Title: "The Plunge"
Author: 'Grissom'
5-4-04
A/N: As always, a very special thanks to Grissomgal71 for her fantastic beta job! And in case you didn't know, I don't own CSI or anything related to them, besides DVD's, CD's, comic books, novels, cards, games...Anyway! I don't own it. Though I can think of one CSI I'd like to own...And yes, Jamie, I'd share with you! sighs
Brass frowned as he watched the cadets walking around the small area of land. Their killer, Ryan Murdock or "The Pool Strangler", had told the police detective that he'd put the body of his latest victim into a hole in this area. The police had been searching for about an hour, but showed no signs of recovering the missing girl.
At the moment, they were searching a small, wooded area next to Lake Mead. The superior officers stood on a bare patch of land, mere feet from a small cliff that dropped off into the lake below. The CSI's stood in the back, closest to the edge, with Murdock and his chaperones in the middle and Brass up front. Murdock claimed that he'd buried the body under a tree, but couldn't remember which one.
Brass turned to study Murdock for a moment. The prisoner, still garbed in an orange monkey suit with cuffs, stood silently between two cops, staring straight ahead. He made no noise, not even to reply to Brass' questions or threats. He simply stared off into the distance.
Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle of the Crime Lab stood nearby, overseeing the search. Nick Stokes was also there, though he was walking around with a cadet at the moment. He claimed to be double-checking her search area, but Sara suspected that he was double-checking something else. She just hoped he would drop the act and ask for her number before the day was up.
It was Sara and Grissom who had finally tracked down Murdock and linked him to at least five killings in the Vegas area. With his final victim, a nineteen-year-old college sophomore, he'd made the mistake of touching her doorknob without gloves. The CSI's had collected the prints and run them through AFIS, matching them to Murdock. He'd been arrested years before on an assault and battery charge, so he matched their profile of a young, violent man. He had earned his nickname "The Pool Strangler" from the press, who named him for the places where he found his victims. It was always a public pool, where he would convince his victims to come with him, and as soon as they were in a secluded area, strangle them with a cord.
Brass studied the two CSI's behind him for a moment. Though they stood side-by-side, there was still a good bit of distance between them. It was almost as if they were afraid to get too close; for what reason, Brass didn't know. Things between Grissom and Sara seemed very tense, and he wasn't sure how they had managed to make it through the case without one of them blowing up.
At that moment, Grissom turned and said something to Sara. She replied curtly, her voice flat. Poor guy, Brass thought, thinking of Grissom. I'd hate to be on her bad side.
A young police officer stepped up to Brass. "There's nothing, sir. We've checked this area at least four times. Pulled out all of the heavy equipment, too. If there's a body buried here, it must be pretty deep."
"And buried without disturbing the dirt, too," Nick added, stepping up by Brass. Judging by the small grin on the Texan's face, Sara concluded that he'd gotten his phone number. He shook his head at Brass.
Getting the news from one of the CSI's was evidently all Brass needed to be convinced. Turning slowly, he fixed his gaze on the still-silent Murdock. "Well, Ryan. Where is she?"
No answer. His temper beginning to flare, Brass stepped up to Murdock, getting mere inches from the man's face. "Where is she?" he repeated, speaking slowly. Still no answer. Brass sighed. "Listen, pal. Either you tell us where she is and make it easier on yourself, or we'll have to find her ourselves. And let me tell you, if we have to do it ourselves, no judge is going to want to help you. You'll get the needle for sure."
Murdock still didn't answer, but his eyes did shift to the police captain. They stared at each other for a moment, each seeming to dare the other to look away first. Finally, Brass snorted in disgust and turned to face the cadets.
"All right, guys. Let's wrap it up. Do one more walk-through of your area, then that's it. There's nothing here." He glanced back at Murdock. "Get him outta here."
The perp's police escorts nodded, then each reached to grasp one of Murdock's arms. At that moment, Murdock ducked and spun, slamming his elbow into one of the cop's stomach. The man doubled over, the air knocked from his lungs. Seeing that he had no chance of escape, Murdock decided that if he was going to perish, he would take one of Las Vegas' finest with him.
