Fear Itself
Chapter Six
Much to the citizens of Las Vegas's relief, the school bus that exploded did not contain all of the children. There was only one fatality, and that was the little boy who was taken hostage by the suicide bomber. Due to the bus driver's quick thinking, there was an escape hatch through the floor, and the driver was able to pull the sewer grate out of the way and get the children and himself out of the bus safely.
It spared Nick the agonizing job of having to identify all of the children.
A few weeks had passed and the team, minus Sara still had not made any dents in their investigation. They didn't know who to look for, and an FBI profiler was called in to help narrow down the search for the type of people that would do such things.
Nick didn't know how to feel about the entire thing. Everyone had their ways of coping, but he couldn't find his. Between worrying about Sara, and trying to figure out what kind of deranged people were behind the attacks, he couldn't find any middle ground in his emotions. He didn't know whether to be scared or to be strong or what.
He met Grissom and Catherine in the break room.
"Hey," he said rather dejectedly. "How are you guys?"
"I'm okay," Catherine sighed. "Beside the fact that this case is driving me insane, I'm good."
"Grissom?" Nick asked.
Grissom was staring off into space. It was only when Nick spoke that he snapped out of his reverie.
"Oh, I'm fine I suppose," he said. "I just hate being about fifty miles behind a criminal."
"I hear you," Nick said as he sat down. "Where's Warrick?"
"He's on his way," Grissom said.
"How's Sara doing?" Catherine asked as she got up to fix herself a cup of coffee.
"She's improving," he said. "She's eating a little more, and taking care of herself, but she still hasn't spoken a word. The doctors told me that it may be a while before she ever talks again. He said it may take a little longer to begin communicating again, but as far as talking about what happened and what she saw the day of the attack, he said it may be years before she talks about it."
Catherine sighed and shook her head.
"I'm not trying to sound rude or anything," she started. "But we don't have that much time to wait on her. She's the only person who survived the front line of that attack."
"I tried to get her to talk, but she just turns away," Grissom said.
Catherine stirred her coffee vigorously trying to figure out their next move. As she did so, she felt suddenly dizzy and a painful cramp seized her midsection. She dropped her coffee and took in a sharp intake of breath.
"God," she gasped. "Ow."
Nick immediately came to her aid as she warily sat down into a chair, her face showing confusion at her sudden pain. Grissom had gotten up and gotten her a cup of water.
"Catherine, are you okay?" Nick asked.
"Yeah," she panted, trying to get over the pain.
Just then, Warrick walked in and saw Nick and Grissom huddled around her.
"Cath, what's wrong?" He asked as he kneeled in front of her.
"Just give me some space," she panted.
With that, all of the men gave her room to relax and take deep breaths. After a few more seconds, she was fine, and she shook her head.
"I don't know what all that was about," she said as she stood up slowly. She went over to the sink and grabbed some paper towels to clean up her spilled coffee.
"No, Catherine, I'll get that for you," Nick said, taking the towels from her. "Just sit and rest for a little bit."
Catherine sat back down, very perplexed about her episode.
"Maybe its stress," she theorized.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Warrick asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," Catherine insisted. "Please, don't fuss over me. It was probably just a cramp from not drinking enough water."
Warrick nodded.
Grissom didn't look quite so convinced though, and he gave a her his Grissom look, which she reflected.
"Don't worry about me," she said. "We've got suicidal and homicidal maniacs running around Vegas and you're concerned about me having an itty bitty cramp."
Grissom raised his eyebrow before helping Nick with the coffee.
Warrick still looked a little worried. Catherine gave him an insistent and pensive look that made him stop worrying for the moment.
"Come with me to go get some water?" Catherine asked as she stood up rather unevenly on her feet. Warrick had to support her a little bit.
"I'll go get it for you," he offered. "Your gait is a little off."
"It's my ankle," she said. "I swear if all of you don't stop poring over me like old ladies, I'll scream."
Catherine led the way out. Warrick was on her heels, a little peeved at her attitude.
"You know Cath, we're just trying to help," Warrick said as they went around to the vending machines.
"Warrick," she started, holding her hand out for some change. "There is a difference between looking out for someone and driving them insane."
Warrick took out a dollar and handed it to Catherine. She took it from him gratefully and she put it in the machine. When it took the dollar, she pressed the button for water. She had forty cents in change. Feeling suddenly hungry, she went over to the snack machines and bought a bag of trail mix.
"You hungry?" Warrick asked.
"Yeah, I haven't eaten lunch yet," Catherine said as she opened up the water and took a long swig. "This should tide me over."
As they made their way back over to the break room, Catherine nearly collapsed and Warrick caught her as she began to fall. She spilled the water and dropped the bag of trail mix. She used his broad shoulders to hold herself up.
"I don't know why I feel…" she fell against his shoulder, trying to support her weight.
She closed her eyes for a second to make the room stop spinning as she leaned against him. The cramping pain came again, and she gasped in pain.
"Ow," she sighed as she felt herself being ushered over to a bench. She put a hand over her abdomen and started breathing to make the pain go away.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," Warrick said.
