Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters; they are the property of the creators, producers of CSI. Please don't sue me, I'm just a student.
"Where did you get this?" Grissom questioned the deliveryman.
"I don't know, it was sent over, and I was told to come here," he explained. It was clear that the young deliveryman was scared and confused. Grissom motioned for him to leave, and he did so, running out of the room, almost slamming into the doorframe.
'Breathe Gil, breath,' he assured himself.
"Greg, take this shirt to the lab. Warrick, Ni-" Grissom ordered, but realized that Nick was no longer in the room.
"Drive out to the scene, I'll call Brass to ask for a cross-jurisdiction investigation," Grissom barked.
"Catherine, stay here with Greg, instead someone calls. Stay on standby; I might have to call you out to the scene." Catherine nodded, and knew better than to argue with the desperate and worried man opposite her.
Nick was in the washroom; the sight of blood, and the image of Sara hurt was too much for him. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Damn it," he screamed. Kicking in the washroom stall.
"Sara, where are you?" He whispered. But quickly leaned over the toilet and threw up.
"Are you ok?" A voice called out. Warrick's figure immerged from the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Rising, he wiped the wetness on his cheeks with his other hand.
Warrick stood there, wanting to say something, but he knew that this was not the time.
"We have to go," he finally said. "Grissom wants us out to the car," he continued.
Nick nodded.
Not a word was said, 15 minutes had passed, and the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas was left behind. Now, only the cars that passed made a noise.
"What happened in Anaheim," Warrick finally questioned.
Nick didn't respond, but just looked ahead. Determined, concentrated, deep in thought.
"She hated the game," Nick finally responded.
"But she watched it; she sat there, sipping her water. You knew she wasn't having any fun," he half-smiled. Tears building beneath his eyes.
"And like Sara, she caused a scene," Nick continued. Tears were on their way.
"A scene?" Warrick questioned, curiosity peaked.
"Her friend Mark got them the tickets. And she ranted on about how much she hated the game," Nick scoffed. The dam had collapsed, tears slowly fell.
"Oh God," Nick slammed his fist on the dashboard.
"Why did I have to be such a jerk," he questioned himself.
Warrick sat there, absorbing the story that Nick narrated. He could see the pain in Nick's eyes. He knew that Nick cared for Sara, but hadn't realized how much. Speechless, all he did was drive.
The rest of the way, Nick stared into the distance, thinking deeply about Sara, the game, and practically the past couple of years. He looked on as he spotted a parked black Tahoe looming in the distance. He inhaled.
The car was on the side of the road. It wasn't a wreck, it was just abandoned. Warrick and Nick stepped out of the car, both handling their kits.
"Were you the officer who found the car?" Warrick questioned, as Nick quickly approached the driver's side of the Tahoe.
"Yeah, I called it in as soon as I saw the LVPD sticker on the front windshield. That was about an hour ago. There was nobody in the jeep and the tank is still full," the officer explained. Adjusting his hat and taking off his Top Gun inspired sunglasses.
"And nobody has touched this car since then?" Warrick continued to question.
"Nobody, but I did touch the door," the man explained.
"All right, thank you for doing your job," Warrick responded. As he turned and walked towards when Nick stood.
"No blood," Nick called out.
"Let's turn this truck inside-out," Warrick ordered.
They searched the Tahoe, top to bottom, inch by inch.
"Find anything?" Warrick questioned.
"Just a couple of prints; I'll run them through the databases when we get back to lab," Nick replied.
"Did Sara have her camera?" Warrick wondered.
"I'm not sure; but her friend had one," Nick answered, accessing his short-term memory.
"I'll bag it," Warrick exhaled.
A phone rang, Warrick and Nick quickly took out their phones, but it wasn't theirs. Both CSIs looked at each other, then quickly rummaged through the seats.
"Hello," Nick finally answered. The phone was wedged between the two backseats.
"Hi Nicky," the voice replied. It was a woman's voice, it wasn't cold, it was warm, Southern.
