Author's Note: Whew I am glad I got through the first chapter in one piece. I didn't really have a game plan; I just sat down and typed for about an hour. But I think I have the plan figured out, so the rest of the story should have some semblance of organization to it. I don't own the song "Bad Moon Rising" It belongs to Creedence Clearwater Revival (but it is a wicked cool song so go listen to it!).We all know that I am not making any money off this (boo!) and that I don't own any of the characters (double boo!).
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Nick had not been able to fall back asleep after his dream. He had laid awake for hours trying to sort out his thoughts. He couldn't explain it; he knew something was wrong. He had a gut instinct that something very bad was about to happen. It was a strange premonition – kind of like when you predict what song will come on the radio seconds before the first chords begin to play. Except this feeling was much bigger than a song. Nick had analyzed the dream over and over again trying to decipher what it all meant. He didn't understand the symbolic nature of the night sky or the coyote. He wasn't all that great at interpreting dreams anyways and he finally decided that this was one puzzle that he was going to have to abandon before he ever solved it. He was feeling lonely and more than a little shaken up so he decided to head into work early. There was always plenty of paperwork to be done and he just needed to be in the company of his team. Yet despite his desire to be around his friends, he couldn't help but feel a little bit bitter when he was around them as well. Their concern for him had waned since he had been released from the hospital nearly three months ago. He didn't expect them to cling to feelings of fear for his well-being but he realized that he and they were operating on very different wavelengths as of late. He had suffered a near death experience and as a result, his outlook on life was very different. He made a point to tell everyone how much he cared for them. He just looked at life in a much more positive light. He didn't want to worry about the future; he just wanted to live in the now. The trouble was, his team mates had not had the same type of experience. They didn't have that life altering moment of clarity. They had returned to their routine life of work where Nick had discovered that a job was not the most important thing. He had experienced a shift in his priorities and it bothered him that his friends didn't understand or recognize that. They seemed to think that it was just a phase that he would grow out of. They tolerated his speeches about the true meaning of life with good humor but his words didn't carry much weight. They were consumed by their jobs. Nick was consumed by the sense of entrapment he felt. He had often wondered if he would be better off leaving the team. He felt like he needed to escape, to truly experience life. He always managed to convince himself that he was deluding himself and that work was simply something he was going to have to ease himself back into. He didn't realize it then but he was lying to himself. The real reason he wouldn't leave wasn't because of the necessity of the job but rather the security it provided. The job provided a stable backdrop that allowed him to ignore the very real issues that he was going through. He was still plagued by nightmares of the attack and his fear was slowly eating away at him. His friends would deny it to themselves but Nick had changed. He was far more forlorn and withdrawn than they had ever seen him. He was more pessimistic and his level of work had slipped. It hadn't slipped so much that it had compromised the integrity of his investigations, but it had suffered. He just didn't care anymore. He buried himself in work because it turned his thoughts away from Rachel and the evil that she had imposed upon him. Everyday he battled his demons but the war raging on within him was so intensely private that his team mates didn't see the sheer force of it. He used his job as a shield to protect himself from the fears that he wasn't allowing himself to confront. But he doesn't realize that fears can't be suppressed. They will resurface; often at times when we can least afford them to.
As he drove to work however he didn't dwell on his thoughts. He flipped the radio on to an oldies station. He just needed some light music that didn't carry some deep message with it. Country music was great but sometimes he felt like his radio was giving him a lecture on morality.
I hear hurricanes ablowing
I know the end is coming soon
I hear rivers overflowing
I hear the voice of rage and ruin.
Hmmmm he thought. Interesting song given his current feelings of uneasiness. After last night's dream, the song summed up his fears pretty well. There was a bad moon rising. He had a premonition and he needed to share it with someone. He went up to the CSI headquarters and was semi-relieved, semi-annoyed to find that the whole team was already there.
"Hey, you guys are having a party and you didn't invite me? Man, it's a good thing that I don't get my feelings hurt too easily". His tone was light but they could all see the lines of worry etched on his face.
"Well if we invited you then we would have to invite your little lackey, Greg. By the way, where is our little lab rat?" Sara had a playful smirk on her lips as she tried to keep her tone teasing. Before Nick could reply, an indignant voice floated through the open door.
"Your little 'lab rat' is slaving away so that you can proudly take my findings and flaunt them as your own. Really, its okay – I don't need accolades. I live to make you people look good" Greg's reply had just a hint of annoyance to it. He had been run ragged around here lately. It seemed like every criminal in Vegas waited until he started his shift to commit their crimes. There was a never-ending stream of samples coming through the lab doors. Nick felt a small twinge of regret that he had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had barely said more then two words to his best friend in the last four days. He would have to remember to stop in and talk to Greg before he left. He sighed unconsciously and sank into the couch.
Catherine looked at him in that knowing, maternal sort of way. "Everything alright Nick?"
He shook his head ruefully. "I had the dream again last night. Nothing new there…….." He didn't want to tell everyone. He had only wanted to tell Warrick, or maybe Cat but now he had everyone watching him intently, waiting for him to continue.
"Anyways, this time the setting was different. I mean, we were still in the kitchen when she….well you know. Anyways, the difference was that it was nighttime outside. There was a storm brewing and there was this coyote. It was just watching me and I swear it was trying to tell me something. I just have a really bad feeling, that's all. I don't mean to unload all of this on you guys, I'm sorry."
Grissom looked at him sternly. "First of all, don't apologize. We're a team and we want to help you sort through this. Second of all, what kind of bad feeling do you have? What is it that you're worried about?"