He broke into a sprint towards the edge of the cliff, and straight for the two CSI's. Before Sara even saw him coming, Murdock had tackled her, sending both of them tumbling over the edge.
"Sara!" Grissom shouted, seeing her disappear over the edge of the cliff. His cry, and the shouts from the escorts, told Brass that something was very wrong. Running faster than Brass ever thought he could, he rushed to the edge of the cliff, just in time to see the splash as Sara and Murdock hit the water.
"Shit!" Brass turned to some senior officers. "Get on the radio and call for backup! Tell them we have an officer down and a hostage situation! Suspect and hostage are in the water!"
Movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and he turned in time to see Grissom as he leapt off the cliff. Brass made a vain grab at the supervisor, but it was far too late. "Gil!" he shouted, wondering if Grissom had finally lost his mind.
He saw Nick Stokes rushing towards the edge, but reached out an arm to grab the younger CSI before he could even think of jumping. Nick stared at the water for a moment, then turned and ran into the woods.
For Grissom, time seemed to slow. He saw the water rushing up beneath him, and could still vaguely see the forms of Sara and her captor beneath the waves. He hit the water feet-first, and the shock of the cold nearly took his breath away. His first instinct was to break the surface and swim to shore, but he knew that Sara was still down there, sinking faster every second.
He kicked his feet, heading down towards the bottom of the lake, unsure of how deep it was going to get. He didn't think it would get too deep, being so near the shore, but one never knew. He made his way down as fast as he could, but it seemed to take forever before he saw the dark form of Sara through the water.
Murdock had sunk to the bottom and was holding Sara under by her leg. She was kicking and fighting to get loose, but Murdock held tight. It was obvious to Grissom that both Sara and Murdock were running out of air. As he approached, he saw Sara stop fighting, floating limply in the water.
Acting before Murdock even saw him, Grissom grasped his arm and pulled it away from Sara. He gathered Sara awkwardly into his arms, then kicked off the bottom to head for the surface. He made it a short ways before being jerked to a sudden stop. Spots dancing before his own eyes, Grissom looked down to see that Murdock was now hanging onto his foot.
He tried to kick his foot free of the killer's grasp, but it was no use; Murdock's grip was too tight. The CSI glanced towards the surface, hoping that someone was coming, but there was nothing there except the distance light of the sun.
Sharp pain suddenly shot through his leg, and for a moment he lost his grip on Sara as his vision went black. He fought against the pain and unconsciousness, reaching to grab Sara again before she drifted back down to the bottom. Grissom looked down at Murdock, seeing that the man, with incredible strength, had twisted Grissom's ankle until something snapped. Murdock stared up at him for a moment, the small smile on his face even as he released his grip and sank to the bottom, his eyes empty.
Trying in vain to ignore the pain, Grissom kicked towards the surface, Sara in his arms. His left foot now proved useless, still sending sharp waves of pain through his body, but he somehow managed to make it to the surface before the darkness claimed him.
He sucked in a lungful of air, thinking that nothing had ever felt so good. He heard a cough near his ear and turned to see Sara spitting out mouthfuls of water. She was gasping for air and limp in his arms, but alive nonetheless. He let out a sigh in relief, silently thanking the heavens that she was breathing.
Resituating his hold on Sara, Grissom kicked his way to shore, where he could see a small crowd of people along with an ambulance. He gritted his teeth against the pain, every kick and stroke he made only intensifying it.
When he was a little more than twenty feet from the shore, he saw one man break through the crowd and run into the water. It was Nick. He rushed out into the water, reaching Grissom and Sara just as it was approaching his shoulders. He stepped up next to Grissom, taking half of Sara's weight.
The two CSI's carried Sara closer to the shore. When the water was only up to their waists, Brass broke out of the crowd as well and floundered into the water to help. He lifted up Sara, then turned and fought his way back to shore, where a newly-arrived ambulance was waiting. Nick threw an arm around Grissom's shoulder, half-carrying the exhausted man out of the water.
They finally reached the sand, but the absence of the water put more weight on Grissom's ankle and he collapsed, falling to his hands and knees. Nick almost went down with him, but managed to steady himself, only to kneel down next to Grissom.
