Deeply
By jcohen2311 AKA Grissomgal71
A/N: This is my first CSI fanfiction in about 15 years. My old username is Grissomgal71 and my 4 previous CSI fanfiction stories are still available here on ffnet. Please check those out if you are interested. I was inspired to start writing again by the show itself, which I am currently rewatching from the beginning, and the wonderful writers who are keeping CSI alive on here. Thank you for your dedication and talent. I know there are still many CSI fanfiction readers and writers out there so many years after the show ended, and I hope you enjoy this story. Thank you for keeping the love alive for this amazing show and its beloved characters. Off we go! Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I don't CSI, the characters, or any of that. But I still love playing with them!
Chapter 1: Pain
"He disliked emotion, not because he felt lightly, but because he felt deeply." -John Buchan
Catherine Willows walked down the hallway of the CSI lab looking for night shift supervisor, Gil Grissom. She yawned, looking into each doorway, but he was nowhere to be found.
They had just come off a double shift that was stretching well into a triple. In fact, she wasn't sure that Grissom had even been home since his original shift, over 24 hours ago.
The preliminary autopsies were ready for their latest victims: two small children, beaten and bloodied and dumped in a remote location.
The scene had been a difficult one, even for the two seasoned CSIs. The children were tossed on the side of the road like garbage, and had obviously been through something terrible
Approaching the bodies, Grissom and Catherine shared a heavy glance. They both knew what this was; they had seen it far too many times before. Sadly, they also knew how this would likely turn out. These poor tortured little souls: abused physically, mentally, sexually; thrown carelessly away when their tiny bodies could no longer bear the brunt of the onslaught.
Grissom blew out a long, tired breath as Catherine caught his eyes again. She could see the pain and sorrow in the blue depths, the helplessness and the anger below the surface, her own eyes mirroring the same strong emotions.
Both CSIs could easily predict what they would eventually conclude: signs of long-term abuse-old scars, healed fractures, faded bruises. The horror most likely inflicted by the parents or another family member.
Even though they felt they already knew the answers, they began processing the scene, hoping to find the evidence needed to bring the perpetrators to justice. That's the most they could hope for in these cases-some kind of justice for these poor broken babies. But they both knew it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
Catherine continued looking for Grissom. When they had returned to the lab, she had noticed that he was squinting in the bright fluorescent lighting and was rubbing his eyes a lot. She wanted to let him know that Doc Robbins was ready for them, but also to check if he was all right.
Catherine breezed past Grissom's darkened office, but then stopped and backtracked. She peered in the window; luckily the blinds weren't completely closed. She could barely make out a hunched figure behind the desk.
She entered without knocking, glad the door was unlocked. As the sliver of light from the hallway cut through the darkened room, Catherine heard a muffled groan from the area of the desk. Quickly shutting the door behind her, she quietly stepped behind the desk.
Grissom sat there, unmoving in his chair, his gaze downward, his head cradled in his hands.
"Hey," Catherine said softly. "You okay?"
He didn't answer, but she heard him exhale shakily.
As her eyes adjusted to the murky darkness, she made out a small bottle on the desk in front of Grissom. She picked it up, realizing it was a prescription bottle and that it was empty. "Migraine?" she inquired gently.
He nodded slowly.
"Did you take your medicine?"
He shook his head this time, finally speaking, "I didn't realize I had run out."
"Do you have more at home?"
He nodded again.
"You should go home."
He looked up, searching her gaze. She met his eyes; even in the dark, she noticed that he was squinting and she could make out the creases of pain on his face. His headache looked to be a bad one.
"The case?" he whispered hoarsely.
"I'll take care of it for now," she assured
He looked like he was going to protest, but she stopped him with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. "Gil, you're in no shape to keep working on this now. You need to get some rest. I'll keep you informed." She paused, thinking. "I'd take you home myself, but Al is ready with the autopsies." She patted his arm. "I'll find someone. I'll be right back."
Catherine wasn't sure where the rest of the team was. She quickly checked in with the receptionist and found out that Nick and Warrick were still out in the field.
On her way back to Grissom's office, she practically ran into Sara in the hallway. "Sara? Hi."
"Hey, Catherine."
"How's your case?"
"Closed. I was just working on my report." She indicated the file folder she was holding.
"Good," Catherine began. "Listen, would you be able to finish that later? Or tomorrow?"
"I guess so. Why?" She was intrigued by Catherine's cryptic question.
"I was wondering…" She paused for a second, not quite sure why she was hesitating. "Would you mind taking Grissom home?"
"Sure," Sara answered immediately. But she was still curious, and now concerned as well. "Why? Is something wrong? Is his car in…"
"He has a migraine," Catherine explained. "He gets them sometimes. It seems to be pretty bad." She took a breath, then added, "He hasn't slept in I don't know how long, and we're working on a rough case. He really needs to take his prescription and get some rest."
"Sure," Sara repeated warmly. "I'll go get my stuff. Where is he?"
"His office."
"Okay. I'll meet you there in five."
"Thanks, Sara."
She flashed her a wide smile. "No problem."
Exactly five minutes later, the ladies stood outside Grissom's office. "Ready?" asked Catherine.
"I'm ready, but I'm just not sure exactly what I should do to help him."
"Just try to keep things as dark and quiet as possible. Make sure he takes his medicine, and get him to bed."
"That's all?"
"That usually works. The pills are strong. He should wake up feeling much better."
"Okay," Sara replied. She nodded, and they went in.
TBC