"Who is this," Nick questioned, waving Warrick to listen in.
"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, don't you remember me? After all those years with the Owls," she questioned.
"No, no I don't," Nick responded.
"Gee, I hope you didn't forget about Sara," she continued. Nick gasped, his chest tightened.
"Sara?" Nick questioned. Upon those words, Warrick's eyes focused and listened intently to the woman's voice.
"I'm not going to say anything. Not until you remember who I am," the woman laughed.
"If you ever hurt Sara-" Nick screamed into the phone.
"Nick! Help me-" a voice screamed.
"Sara!" Nick cried out.
"Wait for my next call. And you better remember who I am," said the voice. The line went dead.
"Damn!" Nick screamed.
"I'll call Brass and Grissom," Warrick responded.
Nick sat on the curb, trying to recall his past. He was out of focus, his head hurt and it rambled. 'Sara, Sara, Sara.' He rubbed his hand against his face. 'Was this about me?' He questioned himself. 'The Owls?' His mind raced, struggling to focus on the conversation he just had. He could hear Warrick talking to Grissom and finally to Brass, they were probably on their way. But he didn't care, all he cared about was Sara's desperate and frighted voice.'This isn't happening.'
He looked at Nick, watching him sit silently on the curb. He walked up to him slowly, and tapped Nick's shoulder. 'He was hit, bad' he thought. 'This is really eating him alive." He looked at his colleague's expression.
"Grissom, Catherine, and Brass want us back to the lab, we just have to wait for the truck to take the Tahoe back to the lab," Warrick explained. But Nick didn't respond. He just sat there.
A/N - I don't know if any of you like what I've done with the first couple of chapters, but if you do...please give me some feedback. Suggestions regarding what you want would be awesome as well. Should I focus more on a G/S or N/S (I personally like N/S pairing) but I'm open to any suggestions. Oh, just wanted to tell you to pay close attention to some facts about the story. (Hint, hint.)
I hope y'all are enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. Again, love it or loathe it, just tell me. I'll be posting the next chapters when I get some feedback. Thanx for reading!
"Where did you get this?" Grissom questioned the deliveryman.
"I don't know, it was sent over, and I was told to come here," he explained. It was clear that the young deliveryman was scared and confused. Grissom motioned for him to leave, and he did so, running out of the room, almost slamming into the doorframe.
'Breathe Gil, breath,' he assured himself.
"Greg, take this shirt to the lab. Warrick, Ni-" Grissom ordered, but realized that Nick was no longer in the room.
"Drive out to the scene, I'll call Brass to ask for a cross-jurisdiction investigation," Grissom barked.
"Catherine, stay here with Greg, instead someone calls. Stay on standby; I might have to call you out to the scene." Catherine nodded, and knew better than to argue with the desperate and worried man opposite her.
Nick was in the washroom; the sight of blood, and the image of Sara hurt was too much for him. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Damn it," he screamed. Kicking in the washroom stall.
"Sara, where are you?" He whispered. But quickly leaned over the toilet and threw up.
"Are you ok?" A voice called out. Warrick's figure immerged from the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Rising, he wiped the wetness on his cheeks with his other hand.
Warrick stood there, wanting to say something, but he knew that this was not the time.
"We have to go," he finally said. "Grissom wants us out to the car," he continued.
Nick nodded.
Not a word was said, 15 minutes had passed, and the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas was left behind. Now, only the cars that passed made a noise.
"What happened in Anaheim," Warrick finally questioned.
Nick didn't respond, but just looked ahead. Determined, concentrated, deep in thought.
"She hated the game," Nick finally responded.
"But she watched it; she sat there, sipping her water. You knew she wasn't having any fun," he half-smiled. Tears building beneath his eyes.
"And like Sara, she caused a scene," Nick continued. Tears were on their way.
"A scene?" Warrick questioned, curiosity peaked.
"Her friend Mark got them the tickets. And she ranted on about how much she hated the game," Nick scoffed. The dam had collapsed, tears slowly fell.
