Blind Revenge
By: Manda and Allison
Chapter 8: A Rat Among Us
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"How is she?" Grissom hadn't bothered to return to Catherine's hospital room, pausing at the nurse's desk only for the usual check on her status. He was known far too well, to his taste, and without a word he fielded a wave from the patrolling orderly. "Any improvements?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom...but we have orders not to release any information to you at this time..." The young nurse seemed hedgy at best, her nametag concealed behind lengths of mousy brown hair.
"Orders from whom?"
"A...Conrad Ecklie, sir. He's informed us that he is investigating the condition of Ms.
Willows, and, that we are not to allow you within her room, Sir."
That was the third sir in five minutes, and Grissom's eyebrow mounted his higher forehead within seconds.
"Conrad Ecklie had no right to be here in the first place, let alone start investigating the condition of Ms. Willows, as you put it. He doesn't have the authority to tell me what I can and cannot do. So if you'll excuse me, I'll go in and look for myself."
"I can't allow you to do that, Sir."
"Nurse Tiner, you know me," he replied finally getting a good look at her nametag. "I've been here before, there's no need to call me Sir. And with all due respect, there's no way in hell you're going to stop me." Grissom's voice was calm and steady, not allowing his spite for Conrad Ecklie to seep through into his words.
"He said his orders came from the sheriff...Grissom, I can't let you go in there."
"Let me go in!" The outburst wasn't expected- least of all from Grissom himself, whose hands lashed out as he pushed roughly past the officer and turned the knob, breaking into the cool interior of Catherine's darkened room. He heard the sounds behind him, voices calling for Ecklie...the sheriff...but he didn't care, as he came screeching to a halt on the white linoleum.
"Gil." The rattlesnake is not prone to attack unless provoked, and Grissom could have sworn he'd heard a rattle from within the auburn headed sheriff as the collected man rose. "We were just talking about you."
Catherine's eyes turned in his direction, her lips remaining together as steady, watery blue eyes quietly observed him. He didn't like it, finding that stare as unnerving as that which came from within the steely eyes of the town sheriff.
"Mobley." Grissom practically hissed out the words.
"I take it you're not happy to see me?"
"Oh it's always an eventful day when I get to have a chat with you, Brian. But today...today I think this is a record. Twice you've graced me with your presence. I feel honored."
"I'd hardly call our last little chat an encounter, would you? If I remember, I barely got a word in edge wise before you hung up. You might want to consider who signs your paychecks, before you tell me 'go to hell', again."
"Brian- could I speak with you in the hallway?" He didn't want it to get ugly so soon...not in front of the object of their latest argument. Her eyes were wide...so blue, so curious...and he forced himself to look away, yet not into the eyes of the devil.
"No, Gil, we'll get this over with now." Mobley returned to his seat, and Grissom took his own on the opposite side of the bed, reaching instinctively for Catherine's hand. "Ms. Willows...I assume you can understand me?"
"She's sick, Brian- not deaf. I think she," Withdrawing his hand momentarily, Grissom swiftly signed 'understands you fine' with confident fingers, and Mobley completed his sentence.
"Ms. Willows..." Grissom watched as Mobley started his sentence and then paused, unsure of where to go.
"It's Catherine, Brian. Just Catherine..." anger rose into Grissom's voice as he felt the need to protect Catherine overcome him. "Even you don't have the balls to do it -not here, not like this. You can't even call her by her first name..."
"Gil, why don't you worry about your own job first, before you start worrying about hers. This is none of you business."
"It's my CSI we're talking about here...I'm making it my business."
"Shut up." The faint order came from Catherine, whose eyes darted between the two men, as she parted her lips to speak again. "If you're here to fire me, Brian...just do it. Don't make Grissom carry out your dirty work."
"Catherine-" Grissom attempted to intervene, but she stopped him, sliding her hand from beneath his and holding it up.
"Miss Willows...I'm sorry to have to bring you the news while you're here. But the nurses assure me they've got you in the best care possible...and although you'll be released soon... Mr. Ecklie and I don't feel you're setting the best example for CSI in the eye of the public."
"Ecklie's involved?" Grissom was on the edge of his seat now, nails pressed into his palms. "You've consulted him?"
"Conrad is the chief CSI on this case, Gil."
"Ecklie didn't even know about this case, Brian. My CSI's have been interviewing suspects, collecting evidence; it's from their hard work that there even is a case, and last I heard Conrad Ecklie was not heading night shift. So how exactly did your lovely lapdog inherit 'this case', as you call it?"
"I have my reason, Gil."
"Non-answer, Brian."
"Gil, you've been removed from your position once. I'd hate to have to mark your record by doing it again." Mobley hadn't risen, yet his threat seemed to tower high in the empty room. Before he could rise himself, however, Grissom felt Catherine's hand back on his, and he looked at her, waiting.
"It's all right, Gil. Let them have it, if that's what they want. It isn't worth your job."
