but the only thing we could really do was to try and make her comfortable.; she slipped into a coma around six o'clock this morning and died without regaining consciousness."

"And he's been here with her the whole time?" Grissom's tone was terse.

"Yes, he refused to leave." She nodded quickly. "It's not all that unusual with late-stage cases, especially when it's obvious that the end is so close." She sighed regretfully. "We offered to call a family member to be with him but he told us that there wasn't anybody else."

"That's the story he gave me too."

Grissom bit back a groan as his recently-repaired abdominal muscles began to protest the punishing pace and, with the speed dropping off, the young nurse was finally able to catch up.

"We finally managed to get your name and cell phone number out of him but when we tried getting in touch the call was answered by a police officer who said you'd just been involved in a traffic accident; that's when we tracked you down to the ER." Pulling to a stop, she pointed to the closed door of room 336. "This is the room they're in."

"Okay." Grissom exhaled heavily as he stared at the wood-veneer door. "Give me ten minutes or so to talk to him and then we'll see about getting him out of here."

"Thank you." For the first time since she'd met them, the nurse smiled. "We generally like to give people time to be alone to come to terms with what's just happened but he's been in there so long now and..." She shrugged helplessly. "... there are things we really need to do."

"I understand." With a quick glance to his left, he offered her a polite smile. "Like I said, I'll get him out of here as quickly as I can."

With an appreciative nod, the nurse returned to her duties and Catherine waited until she was out of sight before speaking up.

"I can't believe that his mother was dying and he never said a word." Suddenly realizing how close she was to the room, she lowered her voice so as not to be overheard. "Normally, that man craves attention and he'd have had no end of it if he'd told people what was going on."

"Well, he didn't want it this time." Turning from her, Grissom stared once again at the door. "He only let me in on it a couple of weeks ago and he probably wouldn't have done that if I hadn't forced it out of him." He shook his head at the memory of Hodges 'interrogation'. "I arranged for immediate leave and made him promise to keep in touch but I never heard from him and I've been so wrapped up in everything else that's been going on that I never really gave it another thought." With a weary sigh, he scrubbed his hand across his face. "I should have checked up on him."

"From where - your hospital bed?" Catherine allowed herself a quick chuckle. "You've had your own problems to deal with, remember; you can't be expected to do everything."

"Maybe so but I should never have forgotten about him." With a heavy sigh, he turned to look back along the corridor. "Jim's waiting for Sara, right?"

"He certainly is and, the minute she'd released, the two of them will head up here." With a smile, she nodded towards the closed door. "You want me to come with you?"

"No, that's okay." Tempting though the offer was Grissom knew he couldn't take her up on it. "I think it'll be better if I go in alone."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Reaching out, he pushed down on the handle and, taking a deep breath, eased the door open and ventured inside.

Quietly closing the door behind him, Grissom stood still, allowing his eyes a moment to adjust to the much lower light level of the darkened room after the bright fluorescent glare of the hallway outside. Within seconds, the room took shape – the large hospital bed with its much too still occupant, the blank screened monitors that had, until recently, been charting the final moments of a life and finally, alone and seemingly unaware, the familiar shape of David Hodges seated, his head down, on the far side of his mother's deathbed.

"I'm sorry, David."

"It was so quick." Hodges spoke without looking up. "After everything she's been through, the end was just so quick."

"That's something to be grateful for." Stepping closer to the bed, Grissom gazed down compassionately at the newly-deceased woman. "She's not suffering anymore, David; she's at peace now."

Lying on her back with the sheet pulled up over her chest and her head tilted slightly towards her son, Dorothy Hodges' body showed clearly the ravages of her disease. Her face was drawn, the sunken cheeks and pallid, gray complexion a testament to the battle she'd spent the past months fighting whilst the stick-thin arms and almost skeletal hands that lay, lightly clasped atop the sheet, spoke of a fragility and frailty that only terminal illness can bring.

"Yes, I guess she is." Leaning in, Hodges lovingly ran his hand over his mother's steel-grey hair. He was unshaven, the clothing that he wore wrinkled and stained and, even a bed's width away, Grissom could clearly discern the sour tang of stale sweat that emanated from the usually neat and tidy lab tech. "Knowing that doesn't make it any easier though."

