XXII - SUSPENDED
Nick was sitting in the break room. His hands were hanging between his knees, and he was staring at the door blankly. Outside in the hallway, he heard the murmuring of voices, but no one was speaking loudly enough for him to actually hear an entire conversation. Every once in a while he would catch a word - like 'shot' - or a phrase - like 'grabbed Nick's gun' - rising up out of the general hum, before disappearing into nothingness again.
Earl was dead.
Earl was dead, and Becky had shot him with Nick's gun. And Nick's gun was now in an evidence bag somewhere. And Earl was in a body bag - funny how that worked. Nick's smile was grim.
He wondered idly if any of the photos of the missing children had been hit by splatter. He supposed it didn't really matter if they had been, as they were only blown up faxes anyway and easily replaced, but still he knew that Grissom didn't like stains on his case files, whether it was coffee or blood.
He looked at his legs, idly picking at one of the myriad of blood spots that covered them. Pick. Pick. Pick. He knew he would never wear these pants again. He looked at his shoes - a nice pair of old style Converse high tops - and saw splatter that vaguely resembled a butterfly. Rorschach would be thrilled.
He looked at his legs again. Pick. Pick. Pick.
* * * * *
Just down the hallway, Sara was pacing. She still couldn't believe Earl was dead. One minute he had been demanding a lawyer, and the next minute the back of his head was gone, and brain matter and blood was everywhere. Inside the room where Earl had been shot, she saw Grissom and Brass conversing tensely with Mobley, as Ecklie's team worked around them. She could just imagine what they were discussing.
Nick was going to be suspended. Internal Affairs would be called in to investigate and see if his actions had been negligent, and until the investigation was over he wouldn't be allowed to work. Sara frowned. She knew that Nick would be cleared - it was, after all, policy they wear their guns while working, but just the thought that he may be blamed for this would tear him apart.
Sara glanced down the hallway towards the lounge room. Mobley had sent Nick in there the minute Nick finished giving his statement, and had posted O'Reilly just outside the door. No one was allowed in, and no one was allowed out. She could just imagine what type of hell Nicky was going through right now. He shouldn't be by himself.
To her left, Warrick was just finishing giving his statement to Officer Bowdly and Catherine was talking to the same officer who had taken Nick's statement earlier.
Sara looked at Grissom again. He was yelling something at Mobley, right up in his face. Behind him, Brass didn't look to happy. Mobley was an ass. Ecklie had given up all pretense of work, and watched the men with a look of avid glee in his eyes. He was repulsive.
Sara looked towards the lounge again. 'Nick,' she thought, 'Nick.'
* * * * *
"You can question us until hell freezes over, and you will get the same story from everyone! No one could have stopped her." Grissom's voice was loud, his expression angry, as he looked at Mobley.
"What was he doing with a gun in there?" Mobley responded, just as angry.
"Do you even READ the memorandums? Are you familiar with LVPD policy? He was at work. Remember the mandate? We all had our guns on." Grissom was chest to chest with Mobley, shaking with barely suppressed fury.
"Brass, you better get him under control, or young Mr. Stokes won't be the only one suspended tonight, you understand me?" Mobley's glance speared Brass, before returning to Grissom. "This is a fucking media nightmare, Grissom! You have no idea how much damage control we'll need! If there is even the slightest doubt in the minds of our Internal Affairs people that Nick could have prevented this, I'll have his job and bring him up on charges of negligence causing death! Do you understand me? Now, are you going to tell him, or will I?"
Brass had grabbed Grissom's arm, and was pulling him back. "We understand perfectly, Mobley. But you have your statements from Gil's team, all highly trained professionals I might add. You have my statement. You know we were video taping the interview for Sheriff Davis to use for the court case in Michigan. Internal Affairs should be able to address this pretty quickly. You know as well as I do it's shut and dry." Brass glared at Mobley as Grissom shook off his arm and headed for the doorway. "If you drag this out one hour longer than you need to, I'll make your life a living hell. You're not the only one with friends in high places."
* * * * *
Catherine and Warwick were standing with Sara when Grissom stormed out of the room. He quickly walked over to them, Brass on his heals. Looking at O'Reilly standing in the doorway of the lounge, he sighed angrily.
"Nick still in there?"
Warrick nodded. "Mobley told O'Reilly not to let anyone in to talk to him." His tone expressed his disgust.
