Thanks for the reviews. I've been really nervous about this chapter. I
didn't want to ruin the fic by messing up a pivotal part of the story. I
don't think I did. Hopefully, you guys will agree. Happy reading.
And really, I am trying to post as quickly as possible. Work has been consuming (as I'm sure it is with everyone), but we'll soon have a few weeks off and I'll be posting a new story. I promise to end this one first and should have the next chapter up within 4-6 days. Again, hope you like it. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
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His whole world had become this room. The hours felt like a lifetime. His lifetime and Sara's lifetime. He tried to focus on the revelations; the feelings finally vocalized. A gnawing in the pit of his stomach overwhelmed all of the good. The fear that one or both of them might not survive grew sharper. Grissom could feel the tension coursing through his body as he reflected. His gaze rested upon Sara and he couldn't begin to fathom what the next few minutes would bring. Her eyes were open, but unfocused and filled with pain. It stabbed at his heart. Grissom turned away and purposely tried to detach himself from her suffering in order to concentrate on his plan. He was only partially successful, as he couldn't seem to block out the rasping sound of Sara's shallow breathing. It echoed in his head and he subconsciously gave thanks every time it did. It meant she was still alive.
Dunn was nervous as he toyed with his knapsack. Grissom could sense hesitation in the man's actions. He seemed to be stalling, reluctant to journey beyond the apartment to the waiting car. Grissom wondered briefly that maybe Dunn was a little smarter than what he'd thought, but then the science spoke to him. Even the most basic life forms have an innate urge driving them toward survival and away from destruction.
Time was something that became more and more valuable to the two hostages as each second passed and Grissom used Charlie's distraction to his advantage. He began to work his wrists free from the duct tape. It was a fairly easy process given that he had been stretching and twisting the tape for the better part of the past three hours. Barely a minute later, he had full use of his hands, but cautiously shielded them behind his drawn-up knees. Grissom leaned slightly toward Sara and unscrewed the cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Quickly, he stuffed one end of the handkerchief into the liquid and was relieved when he felt the alcohol slowly seep into the top of the cloth. He pulled the bottle into his lap and turned his attention to the other side of the room.
Dunn placed a new syringe and a glass vial of Methamphetamine on the table and zipped his knapsack. Grissom eyed him warily as he proceeded to fill the hypodermic with the stimulant. The CSI noted that his actions were still unsure and protracted despite the ever-present sneer.
"Looks like she needs this after all," Charlie said flatly. Grissom's heartbeat quickened as he watched Dunn toss the empty vial into the corner.
"Little speed, ya know," Charlie taunted. "Actually, a lot a speed," he laughed in a show of bravado.
"You can't be serious, Dunn. In her condition, it'll be lethal." Grissom's voice wavered slightly as the muscles in his neck tensed.
"Na, but it sure will get her ass off the floor."
Grissom's mouth opened, but the words wouldn't come. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and his mind raced, but no words would come. He re- wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the disposable lighter and brought it closer to the handerchief extending from the bottle. Grissom felt his hands shaking and drew his knees even closer to his body to still them as best he could. Dunn was now crossing the room toward the CSI's. Briefly, time seemed to stand still for Grissom. He glanced quickly to his left and took in the sight of Sara's tortured features and couldn't help but think it may be the last time he saw her. He swiveled his head back toward Charlie and time caught up to him. Dunn was within ten feet of them. Grissom's thumb was becoming raw from resting so heavily on the lighters sparking mechanism. The dull throbbing of his head kept him focused as he leveled his eyes on the man in front of him and forced himself to think of nothing but the obstacle to overcome. Grissom's focus narrowed even further as he tried to spare the woman that had opened his world.
"Stay the fuck away from her. I said you could take me." The words rang out crisply and coldly, and seemed to resonate off the walls. Charlie stopped and stared curiously at the CSI.
"You tryin' to make a brave stand or somethin', dipwad?"
"No, I'm simply giving you one last chance."
Charlie laughed somewhat nervously as he cocked his head slightly but didn't move forward. "That's real funny, Gilbert. I didn't know you was so damned funny."
"Take the offer, Dunn. You leave Sara here so she can be helped and I walk out with you."
