Blind Revenge
By: Manda and Allison
A/N: If we haven't said before (I know it was mentioned on the graveshift list), this story is being posted a chapter a week. This is week five, so here's chapter five for you. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far.
Chapter Five: Proof
~*~*~*~
"Nick, got anything?"
Under the bed, In Catherine's home, produced nothing more than a crumpled sock and a can of mace, and Sara dutifully photographed them before turning to her partner, bent over a laundry hamper.
"Nah- nothing yet." The Texas drawl was muffled as Nick thrust his head deeper into the abyss of the wicker basket, gloved hands digging further down into the chest. "Gris said to---"
"What's that? Find something good in there?" Sara's eyes fastened on the bend of Nick's firm butt beneath tanned trousers, and her eyebrows lifted as his rear was thrust higher.
"Any deeper in there- you might find something you don't want to find, Nick."
"Just covering all the bases." He grinned, that grin that was almost always accompanied by a devilish sparkle in his eye.
"I didn't know Catherine wore leopard print bikini underwear."
"I didn't know Catherine was a men's size 12."
"Cute Nick, I'm laughing on the inside, really I am," Sara snorted.
"You think I'm joking?" He pointed to a pair of underwear that was clearly male. "Looks like Catherine's been getting around and not telling us."
"Do you fuck and tell, Nick?"
Nick eyed his partner warily, "Is there something a certain brunette CSI is hiding?"
"No," she replied matter-of-factly, "but if there was, I certainly wouldn't run around telling everyone about it -if you catch my drift."
"And here I thought you were cheating on me with some hot stud..."
"I think I should be more worried about you -ladies man."
"Can we get back to work now?"
"Sure thing, Casanova" Sara grinned, and then moved over to place the bagged evidence in her hand next to her kit. They had bagged and tagged more than they normally would have, but then again this was not a normal case. Gil had said to leave no stone unturned, and so far, they hadn't. "Hey Nick, did you check that chest yet?" She laid eyes on the Hope Chest, unaware of what its contents might be.
"Not yet-go knock yourself out."
Sara made her way over the large rosewood chest, the gold hinges shining as the beam of her flashlight hit it. Kneeling before it and setting her flashlight down on the ground; Sara placed a latex glove clad hand upon the lid; tracing the intricate designs with her fingers. 'It's beautiful,' she thought to herself, and wondered if the treasures inside it were as lovely as the tomb that encased them.
"Guess I'll just have to find out," she mumbled, opening the lid carefully. What she found, was a life she never knew Catherine had lived.
"Hey Nick come take a look at this."
"What is it?" He asked moving around the bed and coming to stand next to her.
"Catherine's life."
"Some people keep scrapbooks, photo albums -it looks like this was Cath's. Leave it to her to be unconventional."
"Look at all this stuff...old phone numbers, notes, photos, movie ticket stubs, hospital bracelets -I never knew one person could accumulate so many things."
"She kept everything," Nick sighed, "even the things that were unpleasant." Nick pointed to the medical equipment stuffed near the bottom.
"Has she ever talked to you about that...that part of her life?"
"No, never...Grissom knows though."
"He does?" Sara's eyebrows arched upward in surprise.
"You didn't know that? Gil met Cath...wow, in practically a completely different lifetime."
"I knew he recruited her, but I didn't know he'd helped her..."
"Close up her nose? He did. Our very own people-skills deficient Grissom."
Eager to get off of the topic, Sara turned her attention to the Halloween paper wrapped pill bottle. Picking it up, she looked over the label-and was surprised to find such a recent date.
"Prozac-prescription filled a few days ago."
"A few days ago. But Gris and I just-" Nick's current expression was one of confusion, then disbelief as he held out a bag for Sara to place the bottle into. "I don't get it- Cath's been sneaking extra prescriptions?"
"Looks that way. But no matter how much Prozac she's been taking...it shouldn't have been enough for her to go wiggy on us."
"Wiggy?"
