Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad that you guys still like this story.
I will be wrapping it up soon. Perhaps my estimate of two chapters was a
bit ill considered. It will wrap, in two-four chapters. I've been working
on a possible sequel, but don't know yet. I guess it depends on if you
guys want one. Thanks again for the reviews. I really do appreciate them.
Enjoy this chapter.
*********************
In the SWAT communications van, Catherine and Brass had their usual seats, with Warrick and Nick standing behind them. The call was on its fifth ring before it was answered.
"Is this, Brass?" Charlie Dunn's voice came across the speaker.
"Yeah, Charlie. Tell me how things are going for you."
"Where's my car and the money?"
"Good news, Charlie. The car will be here in under an hour."
"And the cash? I need cash. I told you I wanted cash, man."
"It'll be in the car. Twenty thousand," Brass said evenly.
"No. I'll need more.
"It's a lot of money, Charlie. I went to bat for you. Twenty thousand dollars will go a long way."
"I want more."
Brass shook his head in frustration. "How long are you willing to wait? You want more? Well that's gonna take cutting through more red tape. I can have the car and the twenty-k ready to go within the hour, Charlie. You're a smart guy. Take it while you can."
"It better be in tens and twenties, asshole? Nothing bigger. Ya got it?"
"Absolutely, Charlie." Brass took a deep breath and then plunged ahead. "How are CSI's Grissom and Sidle?"
"They're good. What kind of car you got me for me?"
"Charlie, we're holding up our end of the bargain. I need to speak with Gil Grissom."
"I said he's good, man. Don't you fuckin' trust me?"
"Yeah, well, if I can't talk to him, Charlie, all bets are off. We go back to square one."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dunn's voice rose. Several seconds passed with virtually no sound over the speaker. Catherine clenched her fist while starring at the console. Warrick's hand fell to Catherine's shoulder as Brass attempted to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn't altogether successful.
"Brass, It's Grissom."
"How are you, Gil?"
"I'm tired. Otherwise ok. Just sitting here sharing the phone with Charlie."
"Understood. How's Sara doing?"
The slight sigh could be heard over the speaker. "Sara needs medical attention. And as soon as possible," Grissom's voice was steady, but he couldn't keep the emotion from coming across.
Brass rubbed his chin. "Charlie, I know you're listening. Will you let us help her?"
"She's cool, motherfucker! I think I said they're both good. Grissom just wants his girlfriend outta here. You need to worry about getting' my car and money out here, Brass."
"The car will be there, don't worry. Just remember, Charlie, if Grissom and Sidle don't walk out with you, then you can kiss your deal goodbye."
"Oh, they'll walk out just fine, Brass. You call me when my ride's ready."
"Charlie, let me speak with Sara Sidle."
"Don't fuck with me, man. You'll get 'em both when I drop them outside of town. 'Course, nobody better follow me. Got it?"
The call was disconnected.
"Damnitt," Brass muttered.
"Sounds to me like Sara is pretty bad," Nick stated in an unusually low voice.
"I'm with you, man," Warrick sighed.
"Catherine spun in her chair and addressed the team. "Yeah, I agree. Sara's hurt, probably bad. I caught the inflection in Gil's voice." She looked at Brass.
"What?" he shrugged. "I agree with everything just said. Not much any of us can do about it right now," he frowned and rubbed his face. "I hate this."
"What're you going to tell Martinez?" Catherine sighed.
"He's got the tapes, Cath. I don't know. He'll probably call off negotiations."
"No, he can't," Warrick stated.
"Yeah, Warrick, he can," Catherine answered, rolling her head back in a semi-circle.
"Ok, Cath, you're overdue for that nap," Brass stated and started to stand.
Warrick put his arm around Catherine and guided her toward the door. "I'll make sure she gets there."
"That's very big of you, Warrick," Brass said dryly as he returned to his seat.
Nick glanced at Brass, but couldn't even begin to read the blank slate that his face became.
******************************
Charlie gave a snarling smile to Grissom. "Your cop friend is a fucking prick. He's trying to screw me up. Ain't gonna happen."
Grissom had focused on Sara when Charlie grabbed the phone from his hand. She was covered in a light coating of perspiration and he wiped his fingers gently across her forehead. She was breathing, but she was so still. Unmoving. His mind raced with thoughts he wished to speak. 'Please, wake up. Please, just wake up and smile at me, Sara. You're scaring me. Please? I'm so sorry for all of this. You're scaring me. This is my fault. If you give up I don't want to live. Fight, Sara. Please fight. I'm still holding you. You're scaring me so much. I love you. You're still breathing. Please fight. Please, Sara?'