"Oh God," Nick slammed his fist on the dashboard.
"Why did I have to be such a jerk," he questioned himself.
Warrick sat there, absorbing the story that Nick narrated. He could see the pain in Nick's eyes. He knew that Nick cared for Sara, but hadn't realized how much. Speechless, all he did was drive.
The rest of the way, Nick stared into the distance, thinking deeply about Sara, the game, and practically the past couple of years. He looked on as he spotted a parked black Tahoe looming in the distance. He inhaled.
The car was on the side of the road. It wasn't a wreck, it was just abandoned. Warrick and Nick stepped out of the car, both handling their kits.
"Were you the officer who found the car?" Warrick questioned, as Nick quickly approached the driver's side of the Tahoe.
"Yeah, I called it in as soon as I saw the LVPD sticker on the front windshield. That was about an hour ago. There was nobody in the jeep and the tank is still full," the officer explained. Adjusting his hat and taking off his Top Gun inspired sunglasses.
"And nobody has touched this car since then?" Warrick continued to question.
"Nobody, but I did touch the door," the man explained.
"All right, thank you for doing your job," Warrick responded. As he turned and walked towards when Nick stood.
"No blood," Nick called out.
"Let's turn this truck inside-out," Warrick ordered.
They searched the Tahoe, top to bottom, inch by inch.
"Find anything?" Warrick questioned.
"Just a couple of prints; I'll run them through the databases when we get back to lab," Nick replied.
"Did Sara have her camera?" Warrick wondered.
"I'm not sure; but her friend had one," Nick answered, accessing his short-term memory.
"I'll bag it," Warrick exhaled.
A phone rang, Warrick and Nick quickly took out their phones, but it wasn't theirs. Both CSIs looked at each other, then quickly rummaged through the seats.
"Hello," Nick finally answered. The phone was wedged between the two backseats.
"Hi Nicky," the voice replied. It was a woman's voice, it wasn't cold, it was warm, Southern.
"Who is this," Nick questioned, waving Warrick to listen in.
"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, don't you remember me? After all those years with the Owls," she questioned.
"No, no I don't," Nick responded.
"Gee, I hope you didn't forget about Sara," she continued. Nick gasped, his chest tightened.
"Sara?" Nick questioned. Upon those words, Warrick's eyes focused and listened intently to the woman's voice.
"I'm not going to say anything. Not until you remember who I am," the woman laughed.
"If you ever hurt Sara-" Nick screamed into the phone.
"Nick! Help me-" a voice screamed.
"Sara!" Nick cried out.
"Wait for my next call. And you better remember who I am," said the voice. The line went dead.
"Damn!" Nick screamed.
"I'll call Brass and Grissom," Warrick responded.
Nick sat on the curb, trying to recall his past. He was out of focus, his head hurt and it rambled. 'Sara, Sara, Sara.' He rubbed his hand against his face. 'Was this about me?' He questioned himself. 'The Owls?' His mind raced, struggling to focus on the conversation he just had. He could hear Warrick talking to Grissom and finally to Brass, they were probably on their way. But he didn't care, all he cared about was Sara's desperate and frighted voice.'This isn't happening.'
He looked at Nick, watching him sit silently on the curb. He walked up to him slowly, and tapped Nick's shoulder. 'He was hit, bad' he thought. 'This is really eating him alive." He looked at his colleague's expression.
"Grissom, Catherine, and Brass want us back to the lab, we just have to wait for the truck to take the Tahoe back to the lab," Warrick explained. But Nick didn't respond. He just sat there.
A/N - I don't know if any of you like what I've done with the first couple of chapters, but if you do...please give me some feedback. Suggestions regarding what you want would be awesome as well. Should I focus more on a G/S or N/S (I personally like N/S pairing) but I'm open to any suggestions. Oh, just wanted to tell you to pay close attention to some facts about the story. (Hint, hint.)
I hope y'all are enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. Again, love it or loathe it, just tell me. I'll be posting the next chapters when I get some feedback. Thanx for reading!