"You're even dumber than your cop friend. I ain't blowin' my chances now. They wanna see her. You think I don't know that?" Charlie lowered his voice in a bizarre attempt to match the calm menace of Grissom's tone.
"I suggest you take my offer. I'm not giving you time, just a quick choice."
Charlie Dunn's lower lip twitched and he appeared totally confused by the CSI's behavior. He started to step forward.
"Don't do it," Grissom warned. "Stay away from Sara. Take the offer."
The frustration and redness crept up Dunn's face as he again stopped to address Grissom. "Shut the fuck up, Gilbert! You ain't in charge here! I am! Got it? I am!" He brandished the .38 wildly in Grissom's direction.
"No, Charlie. You're not in charge anymore. I am."
"Motherfucker!" he screamed and started toward Grissom.
"Have it your way. I gave you an out," Grissom said as he flicked the lighter underneath the handkerchief. The flame ate its way up the cloth. Dunn froze; momentarily stunned by the fire that seemed to come from nowhere. Grissom threw the flaming bottle at Charlie and dove to his right. If the gun was fired he wanted it to be as far away from Sara as possible.
Dunn didn't have time to avoid the object and it glanced off his arm and mid-section before falling atop a pile of newspapers and garbage on the floor. The brief contact sent wisps of flames up his sleeve and chest. He felt the heat as the flame played along his arm, but the contact was not enough to do more than singe him. Nonetheless, Charlie shook violently at the sensation even as he tried to point the gun at Grissom.
The papers and trash on the floor provided a perfect home for the burning projectile. The top few newspapers ignited quickly.
Grissom tried to find his footing. His legs were unsteady and painful as he started toward a disoriented Dunn. Grissom had seen the syringe drop as the bottle hit it's target, but he knew Charlie still held the revolver. He felt his legs giving out as he threw himself at Dunn. The men fell to the floor in a tangled heap. Grissom desperately sought to disarm him as Charlie struggled to nose the revolver against his chest. Grissom felt his heart skip a beat as their momentum carried them to the left and into the pile of burning newspapers. The fire licked at their skin and Dunn discharged the revolver. The sound was muffled due to its proximity to their bodies and the surrounding garbage.
Grissom felt heat sear his collarbone as he saw the right side of Dunn's shirt ignite and burn up the side. Charlie was thrashing frantically but still held the gun. Grissom moved quickly, trying to disarm him. He pummeled Dunn's face with blows until his body went limp and the gun dropped. Grissom placed the .38 in his waistband and then tried to smother the flames that were engulfing Dunn's shirt. He stopped as the heat in his neck intensified. It was burning and the pain was intense. His hand tried to slap flames away, but he felt only wetness. Shocked, he looked at his palm. It was coated with blood. He'd heard the muffled shot. Recognition swept over him and gently he brought his hand back to his neck. The bullet had grazed a deep trough along the top of his collarbone. Grissom could now feel the blood running down his chest and he pressed the sleeve of his sweatshirt against the wound. He thought for a second that the pain might cause him to vomit.
Grissom tried to collect himself. What was he doing? Getting them out. Sara? He had to get Sara out of the apartment. He spun around to where she'd been sitting and was shocked to find her no longer there. He did find a large bullet hole in the wall. A bullet hole? Grissom was slightly amazed at how slowly his brain seemed to be processing information. Smoke was quickly filling the room, making it harder to see and breathe. Breathe. Breathe? Where was Sara? He knew he wasn't thinking clearly.
"Sara?" He turned toward the kitchen area and saw her form slumped beside the table. The opened cell phone was clutched in her outstretched hand.
"Sara! Grissom knelt beside her, frantically searching her head and upper body for the sign of a bullet wound. "Were you hit?" Getting no answer and finding no indication that she's been struck he looked more closely at her face. She was completely unresponsive. He grabbed the cell phone and put it to his ear as his eyes never left her face. The line was open, but he couldn't hear anyone. His free hand prodded Sara's neck for a pulse. "Is anyone on this line? This is CSI Grissom. Dunn has been disarmed. I'm coming out with Sara Sidle. Dunn has been disarmed. Getting no response he dropped the phone and prepared to pick-up Sara.