"Yeah, Nick- crazy. Our perfectly normal Catherine suddenly went crazy...and this is
the answer." She sealed the bag with a sleek efficiency and tossed it into a nearby evidence kit. "We've got to get this to Greg- have him run a trace on the inside of the bottle. If there's anything left in there...maybe it'll tell us what's going on."
"This is getting too weird. You really think that someone is poisoning her?"
"Grissom does. Or at least that's what I got out of that speech aback at the hospital."
"True, but a wise woman gave me some great advice once; she said 'Grissom's not always right, do yourself a favor, and think for yourself.' I think it's worked pretty well so far. I'm just trying to look at this from every angle."
"Coined by Catherine herself, I'll bet."
"The one and only."
And with that, Nick turned, venturing into Catherine's bathroom, leaving the door hanging open in his wake.
"Hey- I already checked in there," Sara called to his retreating back, but the intent, on-the-job Nick barely heard, leaning into the shower stall that was nestled into the north corner. "Nick!"
"I know, I heard you." He withdrew, sheepishly, holding a pink-and-lavender bottle in one gloved hand. "I just had to know."
"Had to know what?"
"What kind of shampoo Catherine uses," He replied, and returned the bottle to the shelf, Sara catching only a brief mutter as she turned to exit the tiny room. "Ha, Greg- winner takes all."
"And you can tell him that when we get back to the lab, now come on Nick we're supposed to be doing this quickly."
"You sure know how to ruin a guy's fun, Sara," Nick smirked.
All he got in return was a glare.
~*~*~*~
Twenty minutes later, the pair was back at CSI pacing idly around the DNA lab, waiting for the results on the medicine bottle. Only stopping every so often to glance at one another, or glare at the machine, which was taking far too long to spit out its results.
"Will you two please just chill out; the thing's working as fast as it can go. Mentally smashing it into a thousand pieces isn't going to make it run any faster," Greg Sanders chided jokingly.
"Well, Greggo- you hand over that hundred that you owe me, and I'll treat Sara to steak and eggs at Tut's Tomb. Otherwise, you hurry up with that evidence." Nick handed Sara a Styrofoam cup of the greasy office swill and grinned at the sickened expression that swiftly flittered across her face.
"Steak and eggs..." Sara briefly recalled the moment in the past when Nick had promised such a thing, and smiled. "Speaking of steak, Nick- don't you owe me?"
"What exactly do I owe you, Sara?" He asked waggling his eyebrows.
"You remember the time you promised me you wouldn't forget that I was a vegetarian? We shook on it and everything...looks like I was right." Putting her hands on her hip, she continued, "So it looks like that hundred bucks goes to me. Unless..." her voice trailed off as she heard the beeping of the printer nearby.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you're willing to... drive," She finished, snatching the paper as the printer deposited a crisp sheet, rife with text describing something she hadn't expected.
"What is it?"
"What would you be if I were willing to sleep with you?"
"That would be revolt--" Nick's words were halted by a sharp glare shot directly to his moving lips, and he smiled. "I give up, Sara."
"Ecstasy, Nick. Cath's being poisoned, all right, with ecstasy."
"We need to get back to Desert Palms. Now."
Sara tossed him the keys. "You drive."
"It is what I do best," Nick winked, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on as they headed out the door.
"Now I know why you've always had a hard time getting past the first date with all your women-that fabulous sense of humor of yours."
"Nah, they're just all slow to catch up." He tossed her a wink and snatched the paper from her fingers, moving out the door as Sara's head turned in Greg's direction. The young lab rat was still perched upon his stool, a jaunty grin on his face as he observed the conversation.
"What is it, Greg? Phone-sex not covering those long, lonely nights?" And with that, she trailed after Nick, careful to ignore Greg's swift reply.
"Better run, Sara- don't want to be slow to catch up!"
And with that, the young lab tech. headed back to work.
~*~*~*~
"That the tox screen on Catherine Willows?" Warrick asked impatiently, not particularly happy with having had to wait for an hour for results that were supposed to be 'rushed'.