"Gris? What is it?"
Grissom looked up at him, his chest heaving and feeling as though someone rather large were sitting on him. Then he grimaced and rolled to a sitting position, his hands going to his ankle. He pulled up the pants leg and pulled off his sock and shoe.
Nick made a face at the sight. "Man, Gris. That doesn't look good." He looked up at the supervisor's face. "What happened?"
Grissom shook his head; dark purple and black bruises were already appearing around his ankle. "He grabbed it; I think he twisted it. It's probably broken."
Nick's mouth fell open a little bit, and he turned to stare at the now calm water of the lake. Then he shook his head and reached down to try and pull Grissom up. The older man was able to stand, but had to lean heavily on Nick. The slightest bit of weight put on his injured foot sent sharp pain all through his body.
Nick helped Grissom hobble away from the shore, and two EMTs met them halfway to the ambulance with a stretcher. They lowered it a bit, but not to the ground.
"Sir," one of them said to Grissom, indicating that he should sit on it. He did so and allowed them to push him into a lying position. They gently lifted his legs onto it, settling the broken one onto a rolled up blanket. He was strapped in, then bombarded with questions.
"Does your chest hurt?" one asked. Grissom nodded, and an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose as they wheeled him over to the ambulance.
He could only move his head in reply to their other questions. Yes, his ankle hurt. No, he didn't hit it on a rock. Yes, Murdock was responsible. Yes, he was tired. No, he didn't think he could stay awake until they reached the hospital. And yes, Sara had been breathing when he brought her up.
The last thing he saw before they shut the ambulance doors was a soaked Nick and Brass, staring at him, their expressions grieved.
Sara awoke to terrible pain in her chest and head. She groaned and rolled over, her hands going to her temples. Once she felt that the headache had subsided enough, she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a window covered with beige mini-blinds against a plain white wall. She frowned, rolling onto her back again and sitting up.
She was in a hospital room, completely bare except for a chair and a 'Get Well Soon' balloon. Her door was open, and she could see the various nurses, doctors, and patients as they walked past, but no one showed any interest in her room.
She looked down at herself, seeing that she wasn't dressed in the usual flimsy hospital gown. Instead, she was clad in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She made a face, then tried to remember how she had ended up there.
She never saw him coming. All she knew is that one minute she was standing next to Grissom, trying to decide whether she wanted to talk to him or not, and the next she was falling through the air. The water was cold, so cold that she almost lost her breath. She tried to swim to the surface, but something was pulling her down. She turned to see what it was.
It was Murdock, their killer. He stared up at her with a maniacal glint in his eye, one hand holding onto Sara's leg securely. She tried to kick free to reach the surface, but Murdock was sinking fast with a good grip.
He reached the bottom first, still holding onto her leg. She kicked and fought some more, but was running out of air. Finally, the spots dancing before her eyes gave way to darkness. But as she let the darkness overcome her, she felt her foot being released, and the feeling of something lifting her up.
"Hey, kid," she heard someone say, breaking into her thoughts. She looked up to see Brass standing in the doorway, a small grin on his tired face. She did notice that he was no longer in his suit. Instead, he was dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt. She wondered for a moment how long she had been out.
"Hey, Brass," she replied tentatively, sitting up straighter. "What's going on?"
He frowned, sinking into the chair. "You don't remember?"
"I remember going into the water. But after that, things go dark."
He gave her a small smile. "Yeah, they would, wouldn't they?"
"Who pulled me out? I felt…as if someone lifted me up. And I'm obviously not dead."
"Why's that?"
"I wouldn't be talking to you!"
Brass laughed, then shook his head. "Grissom pulled you out."
Sara's jaw dropped. "Grissom? Grissom pulled me out?"
"Yeah, sure did. We saw you and Murdock fall into the water, and I turned away to start yelling at some of the cadets. Next thing I know, Gil's thrown himself off the edge of the cliff after you."
"He jumped in by himself?"
"Well, me and Nicky helped pull you guys out of the water, but it was really all Grissom."