"I hate Mobley with the red-hot passion of a thousand burning suns!" Sara muttered. "He's such a prick."
"Where's Becky?"
"She's been taken to the hospital - she's suffering from shock. Mobley sent a couple of escorts with her. She's been arrested." Catherine responded to Grissom's, smiling slightly at Sara's last statement. "So, what did Mobley say about Nick?"
Grissom sighed. "Suspension. Internal Affairs. You know, the usual. I'm going to go tell him now, and send him home." He looked at his watch. "I can't believe it's only 6:30 - 1 ½ hours until I have to go to work." Catherine and Warrick groaned. "Sara, you want to come with me when I talk to Nick?"
"You couldn't keep me away, Grissom," she replied. "I'm taking the night off too. Nick is going to need me." She turned to look at Catherine and Warrick as she followed Grissom and Brass down the hall. "I'll call you guys later and let you know how he's doing."
* * * * *
O'Reilly didn't put up an argument as the three of them stepped into the lounge. Nick stood immediately upon seeing them, walking over to Sara and looking at her thoroughly before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?" she replied.
"I'm better, now that you're here." Nick turned to Grissom. "Guess I'm suspended."
Grissom nodded. "Guess you are. Sorry Nick."
"It won't be for long, Nick. One, two days - at the most." Brass added. "Internal Affairs will get this closed quickly." He reached out, and squeezed Nick's arm. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
Nick nodded, but didn't look convinced. "I'm sorry Grissom. If I'd have thought Becky would do something like that - "
"You weren't the only one in there with a gun, Nick. You were just the closest. Now go home. I'll keep you informed."
Sara grabbed Nick's hand, looking at Grissom and Brass. "Listen, come to my house for breakfast tomorrow. Bring Catherine and Warrick. I'll make crepes, and we can all talk then."
"You're coming with me?" Nick smiled at her.
"No." Sara replied. "You're coming with me."
As they walked out the door, Nick turned back to Grissom and Brass. "Don't worry - when she says 'I'll make crepes' she really means me. Sara's only allowed to set the table."
______
Author's note: I didn't think I would be working on this story anymore today, but here I am, and here it is. Please let me know what you think. I appreciate all reviews!
Nick was sitting in the break room. His hands were hanging between his knees, and he was staring at the door blankly. Outside in the hallway, he heard the murmuring of voices, but no one was speaking loudly enough for him to actually hear an entire conversation. Every once in a while he would catch a word - like 'shot' - or a phrase - like 'grabbed Nick's gun' - rising up out of the general hum, before disappearing into nothingness again.
Earl was dead.
Earl was dead, and Becky had shot him with Nick's gun. And Nick's gun was now in an evidence bag somewhere. And Earl was in a body bag - funny how that worked. Nick's smile was grim.
He wondered idly if any of the photos of the missing children had been hit by splatter. He supposed it didn't really matter if they had been, as they were only blown up faxes anyway and easily replaced, but still he knew that Grissom didn't like stains on his case files, whether it was coffee or blood.
He looked at his legs, idly picking at one of the myriad of blood spots that covered them. Pick. Pick. Pick. He knew he would never wear these pants again. He looked at his shoes - a nice pair of old style Converse high tops - and saw splatter that vaguely resembled a butterfly. Rorschach would be thrilled.
He looked at his legs again. Pick. Pick. Pick.
* * * * *
Just down the hallway, Sara was pacing. She still couldn't believe Earl was dead. One minute he had been demanding a lawyer, and the next minute the back of his head was gone, and brain matter and blood was everywhere. Inside the room where Earl had been shot, she saw Grissom and Brass conversing tensely with Mobley, as Ecklie's team worked around them. She could just imagine what they were discussing.
Nick was going to be suspended. Internal Affairs would be called in to investigate and see if his actions had been negligent, and until the investigation was over he wouldn't be allowed to work. Sara frowned. She knew that Nick would be cleared - it was, after all, policy they wear their guns while working, but just the thought that he may be blamed for this would tear him apart.
Sara glanced down the hallway towards the lounge room. Mobley had sent Nick in there the minute Nick finished giving his statement, and had posted O'Reilly just outside the door. No one was allowed in, and no one was allowed out. She could just imagine what type of hell Nicky was going through right now. He shouldn't be by himself.
To her left, Warrick was just finishing giving his statement to Officer Bowdly and Catherine was talking to the same officer who had taken Nick's statement earlier.