"No, I don't suppose it does." Looking around, Grissom caught sight of a second chair and pulled it over to the bed. "Losing someone you love is always hard; especially when it's a parent."

"Have you?" Smoothing his hand lovingly across her brow, Hodges' voice was calm and expressionless "Lost a parent I mean."

Grissom hesitated for only a moment. "Yes." He nodded. "My father."

"And how did you cope with it?"

"I was nine, David." Grissom smiled gently. "I'm not sure that you can really compare my experience with your own."

"I don't know." With his attention fixed firmly on his mother, Hodges shrugged. "Right now I feel like I'm about that age."

"That's only natural." Leaning back, Grissom tried to make himself comfortable on the hard plastic seat. "It doesn't seem to matter what age you are when it happens, when a parent dies you're automatically thrust back into the role of a child."

"And is it natural to feel relieved?" His eyes darted up quickly before Hodges looking away again, clearly embarrassed by what he'd just uttered. "Forget I said that; I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did." Giving up on the chair, Grissom made his way around to the other side of the bed. "Look David, nothing you'll be feeling in the next couple of weeks will be unnatural, okay?" Reaching out, he laid his hand lightly on the other man's shoulder. "You're going to experience all kinds of different things – sadness, emptiness, anger, fear, resentment, even hate." He shrugged. "You're going to go through all of that and more but the one thing you have to remember is that none of it is wrong; it's all just part of the grieving process."

"I feel like I've been grieving for months now."

"And in a way you have but that was more for what you were about to lose." Pausing for a moment, Grissom looked down at the bed. "Now, you have to grief for what you've lost."

With a heavy nod, Hodges drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"When did you last sleep, David?"

"I don't know." Both shoulders rose in a weary shrug. "A couple of days ago, I suppose." Hodges quickly dragged his hand across his eyes. "She'd been really..." He paused as he struggled for a description. "... unsettled since the beginning of the week and I couldn't leave her alone. I tried sleeping in an armchair at the respite center but..." Glancing up, he got his first good look at Grissom and frowned. "What happened to you?"

"When?" Despite the circumstances, Grissom managed a low chuckle as he tugged self-consciously at the blue sling that was supporting his injured arm. "Last week or this morning?" Seeing the other man's frown deepen, he shook his head. "Don't worry about; we can fill you in later."

His only reply was a distracted nod and he watched as Hodges' attention returned once more to his mother.

"You know, David, I never got a chance to say goodbye to my father; he simply came home one day, lay down for a nap and never woke up again. There was no lead up, no signs and no way of knowing I would never get the chance to speak to him again." Closing his eyes, Grissom sighed heavily as a wave of memories washed over him. "You were, at least, given that. You were allowed the opportunity to prepare yourself, to get used to the idea of your mom not being around and, more importantly, to say a proper goodbye to her."

"The problem is I don't think I'm really ready to say it for the final time." Dropping his head, Hodges muttered admission was barely audible.

"Nobody ever is..." Grissom pointed out. "...but it's something that has to be done." Lifting his hand from the tech's shoulder, he made his way back around the bed. "Come on, David; it's time to go."

"I ..." Scrubbing his hand across his face, Hodges gave his head a quick shake. "I'm not sure I have anywhere to go." He looked up plaintively. "I can't go back to the house, not yet; I don't think I could face that now."

"That's okay, you don't have to." With his fingers around the door handle, Grissom smiled gently at the grieving man. "We'll sort something out for you."

With a slow nod, Hodges pushed reluctantly to his feet and, stepping close to the bed, he stared down with a sad smile before looking up to meet Grissom's concerned gaze. "I think I want to do this alone."

"You sure?" At the tech's terse nod, Grissom pushed down on the handle. "Okay then, I'll be right outside."

As the door latched behind him, he leant back against it with a tired sigh; an all-too familiar throbbing had made itself at home above his right temple and, raising his hand, he massaged the area hoping that the action would be enough to negate the migraine that he knew was just waiting to pounce. He never heard Catherine's quiet approach and jerked in surprise as she laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Sorry." With an apologetic smile, she held out a polystyrene cup. "I thought you'd probably need this." She waited for him to take it, watching as he sipped at the steaming hot coffee, before gesturing towards the closed door. "How's he doing?"

