Rated PG
Disclaimer: This is based on CSI, which is owned by CBS, A. Zuiker, and Atlantic/Alliance, et al. I don't make any profit or make any money from this. No infringement is intended. This is just for fun.
Synopsis: In which we find out what happens to our beloved Grissom, maybe....
Notes: Thanks for reading. thanks to those i've mentioned before. Sean-I hope your sanity is restored and i hope this is enough to molify your angst for being my beta.
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6- aye sea ewe
Brass dial the number. This was a part of the job he hated. It rang twice before a sleepy voice answered.
"Hello, my name is Jim Brass. I'm with the Las Vegas Police Department. I'm looking for Gillian Genoix."
The sleepy voice was suddenly awake and full of trepidation. "This is Gillian."
"Do you know Gil Grissom?" Brass asked uncertainly.
"Yes."
"I'm afraid I have some bad news."
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Gillian drummed her fingers on the ER desk. The nurse gave her a harsh glare. Gillian stopped and began chewing her nails.
"I'm sorry." said the nurse. "What did your say your name was?"
"Gillian Grissom. Det. Brass called me a while ago and said something happened to my father and I'm trying to find out if he's okay."
"Grisham?" The nurse shook her head. "I don't have a listing for a Jill Grisham."
"It's Grissom. G-R-I-S-S-O-M. Gil. G-I-L." said Gillian, her patience waning. "He works for the crime lab, so there may have been officers or people in jackets with 'forensics' printed across the back accompanying him."
The phone rang. The admitting nurse held up a finger. "Just a moment."
Gillian sank to the floor in front of the desk. Propping her elbows on her knees Gillian put her head on her hands. She had to think about this logically. She could have written down the wrong hospital. Or maybe her pop wasn't listed in the computer yet. Or maybe this nurse was lazy and ignorant.
"No emotions. Not here." Grissom's voice was so clear Gillian jumped.
Gillian was drained and exhausted. She had two more finals in another five hours. Today would be Dr. Harding and Professor Harrison. Harrison would be easy. He hated grading and always used computer corrected tests. Harding on the other hand would most certainly give an essay exam. As long as it wasn't the so called 'Strip Strangler'.
Dr. Harding always emphasized strict scientific detachment. Emotion and opinion had no place in forensics. It was all about the facts given by the evidence. However a discussion on the press, public and investigations turned into a very unscientific debate on how much information should be available. Gillian verses the class.
Some cited the first amendment right to free speech and press, others said the public had a right to know; Gillian insisted that there were facts in every case whose disclosure went beyond the right to know and shouldn't be published because it was nothing more than morbid sensationalism. Her opinion hadn't won her friends, but as she pointed out that was exactly why opinions and emotions had no place in forensic science.
"Miss... miss.. are you okay?"
Gillian woke with a start. She must have dozed off. A young paramedic knelt over her. Gillian felt her face grow warm.
"Yeah. I'm trying to find my father. Guess I fell asleep." Gillian flashed him a weak smile.
"Maybe I can help." The paramedic returned her smile. "My name is Jon."
"I'm Gillian Grissom."
The paramedic's smile brightened. "Would your father be Gil Grissom?"
"Yes." Gillian replied with relief. "Do you know where he is?"
"I brought him in about an hour ago. Dr. Casey treated him."
The paramedic held out a hand to help her up. Gillian was struck by the intense color of his eyes, almost the same hue as her father's. They walked through the wide halls of the emergency room. A doctor about Grissom's age stood in the doorway of one of the exam rooms, studying a chart. The absent gesture he used to push his glasses up, reminded Gillian of her father, once again, and tears sprang to her eyes.
The paramedic waved at the doctor. "Dr. Casey," he called out. "Just the man I was looking for."
The doctor looked up from his charts. "Hey, Jon. What can I do for you?"
"I'm helping this young lady locate her father." replied Jon. "Gil Grissom? Brought in roughly an hour ago?"
Dr. Casey nodded. "Yes, I'm still waiting for the results from the blood work. I'll know more when I see those."
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Gillian stepped off the elevator. Dr. Casey had directed her to the intensive care unit. He said a nurse would help her find her father's room.
An alarm went off, sounding harsh and loud in the still, silent hallway. A few nurses and a tired-looking doctor rushed into a nearby room, pushing several carts of equipment. Gillian knew what it meant. Dr. Colin had taken Gillian, her brother and sister to work with him on many occasions. He had shown them the myriad of machines. Gillian knew someone had just gone into cardiac arrest. She swallowed the enormous lump in her throat, fighting back the tears. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the worst, and looked around for the nurses station.