"It is...though I'm still not exactly sure why you want it," the nurse replied, handing him the report.
"And it'll probably stay that way." Warrick sat down in a chair outside of Catherine's room, and cautiously flipped through the report in front of him. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for; all he could hope was that he knew what it was when he saw it.
And he did.
"Ecstasy." He spoke in a hushed whisper, not keen on the idea of passers-by hearing the young black man sitting half-asleep with rumpled clothes and bags under his eyes, talking about common street drugs. Try as he might, he couldn't forget that stereotypes were alive and well, and living in Las Vegas. "What's Cath doing with ecstasy in her system, anyway?"
"Probably not the backstroke." He looked up at the approaching footsteps and voice of Gil Grissom, who held up a sleek silver cell, looking grim. "Just got the call from Nick- there were copious amounts of ecstasy found in a pill bottle in Catherine's house."
"In a pill bottle?"
"With a label for Prozac. Filled two days ago." The boss looked increasingly grim as he glanced through Catherine's partially opened door.
"She's still asleep?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Nurse said she's had to be upped on the sedatives- withdrawal symptoms getting pretty bad."
"Man..." Warrick drawled off in thought. "How could something like this happen? Don't those prescriptions get checked, or anything?"
"People don't have eyeballs in the backs of their heads, Warrick. They can't see everything."
"You knew, didn't you? You knew all along. How?"
"You get to know someone after so many years; and Catherine and I have known each other a lot of years. I've seen her break down-get angry, throw things at the wall, cry...I've seen her happy-face shining at her fortune. She's not weak, in any way. And I had a hard time believing she'd act that way now, after all these years of being strong. Catherine Willows doesn't know the meaning of the word."
"So, now what?" It was Warrick's turn to glance at the open door again, and a moment of silence between the two men allowed him to catch a sound of movement inside. "Sounds like Cath's awake. Think we should tell her?"
"Let me do it, Warrick. I need you to go to the pharmacy. See if you can get a list of who's been scheduled since Cath started getting her prescriptions."
"Yeah, but Gris- how are we going to know when she started-"
"Try in the week after Eddie's death...and work your way in from there." The older man moved forward, tucking his cell phone into his pocket as he stepped into the doorway. "Call the nurse's station if you get anything- I'll have my phone off."
"Yeah."
"And Warrick?" Warrick pivoted, having taken a step down the hallway, and met Grissom's eyes. "Get some sleep after that- Cath's going to need you at your best. I'll tell Nick and Sara the same thing, once they get here."
"Sure boss."
Grissom watched Warrick as he sauntered down the brightly lit hospital corridor, his eyes breaking their focus only after he saw Warrick leave the building. Turning around, he placed a hand on the door handle, careful as to not disturb Catherine as he walked into the room.
The sight of her broke his heart.
"Gil?"
"Yea Cath, it's me."
"If I were prone to believing...I'd have thought you were God, and you were surrounded by heavenly light." She cracked a grin, shifting in her bed as he sat beside it. "It's dark in here."
"They didn't think the light was good for your eyes right now, Cath. You should sleep."
"I have been, if you could call that sleep." Catherine averted her eyes for a moment. "So, what have you uncovered in the great conspiracy to take my life?"
"We don't have much to go on, yet."
"Don't give me the bullshit, Grissom. I heard Warrick...I know the drill. Drug tests...the nurse hasn't come in yet...and I know you've got the results. So spill it."
"Your pills are being spiked with ecstasy, Catherine. Not enough to kill you- but combined with your regular medication, it's throwing you off balance."
"Actually I felt quite in-balance, for awhile there..." Catherine trailed off; her hands balled into fists as she bit back the pain that was building at the back of her skull. Grissom, ever aware, noticed this, and gave her an odd glance.
"Cath, do you want me to get a nurse?"
"I'm fine," she gritted through her teeth, accidentally biting her lip in the process, the blood salty and wet against her dry lips.