"I don't really know exactly" Nick shrugged. "I just have this gut instinct that something really bad is about to happen. I feel like this evil presence is hanging over my head. Over all our heads actually. It's the same awful feeling I had when Rachel attacked me. It is just a feeling that there is some sort of evil force at work."
Sara fought back a grin. She wasn't laughing at his fears; he just sounded so dramatic. She thought that he was overreacting. "Look Nick, it's just a dream. And lots of people have recurring dreams that change over time. I have a dream where I am being chased at a carnival and every time I have it, I get a little bit further away and I see a little bit more of the story. So it's not that strange for the dream to be a bit different this time." There was triumph in her voice, like that explained everything. Her response did nothing to assuage his fears.
"Yeah, but I am telling you, I woke up with this evil presence hanging over me. I swear that something bad is going to happen. It feels exactly like it did last time. Maybe Rachel is getting someone else to carry out the plan. Maybe I know because I have some sort of strange bond to her" Okay, he knew he was reaching but he had to convince them that there was something really wrong here. To his dismay, they didn't look worried; they looked sympathetic. They had that look that plainly said: "Oh poor Nicky. His near death experience has caused him to go off the deep end". He wanted to protest but instead stayed silent. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was losing it. Grissom excused himself and left the room for a moment. In his absence no one spoke. Nick was feeling torn between fear of his premonition and the betrayal he felt because his friends wouldn't even believe him. He felt like he was losing his mind. Warrick, Catherine and Sara stayed silent because they didn't know what to say. Privately they all thought that Nick was being pushed closer and closer to the edge but none of them knew how to reach them. The four sat in awkward silence until Grissom returned a few minutes later.
"Nick, I just called the psychiatric institute that Rachel was committed to. She has had no outside contact and there have been no recent releases of any patients that she could have tried to convince of her plan. There is no way that anything she did before can happen again. It was just a dream. Maybe you've been pushing yourself too hard lately." Even as he said those words, he knew that wasn't the problem. If anything, Nick had been pushing himself less hard in recent weeks but now was not the time to bring that up. He needed to reassure Nick that everything was fine.
"You're right. It was just a crazy dream – a very real feeling dream, but a dream nonetheless. I am not going to worry about it" His tone belied his thoughts. Deep down he knew that he was right but he didn't need to drag everybody on the team down. He would deal with it on his own. He always did. He began to attack a mound of paperwork and didn't look up until he heard Grissom answer a phone that Nick hadn't even realized was ringing. He could only hear half the conversation, but what he heard was interesting.
"Jim? Slow down……..you're where?........You're kidding me………yeah, we'll be right there……….yes, ALL of us……….I know what I'm doing". He hung up the phone and faced his team. His usually strong features were now contorted with a look of shock, fear and confusion. He thought out his words carefully before he spoke.
"That was Brass. There's been a very…….bizarre killing about an hour from here. The body was discovered this morning. I want everyone on it. Just get in the Tahoe and I will explain more when we get there." He left no room for argument. The team exchanged looks and followed him to the car. He didn't tell them where they were going; he just drove. They didn't question him but as time went on they all realized that the surroundings looked increasingly familiar. They had been driving for almost an hour when Sara spoke.
"Wait a minute. We've been here before. Isn't this where…….." She looked inquisitively at Grissom. He nodded, but it was Nick who finished her sentence.
"We're going to where we found the bodies of Cory and Dale Hubert. There's been another murder"
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The desert was far cooler this time as they arrived at the crime scene. There was no sun today. Instead, there were dark clouds in the sky and the radio announced that there would be another storm soon. It was so unusual for Nevada to be the recipient of two thunderstorms in two days. Thankfully, Brass and his men had already erected a tarp over the crime scene in order to preserve evidence. Still, the CSI's needed to work fast in order to beat the rain. As the Tahoe pulled off the road, they all saw it. A red river was making its way across the highway. The crimson had flowed down from the slight incline to the right of the road. It was this red river that had led to the discovery of the body. A young couple who was just passing through had stopped when they saw the long path of blood that stained the road. They had climbed out of there car and followed the blood back to its point of origin. Then they had called the police. The CSI's walked towards where Brass and his men waited. Before they could even get close enough to look at the body, Brass approached them, a grim look on his face.
"We found this in the victim's pocket" was all he said. He handed Grissom as piece of paper that had been folded precisely into quarters. Carefully, he opened it and read the contents aloud.
The day of reckoning is coming. We will face the rage of angels. The time has come for the fallen to come forth with their power and glory. There is nothing sacred anymore. The blood will spring forth and cleanse the wounds of humanity. Fear not death, for the New Messiah has arrived. The judgment shall be passed and the unworthy will meet their destiny. Fear not death, for the New Messiah has risen from the ashes and is reborn in the blood.
The team was silent as they struggled to absorb the words in the note. It was Grissom who spoke first. He turned to Nick.
"I guess your gut was right Nick. The evil is back". He studied the young man's face trying to gauge his reaction to the news.
Nick knew he should be afraid but instead he felt a sense of security. It was just like his dream. He understood the dream now. He had been looking through the window, not into his past, but into his future. The scene outside the window in his dream was now his waking crime scene. He had that feeling that he had already been at this exact scene before. Not the same place; he had already physically been to this site. But his dream had allowed him to see forward and view part of the crime scene even before he knew it existed. It was sort of spooky but really didn't feel all that different from a form of déjà vu. He wasn't completely shocked by the discovery. He was even less shocked when he looked around the crime scene and saw foot prints on the ground. They had been made when something had walked through the blood. Warrick came to stand beside him and began snapping pictures of the footprints.
"I'll take these back to the lab and try and find a match for whatever made these prints"
Nick shook his head.
"That's not necessary. I can tell you right now what made those prints. Those prints were made by a coyote".