"He's okay." Relaxing slightly, Grissom shrugged "Well, as okay as you can be under the circumstances." Looking both ways along the corridor, he frowned. "Sara's not here yet?"

"Not yet but I'm sure she won't be long." At the sound of hurried footsteps approaching, Catherine grinned. "In fact, I bet you this is her now."

Rounding the corner, Jim Brass by her side, Sara's face split into a relieved smile as she caught sight of the two people waiting for her. Bypassing Catherine with barely a glance, she stepped in close to Grissom as her expression changed to one of open concern.

"Jim told me what happened." She spoke quickly, her eyes darting almost furtively towards the still closed hospital room door. "How's Hodges?"

"He's just saying his goodbyes; he should be out in a minute or two." Reaching out, Grissom lightly traced the fresh scratch that marred her cheek and jaw. "More importantly, how are you?"

"The x-rays were clear." Relaxing, the smile returned. "According to the doctor, it's just a couple of strained muscles." Sara attempted a shrug only to suck in a quick breath at the sharp twinge the movement caused. "I've been told to go home, pop a couple of Advil and take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Well, in that case, we'll get you there as soon as possible." Glancing past her, Grissom addressed himself to Brass. "Do you think you could you take her back to the condo, Jim?"

"Uh... "Catherine quickly held up a restraining finger. "I think that should have been 'us' not just 'her'." Stepping forward, she all but snatched the still full coffee cup from Grissom's hand. "You're going home too."

"I can't." With a rueful sigh, Grissom quickly shook his head. "Not just now anyway. I told David I'd be out here waiting for him plus I have to find somewhere that he can stay." He shrugged. "I can't let him down any more than I already have."

"You won't be letting him down." Catherine pointed out. "While you were in there with him, I was making calls to Wendy and Henry and, right now, both of them are on their way over here to take charge." Reaching over, she patted his arm. "I'll stay right here until they arrive so, don't worry, he'll be well looked after."

"I don't know..." Grissom didn't look entirely convinced. "… it kind of feels like I'm abandoning him again."

"I assure you, it will not be abandonment." She grinned. "Given the choice between you and Wendy as a shoulder to cry on, he's going to pick her every time." With a conspiratorial wink in Brass' direction, she cocked her head towards the exit. "Go on Jim, take them home."

With a sense of satisfaction, Catherine watched them turn only to be struck by one final idea.

"Oh, and Gil?" She waited until he looked back before continuing. "Unless it's an absolute emergency, I don't want to see or hear from you before Monday, okay?"

"But what about the Mercedes?" Surprised by the unexpected edict, Grissom frowned. "If you're going to start processing it tonight then you should have some idea what-"

"Whatever we find will wait until Monday" With her arms crossed over her chest, Catherine was brooking no argument. "I mean it, Gil; if you're stupid enough to insist on coming back to work so soon after everything that's happened then the least you can do is make sure that you're well rested." With a determined smile, she switched her attention to Sara. "And that goes for both of you."

"Catherine!"

There was no mistaking the warning in Grissom's tone but Catherine was having none of it.

"Don't 'Catherine' me." Smiling at the petulant, pissed off glare that was now being directed her way, she rolled her eyes. "Look, if anything truly important crops up then I will call you but, until then, I want you to kick back, relax and enjoy the weekend, okay? We've got everything covered."

"She's making sense, you know." Slipping his arm companionably through Sara's, Jim smiled. "For someone who's supposed to be on sick leave you've barely spent any time at home this week; it might be smart to spend the next few days doing absolutely nothing." He shrugged good-naturedly. "What do you say? I'll drop the two of you off and then head over and hit the market to see what I can find us for dinner. Who knows, I might even cook it for you when I get back."

"Well, I can hardly miss that now, can I?" With a defeated sigh, Grissom finally gave in. "All right Cath, you win; we'll go home and, I promise, you won't hear a sound out of us for the whole weekend." Expression changing, he smiled. "But come Monday night, I'll be back in the saddle and as soon as I am, we're not going to stop until we catch whoever it is that's doing all of this. They think they're clever sneaking round and playing games ..." The smile suddenly turned cold and determined. "...they ain't seen nothing yet!"