"I'm not going to let Ecklie ruin this, Catherine. It's too important."
"No it isn't. Besides," She smiled, fatigue settling upon her face, yet her eyes remained bright and sparkling. "I do have other talents to fall back on, you know."
"Talents that I don't want you to have to fall back on, Catherine. You've come too far to let a man like Ecklie ruin you."
"I'm not afraid of the likes of Ecklie."
"Neither am I, but let's face it...he's biased, and can throw his weight around. He won't let this go," Gil whispered to her sternly, low enough that Mobley wasn't able to hear.
"Well, it looks like I'm finished here." Mobley abandoned his seat, turning to nod in Catherine's direction, smiling much like a man who was sure he had triumphed. "I'm sorry to have to come to you when you were in this condition, Catherine. I'm sure you understand."
"I'm sure I do, Brian." She bestowed upon him a smile, much like a woman who knew that he hadn't won anything, and he left, brisk footsteps echoing upon the floor tiles.
"Bastard," Catherine muttered, her words stifled by a deep yawn.
"I should probably go...I just wanted to check up, and see how you were and all...and you look like you need some rest."
"I've been resting since I got here, Gil," she replied softly, flashing him a smile. It was a purely genuine smile and he was glad for it. Happy that he could erase the images of the past days events and replace it with that smile.
"Sure you have..."
"Okay, maybe not the whole time, but most of the time, I swear."
Gil threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay I believe you," he told her, rising from his chair. "And now I really should go. If you need anything, Cath, you know where I am, okay?"
"Hey Gil?"
"Yea Cath?"
"Thanks, for everything...I don't know what I would have done if you weren't around. And I'm sorry," Catherine trailed off for a moment, staring at her hands for a moment. "I'm sorry if I said anything that hurt you...I don't remember all of it...I didn't mean too..."
"I know," Gil cut her off. "No need to apologize."
"Well," She managed another smile as her eyes began to close of their own accord. "I guess I'll have plenty of time to rest when I get out of here, too."
She was far too exhausted...and he couldn't help but smile himself at the way her head rolled to one side. Like a child...like Lindsey, on the nights he had stopped by and helped to tuck the little girl into bed. Not such a little girl anymore, her mother having fallen into the role as she lay in the hospital, her care in the hands of so many others.
"Very much a woman, yet still a little girl," He whispered, placing one hand on the doorknob and pushing it open. "Sleep well, Catherine."
~*~*~*~
By: Manda and Allison
Chapter 8: A Rat Among Us
~*~*~*~
"How is she?" Grissom hadn't bothered to return to Catherine's hospital room, pausing at the nurse's desk only for the usual check on her status. He was known far too well, to his taste, and without a word he fielded a wave from the patrolling orderly. "Any improvements?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom...but we have orders not to release any information to you at this time..." The young nurse seemed hedgy at best, her nametag concealed behind lengths of mousy brown hair.
"Orders from whom?"
"A...Conrad Ecklie, sir. He's informed us that he is investigating the condition of Ms.
Willows, and, that we are not to allow you within her room, Sir."
That was the third sir in five minutes, and Grissom's eyebrow mounted his higher forehead within seconds.
"Conrad Ecklie had no right to be here in the first place, let alone start investigating the condition of Ms. Willows, as you put it. He doesn't have the authority to tell me what I can and cannot do. So if you'll excuse me, I'll go in and look for myself."
"I can't allow you to do that, Sir."
"Nurse Tiner, you know me," he replied finally getting a good look at her nametag. "I've been here before, there's no need to call me Sir. And with all due respect, there's no way in hell you're going to stop me." Grissom's voice was calm and steady, not allowing his spite for Conrad Ecklie to seep through into his words.
"He said his orders came from the sheriff...Grissom, I can't let you go in there."
"Let me go in!" The outburst wasn't expected- least of all from Grissom himself, whose hands lashed out as he pushed roughly past the officer and turned the knob, breaking into the cool interior of Catherine's darkened room. He heard the sounds behind him, voices calling for Ecklie...the sheriff...but he didn't care, as he came screeching to a halt on the white linoleum.
"Gil." The rattlesnake is not prone to attack unless provoked, and Grissom could have sworn he'd heard a rattle from within the auburn headed sheriff as the collected man rose. "We were just talking about you."
Catherine's eyes turned in his direction, her lips remaining together as steady, watery blue eyes quietly observed him. He didn't like it, finding that stare as unnerving as that which came from within the steely eyes of the town sheriff.
"Mobley." Grissom practically hissed out the words.
"I take it you're not happy to see me?"
"Oh it's always an eventful day when I get to have a chat with you, Brian. But today...today I think this is a record. Twice you've graced me with your presence. I feel honored."
"I'd hardly call our last little chat an encounter, would you? If I remember, I barely got a word in edge wise before you hung up. You might want to consider who signs your paychecks, before you tell me 'go to hell', again."