"Wake her ass up," Charlie growled.
"I'm trying," Grissom replied, barely containing his anger.
"Try harder, dipshit. I need her up and walking in less than an hour."
Grissom was incredulous. "Just how in the hell do you expect Sara to walk out of here? She's unconscious."
"That's your problem, Grissom. Wake her ass up! She likes you, man. Why, I don't fuckin' know. Get her ass awake!"
"I'm trying, Dunn." Grissom replied as he rubbed Sara's cheek.
"Try harder. Trust me, motheufcker, if you don't wake her, I will. And, my methods might be kinda harsh."
Ignoring Charlie, Grissom grasped Sara's face with his bound hands. "Sara? Wake up. You need to wake up for me." Getting no reaction, he moved his hands to just below her collarbone and ground two knuckles on his right hand into her flesh. He knew it was a technique used by doctors to rouse unresponsive patients. Sara groaned and tried to twist her body away. Grissom released a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Good, Sara. Come on, honey, open your eyes. It's me, Grissom."
He was rewarded as her eyelids parted slowly.
"Very good. Come on. Can you say something for me?"
"Leave me alone, Grissom. Turn off the damn light and go back to sleep," Sara managed.
"Good. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but good," Grissom could feel the blush creeping up his neck and could hear Charlie's snicker from across the room.
"Stay awake for me, Sara. Do you remember where you are?"
"It's my dream, Griss. You don't get to ask questions. You just get to take your clothes off," she giggled.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Grissom was by turn, embarrassed and thrilled. She dreamed about him. Well, he reasoned, it was under the influence, but she dreamed about him. If her previous ramblings were any indication he might even have a place in her heart. God, he hoped so. Grissom felt guilt wash over him at thinking such thoughts while they were both stuck in this hellhole. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he rubbed Sara's arm briskly, determined to keep her conscious. He cast a quick look in Charlie's direction and was more than happy to see him occupied with packing his various drugs and paraphernalia into a knapsack.
"Come on, Sara, where are you?"
"Nope. My dream. No questions," she smiled.
"What if I want to ask questions?"
"Save 'em for your own dreams," she giggled again. "If you even dream, Grissom."
"I dream, Sara," he replied softly, not even attempting to cover the hurt in his tone.
"Bugs don't count," she countered and tried to move away from the almost painful rubbing of her arm. "Stop it, Griss. I don't like this dream. That hurts."
"It's supposed to. I'm trying to keep you conscious."
I'm serious dammit, just stop. I've had it with you hurting me," she slurred and tried to push herself away from him. "Never telling me what you mean. Never meaning what you tell me."
He fought Sara gently, trying to keep her from doing further damage to her battered body.
Stopping suddenly, Sara gasped and struggled to take a breath.
Grissom relaxed his hands on her. "Sara, what's wrong? Sara?"
"Hurts."
Grissom leaned closer to her ear and tried to keep his emotions in check in order to help her. "Small breaths. Take small breaths, Sara. Just listen to my voice. Just listen to my voice and take small breaths. You're doing fine, Sara."
"Grissom? Are you real? You're not in my head?" she gasped.
"I'm here, Sara. Just continue taking small breaths, all right? I'm here for you. Is it your ribs or your chest?"
"Both," she sighed. "The drug helps with the pain, but it still hurts," she admitted as her focus on Grissom sharpened a bit.
He noticed her breathing was a little easier and sighed in relief. "You're doing fine, Sara. Just keep taking small breaths. Do you know where you are?" he ventured again.
"We're still here, aren't we?"
"I'm afraid so. How do you feel?"
She gazed up into Grissom's eyes, then focused downward. "Fine."
"Fine, huh? I'm glad to hear it, Sara. Just keep taking shallow breaths, ok?"
"I like your blue jeans."
"I'm beginning to sense that," he grinned.
"You should wear them more often."
"I might."
"Good," she sighed and started to close her eyes. "You look kinda rugged."
"Wake up, Sara. C'mon, don't make me hurt you again."
"You wouldn't," she sighed.
"Yes, I would," he said evenly. "If it means keeping you with me, I'll continue to hurt you."
"If I stay awake will you wear jeans more often?"
"I'll wear jeans every day for the rest of my life if you stay awake."