"You told them not to give you anything, didn't you?"
"Would you want something, if you were in my condition!?" She snapped, and then recoiled at her own ferocity, shrinking into her pillow. "I'm sorry. They kept upping the dosage...and... It brings back those memories, you know. I didn't do ecstasy...but I did so many other things, and when I was getting out of them...all I could feel was that sensation that my brain wanted to break out of my skull. It's that familiar pain- and it's back again. I never thought I'd feel this way again."
"It's almost over," Grissom replied, wrapping her fingers in his own, gently stroking the back of her hand. "The nurses say that it's almost out of your system. Another twenty-four hours, and you should be back to normal."
"Normal. That's relative." She sighed. "And when I am- I don't suppose I'll still have a job. If the Sheriff has anything to say about it, I'm sure I'll be hugging a pole at the French Palace before the month is out."
"That's not going to happen, Cath."
"How can you be so sure? I mean really, Gil, look at me," she held up her hand as far as it would go, her fingers shaking violently. "I can't even hold my own damn hand still. Who's to say this will go away? It doesn't always go away...God, I feel like I'm boiling in my own skin."
"Cath it won't..."
"Burning up one second, freezing the next," she continued as if unaware of the hand that was clasping hers. "I can't take it, Fucking hell it's hot." Her mumbling continued; her mind unable, it seemed, to be able to wrap itself around any other concept.
"Mr .Grissom?" He tore his eyes away from Catherine's fast-moving lips, nodding to a nurse who stood just within the doorway, a slip of paper in her hand. "You've got a message- from a Warrick Brown."
"Yes, thank you." He followed her into the hallway, pulling out his cell and dialing Warrick's number. "Warrick?"
"Yeah, boss. Brass is bringing in a suspect- I thought you might want to be here."
"You're right, Warrick. Thanks for the head's up." He did want to be there- did want to be across the table from the person who could possibly be responsible for putting Catherine in restraints, through withdrawals she'd never wanted to experience again. He had to be there...for that.
TBC.
By: Manda and Allison
A/N: If we haven't said before (I know it was mentioned on the graveshift list), this story is being posted a chapter a week. This is week five, so here's chapter five for you. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far.
Chapter Five: Proof
~*~*~*~
"Nick, got anything?"
Under the bed, In Catherine's home, produced nothing more than a crumpled sock and a can of mace, and Sara dutifully photographed them before turning to her partner, bent over a laundry hamper.
"Nah- nothing yet." The Texas drawl was muffled as Nick thrust his head deeper into the abyss of the wicker basket, gloved hands digging further down into the chest. "Gris said to---"
"What's that? Find something good in there?" Sara's eyes fastened on the bend of Nick's firm butt beneath tanned trousers, and her eyebrows lifted as his rear was thrust higher.
"Any deeper in there- you might find something you don't want to find, Nick."
"Just covering all the bases." He grinned, that grin that was almost always accompanied by a devilish sparkle in his eye.
"I didn't know Catherine wore leopard print bikini underwear."
"I didn't know Catherine was a men's size 12."
"Cute Nick, I'm laughing on the inside, really I am," Sara snorted.
"You think I'm joking?" He pointed to a pair of underwear that was clearly male. "Looks like Catherine's been getting around and not telling us."
"Do you fuck and tell, Nick?"
Nick eyed his partner warily, "Is there something a certain brunette CSI is hiding?"
"No," she replied matter-of-factly, "but if there was, I certainly wouldn't run around telling everyone about it -if you catch my drift."
"And here I thought you were cheating on me with some hot stud..."
"I think I should be more worried about you -ladies man."
"Can we get back to work now?"
"Sure thing, Casanova" Sara grinned, and then moved over to place the bagged evidence in her hand next to her kit. They had bagged and tagged more than they normally would have, but then again this was not a normal case. Gil had said to leave no stone unturned, and so far, they hadn't. "Hey Nick, did you check that chest yet?" She laid eyes on the Hope Chest, unaware of what its contents might be.