"Brian- could I speak with you in the hallway?" He didn't want it to get ugly so soon...not in front of the object of their latest argument. Her eyes were wide...so blue, so curious...and he forced himself to look away, yet not into the eyes of the devil.
"No, Gil, we'll get this over with now." Mobley returned to his seat, and Grissom took his own on the opposite side of the bed, reaching instinctively for Catherine's hand. "Ms. Willows...I assume you can understand me?"
"She's sick, Brian- not deaf. I think she," Withdrawing his hand momentarily, Grissom swiftly signed 'understands you fine' with confident fingers, and Mobley completed his sentence.
"Ms. Willows..." Grissom watched as Mobley started his sentence and then paused, unsure of where to go.
"It's Catherine, Brian. Just Catherine..." anger rose into Grissom's voice as he felt the need to protect Catherine overcome him. "Even you don't have the balls to do it -not here, not like this. You can't even call her by her first name..."
"Gil, why don't you worry about your own job first, before you start worrying about hers. This is none of you business."
"It's my CSI we're talking about here...I'm making it my business."
"Shut up." The faint order came from Catherine, whose eyes darted between the two men, as she parted her lips to speak again. "If you're here to fire me, Brian...just do it. Don't make Grissom carry out your dirty work."
"Catherine-" Grissom attempted to intervene, but she stopped him, sliding her hand from beneath his and holding it up.
"Miss Willows...I'm sorry to have to bring you the news while you're here. But the nurses assure me they've got you in the best care possible...and although you'll be released soon... Mr. Ecklie and I don't feel you're setting the best example for CSI in the eye of the public."
"Ecklie's involved?" Grissom was on the edge of his seat now, nails pressed into his palms. "You've consulted him?"
"Conrad is the chief CSI on this case, Gil."
"Ecklie didn't even know about this case, Brian. My CSI's have been interviewing suspects, collecting evidence; it's from their hard work that there even is a case, and last I heard Conrad Ecklie was not heading night shift. So how exactly did your lovely lapdog inherit 'this case', as you call it?"
"I have my reason, Gil."
"Non-answer, Brian."
"Gil, you've been removed from your position once. I'd hate to have to mark your record by doing it again." Mobley hadn't risen, yet his threat seemed to tower high in the empty room. Before he could rise himself, however, Grissom felt Catherine's hand back on his, and he looked at her, waiting.
"It's all right, Gil. Let them have it, if that's what they want. It isn't worth your job."
"I'm not going to let Ecklie ruin this, Catherine. It's too important."
"No it isn't. Besides," She smiled, fatigue settling upon her face, yet her eyes remained bright and sparkling. "I do have other talents to fall back on, you know."
"Talents that I don't want you to have to fall back on, Catherine. You've come too far to let a man like Ecklie ruin you."
"I'm not afraid of the likes of Ecklie."
"Neither am I, but let's face it...he's biased, and can throw his weight around. He won't let this go," Gil whispered to her sternly, low enough that Mobley wasn't able to hear.
"Well, it looks like I'm finished here." Mobley abandoned his seat, turning to nod in Catherine's direction, smiling much like a man who was sure he had triumphed. "I'm sorry to have to come to you when you were in this condition, Catherine. I'm sure you understand."
"I'm sure I do, Brian." She bestowed upon him a smile, much like a woman who knew that he hadn't won anything, and he left, brisk footsteps echoing upon the floor tiles.
"Bastard," Catherine muttered, her words stifled by a deep yawn.
"I should probably go...I just wanted to check up, and see how you were and all...and you look like you need some rest."
"I've been resting since I got here, Gil," she replied softly, flashing him a smile. It was a purely genuine smile and he was glad for it. Happy that he could erase the images of the past days events and replace it with that smile.
"Sure you have..."
"Okay, maybe not the whole time, but most of the time, I swear."
Gil threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay I believe you," he told her, rising from his chair. "And now I really should go. If you need anything, Cath, you know where I am, okay?"
"Hey Gil?"
"Yea Cath?"
"Thanks, for everything...I don't know what I would have done if you weren't around. And I'm sorry," Catherine trailed off for a moment, staring at her hands for a moment. "I'm sorry if I said anything that hurt you...I don't remember all of it...I didn't mean too..."
"I know," Gil cut her off. "No need to apologize."
"Well," She managed another smile as her eyes began to close of their own accord. "I guess I'll have plenty of time to rest when I get out of here, too."
She was far too exhausted...and he couldn't help but smile himself at the way her head rolled to one side. Like a child...like Lindsey, on the nights he had stopped by and helped to tuck the little girl into bed. Not such a little girl anymore, her mother having fallen into the role as she lay in the hospital, her care in the hands of so many others.
"Very much a woman, yet still a little girl," He whispered, placing one hand on the doorknob and pushing it open. "Sleep well, Catherine."
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