"I'm awake, Grissom, but I hurt."
"I know you do." He brushed the hair back from her face and then cradled her head. "I know you hurt. If I could take the pain away I would. I swear I would."
TBC
*********************
In the SWAT communications van, Catherine and Brass had their usual seats, with Warrick and Nick standing behind them. The call was on its fifth ring before it was answered.
"Is this, Brass?" Charlie Dunn's voice came across the speaker.
"Yeah, Charlie. Tell me how things are going for you."
"Where's my car and the money?"
"Good news, Charlie. The car will be here in under an hour."
"And the cash? I need cash. I told you I wanted cash, man."
"It'll be in the car. Twenty thousand," Brass said evenly.
"No. I'll need more.
"It's a lot of money, Charlie. I went to bat for you. Twenty thousand dollars will go a long way."
"I want more."
Brass shook his head in frustration. "How long are you willing to wait? You want more? Well that's gonna take cutting through more red tape. I can have the car and the twenty-k ready to go within the hour, Charlie. You're a smart guy. Take it while you can."
"It better be in tens and twenties, asshole? Nothing bigger. Ya got it?"
"Absolutely, Charlie." Brass took a deep breath and then plunged ahead. "How are CSI's Grissom and Sidle?"
"They're good. What kind of car you got me for me?"
"Charlie, we're holding up our end of the bargain. I need to speak with Gil Grissom."
"I said he's good, man. Don't you fuckin' trust me?"
"Yeah, well, if I can't talk to him, Charlie, all bets are off. We go back to square one."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dunn's voice rose. Several seconds passed with virtually no sound over the speaker. Catherine clenched her fist while starring at the console. Warrick's hand fell to Catherine's shoulder as Brass attempted to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn't altogether successful.
"Brass, It's Grissom."
"How are you, Gil?"
"I'm tired. Otherwise ok. Just sitting here sharing the phone with Charlie."
"Understood. How's Sara doing?"
The slight sigh could be heard over the speaker. "Sara needs medical attention. And as soon as possible," Grissom's voice was steady, but he couldn't keep the emotion from coming across.
Brass rubbed his chin. "Charlie, I know you're listening. Will you let us help her?"
"She's cool, motherfucker! I think I said they're both good. Grissom just wants his girlfriend outta here. You need to worry about getting' my car and money out here, Brass."
"The car will be there, don't worry. Just remember, Charlie, if Grissom and Sidle don't walk out with you, then you can kiss your deal goodbye."
"Oh, they'll walk out just fine, Brass. You call me when my ride's ready."
"Charlie, let me speak with Sara Sidle."
"Don't fuck with me, man. You'll get 'em both when I drop them outside of town. 'Course, nobody better follow me. Got it?"
The call was disconnected.
"Damnitt," Brass muttered.
"Sounds to me like Sara is pretty bad," Nick stated in an unusually low voice.
"I'm with you, man," Warrick sighed.
"Catherine spun in her chair and addressed the team. "Yeah, I agree. Sara's hurt, probably bad. I caught the inflection in Gil's voice." She looked at Brass.
"What?" he shrugged. "I agree with everything just said. Not much any of us can do about it right now," he frowned and rubbed his face. "I hate this."
"What're you going to tell Martinez?" Catherine sighed.
"He's got the tapes, Cath. I don't know. He'll probably call off negotiations."
"No, he can't," Warrick stated.
"Yeah, Warrick, he can," Catherine answered, rolling her head back in a semi-circle.
"Ok, Cath, you're overdue for that nap," Brass stated and started to stand.
Warrick put his arm around Catherine and guided her toward the door. "I'll make sure she gets there."
"That's very big of you, Warrick," Brass said dryly as he returned to his seat.
Nick glanced at Brass, but couldn't even begin to read the blank slate that his face became.
******************************
Charlie gave a snarling smile to Grissom. "Your cop friend is a fucking prick. He's trying to screw me up. Ain't gonna happen."
Grissom had focused on Sara when Charlie grabbed the phone from his hand. She was covered in a light coating of perspiration and he wiped his fingers gently across her forehead. She was breathing, but she was so still. Unmoving. His mind raced with thoughts he wished to speak. 'Please, wake up. Please, just wake up and smile at me, Sara. You're scaring me. Please? I'm so sorry for all of this. You're scaring me. This is my fault. If you give up I don't want to live. Fight, Sara. Please fight. I'm still holding you. You're scaring me so much. I love you. You're still breathing. Please fight. Please, Sara?'