Suddenly, the front door of the apartment was splintered into a thousand pieces.
TBC
And really, I am trying to post as quickly as possible. Work has been consuming (as I'm sure it is with everyone), but we'll soon have a few weeks off and I'll be posting a new story. I promise to end this one first and should have the next chapter up within 4-6 days. Again, hope you like it. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
******************************
His whole world had become this room. The hours felt like a lifetime. His lifetime and Sara's lifetime. He tried to focus on the revelations; the feelings finally vocalized. A gnawing in the pit of his stomach overwhelmed all of the good. The fear that one or both of them might not survive grew sharper. Grissom could feel the tension coursing through his body as he reflected. His gaze rested upon Sara and he couldn't begin to fathom what the next few minutes would bring. Her eyes were open, but unfocused and filled with pain. It stabbed at his heart. Grissom turned away and purposely tried to detach himself from her suffering in order to concentrate on his plan. He was only partially successful, as he couldn't seem to block out the rasping sound of Sara's shallow breathing. It echoed in his head and he subconsciously gave thanks every time it did. It meant she was still alive.
Dunn was nervous as he toyed with his knapsack. Grissom could sense hesitation in the man's actions. He seemed to be stalling, reluctant to journey beyond the apartment to the waiting car. Grissom wondered briefly that maybe Dunn was a little smarter than what he'd thought, but then the science spoke to him. Even the most basic life forms have an innate urge driving them toward survival and away from destruction.
Time was something that became more and more valuable to the two hostages as each second passed and Grissom used Charlie's distraction to his advantage. He began to work his wrists free from the duct tape. It was a fairly easy process given that he had been stretching and twisting the tape for the better part of the past three hours. Barely a minute later, he had full use of his hands, but cautiously shielded them behind his drawn-up knees. Grissom leaned slightly toward Sara and unscrewed the cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Quickly, he stuffed one end of the handkerchief into the liquid and was relieved when he felt the alcohol slowly seep into the top of the cloth. He pulled the bottle into his lap and turned his attention to the other side of the room.
Dunn placed a new syringe and a glass vial of Methamphetamine on the table and zipped his knapsack. Grissom eyed him warily as he proceeded to fill the hypodermic with the stimulant. The CSI noted that his actions were still unsure and protracted despite the ever-present sneer.
"Looks like she needs this after all," Charlie said flatly. Grissom's heartbeat quickened as he watched Dunn toss the empty vial into the corner.
"Little speed, ya know," Charlie taunted. "Actually, a lot a speed," he laughed in a show of bravado.
"You can't be serious, Dunn. In her condition, it'll be lethal." Grissom's voice wavered slightly as the muscles in his neck tensed.
"Na, but it sure will get her ass off the floor."
Grissom's mouth opened, but the words wouldn't come. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and his mind raced, but no words would come. He re- wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the disposable lighter and brought it closer to the handerchief extending from the bottle. Grissom felt his hands shaking and drew his knees even closer to his body to still them as best he could. Dunn was now crossing the room toward the CSI's. Briefly, time seemed to stand still for Grissom. He glanced quickly to his left and took in the sight of Sara's tortured features and couldn't help but think it may be the last time he saw her. He swiveled his head back toward Charlie and time caught up to him. Dunn was within ten feet of them. Grissom's thumb was becoming raw from resting so heavily on the lighters sparking mechanism. The dull throbbing of his head kept him focused as he leveled his eyes on the man in front of him and forced himself to think of nothing but the obstacle to overcome. Grissom's focus narrowed even further as he tried to spare the woman that had opened his world.
"Stay the fuck away from her. I said you could take me." The words rang out crisply and coldly, and seemed to resonate off the walls. Charlie stopped and stared curiously at the CSI.
"You tryin' to make a brave stand or somethin', dipwad?"
"No, I'm simply giving you one last chance."
Charlie laughed somewhat nervously as he cocked his head slightly but didn't move forward. "That's real funny, Gilbert. I didn't know you was so damned funny."
"Take the offer, Dunn. You leave Sara here so she can be helped and I walk out with you."