"Not yet-go knock yourself out."
Sara made her way over the large rosewood chest, the gold hinges shining as the beam of her flashlight hit it. Kneeling before it and setting her flashlight down on the ground; Sara placed a latex glove clad hand upon the lid; tracing the intricate designs with her fingers. 'It's beautiful,' she thought to herself, and wondered if the treasures inside it were as lovely as the tomb that encased them.
"Guess I'll just have to find out," she mumbled, opening the lid carefully. What she found, was a life she never knew Catherine had lived.
"Hey Nick come take a look at this."
"What is it?" He asked moving around the bed and coming to stand next to her.
"Catherine's life."
"Some people keep scrapbooks, photo albums -it looks like this was Cath's. Leave it to her to be unconventional."
"Look at all this stuff...old phone numbers, notes, photos, movie ticket stubs, hospital bracelets -I never knew one person could accumulate so many things."
"She kept everything," Nick sighed, "even the things that were unpleasant." Nick pointed to the medical equipment stuffed near the bottom.
"Has she ever talked to you about that...that part of her life?"
"No, never...Grissom knows though."
"He does?" Sara's eyebrows arched upward in surprise.
"You didn't know that? Gil met Cath...wow, in practically a completely different lifetime."
"I knew he recruited her, but I didn't know he'd helped her..."
"Close up her nose? He did. Our very own people-skills deficient Grissom."
Eager to get off of the topic, Sara turned her attention to the Halloween paper wrapped pill bottle. Picking it up, she looked over the label-and was surprised to find such a recent date.
"Prozac-prescription filled a few days ago."
"A few days ago. But Gris and I just-" Nick's current expression was one of confusion, then disbelief as he held out a bag for Sara to place the bottle into. "I don't get it- Cath's been sneaking extra prescriptions?"
"Looks that way. But no matter how much Prozac she's been taking...it shouldn't have been enough for her to go wiggy on us."
"Wiggy?"
"Yeah, Nick- crazy. Our perfectly normal Catherine suddenly went crazy...and this is
the answer." She sealed the bag with a sleek efficiency and tossed it into a nearby evidence kit. "We've got to get this to Greg- have him run a trace on the inside of the bottle. If there's anything left in there...maybe it'll tell us what's going on."
"This is getting too weird. You really think that someone is poisoning her?"
"Grissom does. Or at least that's what I got out of that speech aback at the hospital."
"True, but a wise woman gave me some great advice once; she said 'Grissom's not always right, do yourself a favor, and think for yourself.' I think it's worked pretty well so far. I'm just trying to look at this from every angle."
"Coined by Catherine herself, I'll bet."
"The one and only."
And with that, Nick turned, venturing into Catherine's bathroom, leaving the door hanging open in his wake.
"Hey- I already checked in there," Sara called to his retreating back, but the intent, on-the-job Nick barely heard, leaning into the shower stall that was nestled into the north corner. "Nick!"
"I know, I heard you." He withdrew, sheepishly, holding a pink-and-lavender bottle in one gloved hand. "I just had to know."
"Had to know what?"
"What kind of shampoo Catherine uses," He replied, and returned the bottle to the shelf, Sara catching only a brief mutter as she turned to exit the tiny room. "Ha, Greg- winner takes all."
"And you can tell him that when we get back to the lab, now come on Nick we're supposed to be doing this quickly."
"You sure know how to ruin a guy's fun, Sara," Nick smirked.
All he got in return was a glare.
~*~*~*~
Twenty minutes later, the pair was back at CSI pacing idly around the DNA lab, waiting for the results on the medicine bottle. Only stopping every so often to glance at one another, or glare at the machine, which was taking far too long to spit out its results.
"Will you two please just chill out; the thing's working as fast as it can go. Mentally smashing it into a thousand pieces isn't going to make it run any faster," Greg Sanders chided jokingly.