"Wake her ass up," Charlie growled.
"I'm trying," Grissom replied, barely containing his anger.
"Try harder, dipshit. I need her up and walking in less than an hour."
Grissom was incredulous. "Just how in the hell do you expect Sara to walk out of here? She's unconscious."
"That's your problem, Grissom. Wake her ass up! She likes you, man. Why, I don't fuckin' know. Get her ass awake!"
"I'm trying, Dunn." Grissom replied as he rubbed Sara's cheek.
"Try harder. Trust me, motheufcker, if you don't wake her, I will. And, my methods might be kinda harsh."
Ignoring Charlie, Grissom grasped Sara's face with his bound hands. "Sara? Wake up. You need to wake up for me." Getting no reaction, he moved his hands to just below her collarbone and ground two knuckles on his right hand into her flesh. He knew it was a technique used by doctors to rouse unresponsive patients. Sara groaned and tried to twist her body away. Grissom released a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Good, Sara. Come on, honey, open your eyes. It's me, Grissom."
He was rewarded as her eyelids parted slowly.
"Very good. Come on. Can you say something for me?"
"Leave me alone, Grissom. Turn off the damn light and go back to sleep," Sara managed.
"Good. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but good," Grissom could feel the blush creeping up his neck and could hear Charlie's snicker from across the room.
"Stay awake for me, Sara. Do you remember where you are?"
"It's my dream, Griss. You don't get to ask questions. You just get to take your clothes off," she giggled.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Grissom was by turn, embarrassed and thrilled. She dreamed about him. Well, he reasoned, it was under the influence, but she dreamed about him. If her previous ramblings were any indication he might even have a place in her heart. God, he hoped so. Grissom felt guilt wash over him at thinking such thoughts while they were both stuck in this hellhole. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he rubbed Sara's arm briskly, determined to keep her conscious. He cast a quick look in Charlie's direction and was more than happy to see him occupied with packing his various drugs and paraphernalia into a knapsack.
"Come on, Sara, where are you?"
"Nope. My dream. No questions," she smiled.
"What if I want to ask questions?"
"Save 'em for your own dreams," she giggled again. "If you even dream, Grissom."
"I dream, Sara," he replied softly, not even attempting to cover the hurt in his tone.
"Bugs don't count," she countered and tried to move away from the almost painful rubbing of her arm. "Stop it, Griss. I don't like this dream. That hurts."
"It's supposed to. I'm trying to keep you conscious."
I'm serious dammit, just stop. I've had it with you hurting me," she slurred and tried to push herself away from him. "Never telling me what you mean. Never meaning what you tell me."
He fought Sara gently, trying to keep her from doing further damage to her battered body.
Stopping suddenly, Sara gasped and struggled to take a breath.
Grissom relaxed his hands on her. "Sara, what's wrong? Sara?"
"Hurts."
Grissom leaned closer to her ear and tried to keep his emotions in check in order to help her. "Small breaths. Take small breaths, Sara. Just listen to my voice. Just listen to my voice and take small breaths. You're doing fine, Sara."
"Grissom? Are you real? You're not in my head?" she gasped.
"I'm here, Sara. Just continue taking small breaths, all right? I'm here for you. Is it your ribs or your chest?"
"Both," she sighed. "The drug helps with the pain, but it still hurts," she admitted as her focus on Grissom sharpened a bit.
He noticed her breathing was a little easier and sighed in relief. "You're doing fine, Sara. Just keep taking small breaths. Do you know where you are?" he ventured again.
"We're still here, aren't we?"
"I'm afraid so. How do you feel?"
She gazed up into Grissom's eyes, then focused downward. "Fine."
"Fine, huh? I'm glad to hear it, Sara. Just keep taking shallow breaths, ok?"
"I like your blue jeans."
"I'm beginning to sense that," he grinned.
"You should wear them more often."
"I might."
"Good," she sighed and started to close her eyes. "You look kinda rugged."
"Wake up, Sara. C'mon, don't make me hurt you again."
"You wouldn't," she sighed.
"Yes, I would," he said evenly. "If it means keeping you with me, I'll continue to hurt you."
"If I stay awake will you wear jeans more often?"
"I'll wear jeans every day for the rest of my life if you stay awake."
"I'm awake, Grissom, but I hurt."
"I know you do." He brushed the hair back from her face and then cradled her head. "I know you hurt. If I could take the pain away I would. I swear I would."
TBC