Sara was silent for a moment, her thoughts a jumbled blur. "Where is he now?" she asked quietly. If Grissom had been concerned enough to jump into freezing water after her, why wasn't he here now? Had he done it out of concern for the lab, she wondered bitterly.
Brass jerked his head to the right. "Five doors down that way."
Her eyes widened. "Why? What's wrong with him?"
"Mostly the same as you. Slight hypothermia, near drowning. He's also got a broken ankle."
"How did that happen?" Sara asked, her heart sinking a bit. She suddenly felt very guitly for her earlier thoughts.
Brass shrugged. "From what the doctors are saying, it looks as though someone twisted it around. Probably Murdock, trying to keep you guys from getting away."
"Oh," Sara said, turning her eyes away from the police captain. She knew that what had happened wasn't her fault; she felt bad for being so cold to Grissom in the hours preceding the incident. He had been trying to be nice to her, but she didn't want to have anything to do with him. When he spoke to her, she'd either ignore him or acknowledge him with a nod of her head. She could tell that she was hurting his feelings, but at that time, she didn't care. Now she felt really bad.
And he had jumped into the water after her. He hadn't waited for the proper officials to arrive, like she would have figured. He'd jumped right in; no hesitation, the way Brass told it.
She looked up to see Brass studying her with a knowing expression. "I've talked to your doctor. He said you should be fine, though your chest may hurt for a while. He sees no apparent lung complications, so you're good on that." He nodded towards the floor. "Shoes are right there by the wall. We had Catherine run to your place and grab you a dry pair. Figured they'd be more comfortable," he said with a shrug.
"Thanks," she said. Half of her was touched that they would even think of something like that, the other half was wondering how Catherine got into her apartment in the first place.
Brass sighed and slapped his hands on the armrest as he stood up. "Well, you're alive. That's what I wanted to see. And I hope you don't mind me leaving, but I've got some angry cops to deal with. They want to know how our suspect drowned in the lake."
Sara had to endure an exam from her doctor soon after Brass left. After she was finished, she was told that she was clear to go home whenever she felt strong enough. She thanked the doctor, then fell asleep for an hour. When she woke up, she impulsively turned on the TV, wondering what cases the rest of CSI was having to work.
The first story she saw was on peace talks in some third world country, and the next few stories didn't seem much better. She was on the verge of turning the TV off when the news reporter's voice came back on.
"Suspected serial killer, Ryan Murdock, died today after jumping off a cliff into Lake Mead. Officials say Murdock was supposedly leading them to the location of his latest victim, but search teams turned up nothing. After police called off the search, Murdock managed to break free of his restraints and jump into the lake, taking a Vegas CSI with him.
Video footage was taken as the woman was pulled from the lake, not by firefighters or divers, but by a fellow CSI. This video shows CSI supervisor Gil Grissom pulling Sara Sidle from the water."
Sara sat up straighter as footage of the lake flashed onto the TV. A moment later, she watched as Grissom broke the surface, taking a moment to breathe and check on her before swimming to shore. She felt her throat constrict at the sight of Grissom's struggle, which ended only when Nick and Brass jumped in to help.
The video cut to one of her being strapped to a gurney and loaded into the ambulance. Then it went back to the shore, where Grissom had fallen and was being helped up by Nick. The news reporter's voice came back on just as a shot of Grissom being put into the back of a second ambulance was shown, the condition of his ankle rather evident.
"Both CSI's have been taken to Desert Palm Hospital, where they are being treated for their injuries. Reports say Ms. Sidle suffered near-drowning and hypothermia, while Mr. Grissom suffered the same as well as a broken ankle."
Sara lifted the remote and shut off the TV, feeling as if her heart had sunken to her stomach. She'd known all of the details the report had given, but seeing Grissom pulling her out of the depths of the lake was an entirely different thing.
Even though she'd been in a hospital quite a few times before, Sara still felt a little nervous as she walked through the halls. She felt as if she were trespassing, her footsteps wrecking chaos in the calm, quiet of the halls. She glanced into almost every room, even though she knew exactly which one Grissom was in. She'd asked a nurse, and the woman had happily supplied the information.