Sara looked at Grissom again. He was yelling something at Mobley, right up in his face. Behind him, Brass didn't look to happy. Mobley was an ass. Ecklie had given up all pretense of work, and watched the men with a look of avid glee in his eyes. He was repulsive.
Sara looked towards the lounge again. 'Nick,' she thought, 'Nick.'
* * * * *
"You can question us until hell freezes over, and you will get the same story from everyone! No one could have stopped her." Grissom's voice was loud, his expression angry, as he looked at Mobley.
"What was he doing with a gun in there?" Mobley responded, just as angry.
"Do you even READ the memorandums? Are you familiar with LVPD policy? He was at work. Remember the mandate? We all had our guns on." Grissom was chest to chest with Mobley, shaking with barely suppressed fury.
"Brass, you better get him under control, or young Mr. Stokes won't be the only one suspended tonight, you understand me?" Mobley's glance speared Brass, before returning to Grissom. "This is a fucking media nightmare, Grissom! You have no idea how much damage control we'll need! If there is even the slightest doubt in the minds of our Internal Affairs people that Nick could have prevented this, I'll have his job and bring him up on charges of negligence causing death! Do you understand me? Now, are you going to tell him, or will I?"
Brass had grabbed Grissom's arm, and was pulling him back. "We understand perfectly, Mobley. But you have your statements from Gil's team, all highly trained professionals I might add. You have my statement. You know we were video taping the interview for Sheriff Davis to use for the court case in Michigan. Internal Affairs should be able to address this pretty quickly. You know as well as I do it's shut and dry." Brass glared at Mobley as Grissom shook off his arm and headed for the doorway. "If you drag this out one hour longer than you need to, I'll make your life a living hell. You're not the only one with friends in high places."
* * * * *
Catherine and Warwick were standing with Sara when Grissom stormed out of the room. He quickly walked over to them, Brass on his heals. Looking at O'Reilly standing in the doorway of the lounge, he sighed angrily.
"Nick still in there?"
Warrick nodded. "Mobley told O'Reilly not to let anyone in to talk to him." His tone expressed his disgust.
"I hate Mobley with the red-hot passion of a thousand burning suns!" Sara muttered. "He's such a prick."
"Where's Becky?"
"She's been taken to the hospital - she's suffering from shock. Mobley sent a couple of escorts with her. She's been arrested." Catherine responded to Grissom's, smiling slightly at Sara's last statement. "So, what did Mobley say about Nick?"
Grissom sighed. "Suspension. Internal Affairs. You know, the usual. I'm going to go tell him now, and send him home." He looked at his watch. "I can't believe it's only 6:30 - 1 ½ hours until I have to go to work." Catherine and Warrick groaned. "Sara, you want to come with me when I talk to Nick?"
"You couldn't keep me away, Grissom," she replied. "I'm taking the night off too. Nick is going to need me." She turned to look at Catherine and Warrick as she followed Grissom and Brass down the hall. "I'll call you guys later and let you know how he's doing."
* * * * *
O'Reilly didn't put up an argument as the three of them stepped into the lounge. Nick stood immediately upon seeing them, walking over to Sara and looking at her thoroughly before pulling her into a tight embrace. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?" she replied.
"I'm better, now that you're here." Nick turned to Grissom. "Guess I'm suspended."
Grissom nodded. "Guess you are. Sorry Nick."
"It won't be for long, Nick. One, two days - at the most." Brass added. "Internal Affairs will get this closed quickly." He reached out, and squeezed Nick's arm. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
Nick nodded, but didn't look convinced. "I'm sorry Grissom. If I'd have thought Becky would do something like that - "
"You weren't the only one in there with a gun, Nick. You were just the closest. Now go home. I'll keep you informed."
Sara grabbed Nick's hand, looking at Grissom and Brass. "Listen, come to my house for breakfast tomorrow. Bring Catherine and Warrick. I'll make crepes, and we can all talk then."
"You're coming with me?" Nick smiled at her.
"No." Sara replied. "You're coming with me."
As they walked out the door, Nick turned back to Grissom and Brass. "Don't worry - when she says 'I'll make crepes' she really means me. Sara's only allowed to set the table."
______
Author's note: I didn't think I would be working on this story anymore today, but here I am, and here it is. Please let me know what you think. I appreciate all reviews!