"Well, Greggo- you hand over that hundred that you owe me, and I'll treat Sara to steak and eggs at Tut's Tomb. Otherwise, you hurry up with that evidence." Nick handed Sara a Styrofoam cup of the greasy office swill and grinned at the sickened expression that swiftly flittered across her face.
"Steak and eggs..." Sara briefly recalled the moment in the past when Nick had promised such a thing, and smiled. "Speaking of steak, Nick- don't you owe me?"
"What exactly do I owe you, Sara?" He asked waggling his eyebrows.
"You remember the time you promised me you wouldn't forget that I was a vegetarian? We shook on it and everything...looks like I was right." Putting her hands on her hip, she continued, "So it looks like that hundred bucks goes to me. Unless..." her voice trailed off as she heard the beeping of the printer nearby.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you're willing to... drive," She finished, snatching the paper as the printer deposited a crisp sheet, rife with text describing something she hadn't expected.
"What is it?"
"What would you be if I were willing to sleep with you?"
"That would be revolt--" Nick's words were halted by a sharp glare shot directly to his moving lips, and he smiled. "I give up, Sara."
"Ecstasy, Nick. Cath's being poisoned, all right, with ecstasy."
"We need to get back to Desert Palms. Now."
Sara tossed him the keys. "You drive."
"It is what I do best," Nick winked, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on as they headed out the door.
"Now I know why you've always had a hard time getting past the first date with all your women-that fabulous sense of humor of yours."
"Nah, they're just all slow to catch up." He tossed her a wink and snatched the paper from her fingers, moving out the door as Sara's head turned in Greg's direction. The young lab rat was still perched upon his stool, a jaunty grin on his face as he observed the conversation.
"What is it, Greg? Phone-sex not covering those long, lonely nights?" And with that, she trailed after Nick, careful to ignore Greg's swift reply.
"Better run, Sara- don't want to be slow to catch up!"
And with that, the young lab tech. headed back to work.
~*~*~*~
"That the tox screen on Catherine Willows?" Warrick asked impatiently, not particularly happy with having had to wait for an hour for results that were supposed to be 'rushed'.
"It is...though I'm still not exactly sure why you want it," the nurse replied, handing him the report.
"And it'll probably stay that way." Warrick sat down in a chair outside of Catherine's room, and cautiously flipped through the report in front of him. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for; all he could hope was that he knew what it was when he saw it.
And he did.
"Ecstasy." He spoke in a hushed whisper, not keen on the idea of passers-by hearing the young black man sitting half-asleep with rumpled clothes and bags under his eyes, talking about common street drugs. Try as he might, he couldn't forget that stereotypes were alive and well, and living in Las Vegas. "What's Cath doing with ecstasy in her system, anyway?"
"Probably not the backstroke." He looked up at the approaching footsteps and voice of Gil Grissom, who held up a sleek silver cell, looking grim. "Just got the call from Nick- there were copious amounts of ecstasy found in a pill bottle in Catherine's house."
"In a pill bottle?"
"With a label for Prozac. Filled two days ago." The boss looked increasingly grim as he glanced through Catherine's partially opened door.
"She's still asleep?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Nurse said she's had to be upped on the sedatives- withdrawal symptoms getting pretty bad."
"Man..." Warrick drawled off in thought. "How could something like this happen? Don't those prescriptions get checked, or anything?"
"People don't have eyeballs in the backs of their heads, Warrick. They can't see everything."
"You knew, didn't you? You knew all along. How?"
"You get to know someone after so many years; and Catherine and I have known each other a lot of years. I've seen her break down-get angry, throw things at the wall, cry...I've seen her happy-face shining at her fortune. She's not weak, in any way. And I had a hard time believing she'd act that way now, after all these years of being strong. Catherine Willows doesn't know the meaning of the word."
"So, now what?" It was Warrick's turn to glance at the open door again, and a moment of silence between the two men allowed him to catch a sound of movement inside. "Sounds like Cath's awake. Think we should tell her?"
"Let me do it, Warrick. I need you to go to the pharmacy. See if you can get a list of who's been scheduled since Cath started getting her prescriptions."