Finally, she reached Grissom's room. The door was shut, and Sara hesitated for a long time before finally pushing it open.
Grissom was lying on the bed, his covers pulled up to his neck and curled up on his side, something Sara found very cute. He was fast asleep, and though the blankets were long enough, one of his feet still stuck out of the bottom from the way he had twisted them up.
She froze as she stared at his foot. It was his left one, the broken one. The swelling had obviously gone down enough for a cast, which the doctors had done rather quickly. She glanced at the walls, seeing an X-ray box on one of them. She stepped up to it, seeing that his X-rays were still hanging on it. She flipped a switch on the bottom of the box to the 'on' position, then waited as the lights flickered on.
She frowned as she studied Grissom's X-rays. There were two X-rays, one for each side. From what she saw, the tibia and fibula had been popped out of the sockets, with his fibula fractured.
Sara shook her head. Just because both bones weren't broken didn't make her feel better. She still felt responsible; feeling as if she should have kept a better eye on Murdock. If she'd been watching him, not thinking of something to say that would make Grissom feel guilty, then she never would have ended up in the water. Grissom would never have had to go down after her.
She heard a sigh and turned to look at Grissom. He was still asleep, but had stretched out a little bit more on the bed, resituating his head onto his arm. Still staring at him, Sara made her way to the side of his bed, sinking down into a chair. She studied his face for a long time, seeing how sleep made him seem so much younger. It took off all of the stress that plagued him daily.
"Cursed was the day you became supervisor," she whispered to herself. She wasn't criticizing his supervising methods; she just didn't like all of the stress that it put him through.
Grissom sighed again, and opened his eyes this time. For a long moment, he simply stared off into space. Then his eyes finally focused, traveling up to Sara's face.
He moved his lips as if he wanted to speak, closing his eyes again. Sara thought he was going back to sleep, but then he managed to force the words out. "Hey, Sara." His voice was raspy.
She smiled. "Hey, Grissom. How you feeling?"
He gave her a small, tired grin. "At the moment, I don't feel anything. They've been giving me these pills—you know, for my ankle—and that is some strong stuff." He glanced up at the X-ray box. "I'd expect you to ask me how my ankle was, but I think you already know."
Sara nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't help myself."
"How are you doing?"
Sara shrugged. "Good. I can go home anytime I want. I just wanted to visit you first. You know, see how you were doing."
"Thanks," he said, closing his eyes again.
"No, thank you," she said. When Grissom didn't reply, she put a hand on his face. His eyes shot open and met hers. "Really, Gris. Thank you. For everything that you did."
He smiled. "You're welcome, Sara."
She began running the back of her fingers gently across his face. "You risked your life for me. You could have died because of me," she said, her voice choking a little.
"Sara, nothing in the world could have kept me from going after you. And I would have died for you, not because of you."
Sara shook her head, still smiling. "That's some twisted up logic there, Grissom."
"It's true," he said with such conviction that Sara couldn't bring herself to challenge it.
Sara gave him a small smile, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Well, thank you," she repeated, unsure of what to tell the person who just saved her life. "I can't ever tell you how grateful I am." She squeezed his shoulder lightly. "If there's anything that you need, will you let me know? I think Atwater's given me a week off, so I'll be at home if you call. Okay?" Grissom nodded, and Sara stood up, ready to go back to her lonely apartment.
But as she began to step away, Grissom suddenly reached for her, grasping her sleeve. "Sara," he said, then stopped, as if the air to his lungs had been cut off.
She turned, fixing him with a concerned gaze. "Yeah, Gris? What is it? What do you need?"
Grissom swallowed a few times. "You," he said slowly, getting a perplexed look from Sara. "I need you," he repeated.
Sara was confused for a moment. "Me? What exactly did they give you for pain, Gris?" she asked.
He shook his head, moving his hand down to grasp hers. "I need you. Here. With me."
Sara stared at him for a moment, taking in his weakened state. Then she gave him a small smile, seeing the sincerity and clearness in his eyes. She sank down into a chair, squeezing his hand. "Okay, Gris. I'll be here. For as long as you need me."
END