"You're even dumber than your cop friend. I ain't blowin' my chances now. They wanna see her. You think I don't know that?" Charlie lowered his voice in a bizarre attempt to match the calm menace of Grissom's tone.
"I suggest you take my offer. I'm not giving you time, just a quick choice."
Charlie Dunn's lower lip twitched and he appeared totally confused by the CSI's behavior. He started to step forward.
"Don't do it," Grissom warned. "Stay away from Sara. Take the offer."
The frustration and redness crept up Dunn's face as he again stopped to address Grissom. "Shut the fuck up, Gilbert! You ain't in charge here! I am! Got it? I am!" He brandished the .38 wildly in Grissom's direction.
"No, Charlie. You're not in charge anymore. I am."
"Motherfucker!" he screamed and started toward Grissom.
"Have it your way. I gave you an out," Grissom said as he flicked the lighter underneath the handkerchief. The flame ate its way up the cloth. Dunn froze; momentarily stunned by the fire that seemed to come from nowhere. Grissom threw the flaming bottle at Charlie and dove to his right. If the gun was fired he wanted it to be as far away from Sara as possible.
Dunn didn't have time to avoid the object and it glanced off his arm and mid-section before falling atop a pile of newspapers and garbage on the floor. The brief contact sent wisps of flames up his sleeve and chest. He felt the heat as the flame played along his arm, but the contact was not enough to do more than singe him. Nonetheless, Charlie shook violently at the sensation even as he tried to point the gun at Grissom.
The papers and trash on the floor provided a perfect home for the burning projectile. The top few newspapers ignited quickly.
Grissom tried to find his footing. His legs were unsteady and painful as he started toward a disoriented Dunn. Grissom had seen the syringe drop as the bottle hit it's target, but he knew Charlie still held the revolver. He felt his legs giving out as he threw himself at Dunn. The men fell to the floor in a tangled heap. Grissom desperately sought to disarm him as Charlie struggled to nose the revolver against his chest. Grissom felt his heart skip a beat as their momentum carried them to the left and into the pile of burning newspapers. The fire licked at their skin and Dunn discharged the revolver. The sound was muffled due to its proximity to their bodies and the surrounding garbage.
Grissom felt heat sear his collarbone as he saw the right side of Dunn's shirt ignite and burn up the side. Charlie was thrashing frantically but still held the gun. Grissom moved quickly, trying to disarm him. He pummeled Dunn's face with blows until his body went limp and the gun dropped. Grissom placed the .38 in his waistband and then tried to smother the flames that were engulfing Dunn's shirt. He stopped as the heat in his neck intensified. It was burning and the pain was intense. His hand tried to slap flames away, but he felt only wetness. Shocked, he looked at his palm. It was coated with blood. He'd heard the muffled shot. Recognition swept over him and gently he brought his hand back to his neck. The bullet had grazed a deep trough along the top of his collarbone. Grissom could now feel the blood running down his chest and he pressed the sleeve of his sweatshirt against the wound. He thought for a second that the pain might cause him to vomit.
Grissom tried to collect himself. What was he doing? Getting them out. Sara? He had to get Sara out of the apartment. He spun around to where she'd been sitting and was shocked to find her no longer there. He did find a large bullet hole in the wall. A bullet hole? Grissom was slightly amazed at how slowly his brain seemed to be processing information. Smoke was quickly filling the room, making it harder to see and breathe. Breathe. Breathe? Where was Sara? He knew he wasn't thinking clearly.
"Sara?" He turned toward the kitchen area and saw her form slumped beside the table. The opened cell phone was clutched in her outstretched hand.
"Sara! Grissom knelt beside her, frantically searching her head and upper body for the sign of a bullet wound. "Were you hit?" Getting no answer and finding no indication that she's been struck he looked more closely at her face. She was completely unresponsive. He grabbed the cell phone and put it to his ear as his eyes never left her face. The line was open, but he couldn't hear anyone. His free hand prodded Sara's neck for a pulse. "Is anyone on this line? This is CSI Grissom. Dunn has been disarmed. I'm coming out with Sara Sidle. Dunn has been disarmed. Getting no response he dropped the phone and prepared to pick-up Sara.
Suddenly, the front door of the apartment was splintered into a thousand pieces.
TBC