"Yeah, but Gris- how are we going to know when she started-"
"Try in the week after Eddie's death...and work your way in from there." The older man moved forward, tucking his cell phone into his pocket as he stepped into the doorway. "Call the nurse's station if you get anything- I'll have my phone off."
"Yeah."
"And Warrick?" Warrick pivoted, having taken a step down the hallway, and met Grissom's eyes. "Get some sleep after that- Cath's going to need you at your best. I'll tell Nick and Sara the same thing, once they get here."
"Sure boss."
Grissom watched Warrick as he sauntered down the brightly lit hospital corridor, his eyes breaking their focus only after he saw Warrick leave the building. Turning around, he placed a hand on the door handle, careful as to not disturb Catherine as he walked into the room.
The sight of her broke his heart.
"Gil?"
"Yea Cath, it's me."
"If I were prone to believing...I'd have thought you were God, and you were surrounded by heavenly light." She cracked a grin, shifting in her bed as he sat beside it. "It's dark in here."
"They didn't think the light was good for your eyes right now, Cath. You should sleep."
"I have been, if you could call that sleep." Catherine averted her eyes for a moment. "So, what have you uncovered in the great conspiracy to take my life?"
"We don't have much to go on, yet."
"Don't give me the bullshit, Grissom. I heard Warrick...I know the drill. Drug tests...the nurse hasn't come in yet...and I know you've got the results. So spill it."
"Your pills are being spiked with ecstasy, Catherine. Not enough to kill you- but combined with your regular medication, it's throwing you off balance."
"Actually I felt quite in-balance, for awhile there..." Catherine trailed off; her hands balled into fists as she bit back the pain that was building at the back of her skull. Grissom, ever aware, noticed this, and gave her an odd glance.
"Cath, do you want me to get a nurse?"
"I'm fine," she gritted through her teeth, accidentally biting her lip in the process, the blood salty and wet against her dry lips.
"You told them not to give you anything, didn't you?"
"Would you want something, if you were in my condition!?" She snapped, and then recoiled at her own ferocity, shrinking into her pillow. "I'm sorry. They kept upping the dosage...and... It brings back those memories, you know. I didn't do ecstasy...but I did so many other things, and when I was getting out of them...all I could feel was that sensation that my brain wanted to break out of my skull. It's that familiar pain- and it's back again. I never thought I'd feel this way again."
"It's almost over," Grissom replied, wrapping her fingers in his own, gently stroking the back of her hand. "The nurses say that it's almost out of your system. Another twenty-four hours, and you should be back to normal."
"Normal. That's relative." She sighed. "And when I am- I don't suppose I'll still have a job. If the Sheriff has anything to say about it, I'm sure I'll be hugging a pole at the French Palace before the month is out."
"That's not going to happen, Cath."
"How can you be so sure? I mean really, Gil, look at me," she held up her hand as far as it would go, her fingers shaking violently. "I can't even hold my own damn hand still. Who's to say this will go away? It doesn't always go away...God, I feel like I'm boiling in my own skin."
"Cath it won't..."
"Burning up one second, freezing the next," she continued as if unaware of the hand that was clasping hers. "I can't take it, Fucking hell it's hot." Her mumbling continued; her mind unable, it seemed, to be able to wrap itself around any other concept.
"Mr .Grissom?" He tore his eyes away from Catherine's fast-moving lips, nodding to a nurse who stood just within the doorway, a slip of paper in her hand. "You've got a message- from a Warrick Brown."
"Yes, thank you." He followed her into the hallway, pulling out his cell and dialing Warrick's number. "Warrick?"
"Yeah, boss. Brass is bringing in a suspect- I thought you might want to be here."
"You're right, Warrick. Thanks for the head's up." He did want to be there- did want to be across the table from the person who could possibly be responsible for putting Catherine in restraints, through withdrawals she'd never wanted to experience again. He had to be there...for that.
TBC.