"No," she said. "I'll be fine. I'm sure I just haven't been taking good care of myself."
The cramp subsided and she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
"I've made a mess again," she said.
"Don't worry about that," Warrick said. "Are you absolutely sure that you're okay? If not we can go to the hospital."
"I'm okay," she insisted. "I feel better already."
Warrick cast her a doubtful look.
"I promise you the next time this happens I'll let you take me to the hospital," she said.
"Do I have your word on that, or are you just trying to get me off your case?" He asked with a smirk.
Catherine looked up at the ceiling in thought then looked into his eyes again.
"Both," she quipped. The urge to kiss him was strong, but she resisted because she wanted their relationship to stay a secret and on top of that they were at work.
He smiled and helped her up.
Catherine and Nick were sent out with Brass to follow a lead they got from the profiler. The man lived out near the I-15.
He lived in a trailer park, the area was dusty and dirty looking.
"Hmm," Catherine said. "This should be interesting."
"Are you going to be okay?" Nick asked. "It's kind of hot out here-"
"Nick, leave me alone," Catherine said.
They approached the front porch of Tyler Bedhatch, an ex-SWAT operative and ex-con.
"I hate bad cops," Brass muttered under his breath as he rang the door bell.
"YEAH!" A deep voice shouted from inside.
"Las Vegas Police," Brass said back. "We're hear to ask you a few questions."
Catherine and Nick stood by, kits in hand, ready to go inside and look for any evidence of explosives, fire arms and the sort.
A tall, broad man with a thick mustache came up to the screen door.
"Who are you? And who are they?" He asked.
"I'm Detective Jim Brass with the LVPD and these guys are from the crime lab," Brass explained cordially. "Mind if we have a look around your…humble abode?"
Tyler looked between them for a second before opening his door.
"Sure," he said.
Nick walked in tentatively before Catherine did. She examined the cluttered home. There were stacks of newspapers that were knee high, clothes were piled on the couch, the TV was dusty, and the carpet was grainy with something or another. Seeing Tyler walking barefooted on the carpet made the color drain from her face. She willed her color back as they walked though the small trailer.
"Mr. Bedhatch," Nick said as he put down his kit. "Do you own any weapons?"
"No sir, I don't," he said as he crossed his arms over his muscled chest.
Catherine looked on his desk. There was an old fashioned typewriter and a small stack of an interesting newspaper.
She picked up a small gazette newsletter.
UTOPIA AMERICA CORPS GAZETTE. She couldn't bag it because it wasn't in the warrant. She made sure to look up the name later on in the shift. She put the gazette down and began to look through the book shelves.
Nick went back over to Brass.
"There's nothing here," Nick said. "He doesn't have a garage or any other storage place here."
Brass nodded.
"Thank you for your time," Brass said.
Catherine didn't notice all of the conversation as she stared at the pictures on the mantles.
"You have a daughter?" She asked, turning to him.
"Yeah," he said.
Catherine smiled faintly and then followed Nick and Brass outside.
"What do you think?" Brass asked.
"I kind of like him for it," Nick said. "Ex-SWAT, ex-con. He would know how to use explosives and weapons."
"I don't think he would have the balls to be associated with a group whose intention is to kill innocent children on a school bus," Catherine piped in. "He has a daughter. I don't think murdering kids is his style."
Nick noticed that Catherine was kind of spacey as she walked back to their vehicle. He knew how she was with kids, and she always hoped that parents were just as loving as she. She didn't want to believe that mothers and fathers were capable of harming their own precious children. As the cases involving children come, each one more senseless and violent than the last, her notions were contradicted.
Once again, Catherine gasped and clutched her abdomen.
"Damn," she growled. "I wish this would stop happening."
"What's the matter?" Brass asked.
"She's been having these weird cramps all through the shift," Nick said as he helped her get to the car. "Cath, do you want to go to the hospital?"
"No," she said. "It'll pass."
She stood in the same spot for a few seconds more before the pain went away. She straightened up again and then she made her way to the back to put her kit away. She could feel Nick and Brass's stare on her.
"I'm okay," she said even though she was a little shaken at not really knowing what was causing her cramps. She wasn't PMSing…it wasn't time.
She shook the thoughts from her head and got into the vehicle.
Nick was still worried about her, but he said nothing as he started the engine.
Catherine immediately went to Archie to look up some information on the internet.
"Are you okay Catherine?" He asked. "You look a little tired."
"Gee thanks Arch," Catherine said as she rolled her eyes. "You look sexy too."
He laughed as he searched for Utopia America Corps. Catherine took a seat next to him and waited on any hits. He scrolled through many names quickly and Catherine spotted what she was looking for.
"Stop," she said. "Go back up. Click on that link."
Archie did as he was told.
"Print out every last piece of information this site has and page me when you're done," she said before walking out.
Catherine hoped that she wouldn't run into Warrick any time soon because she knew that he would be upset about her not going to the hospital over her cramps. That is, if Nick told him about her episode, which she figured he did already.
Grissom had gone to visit Sara again so she didn't have to worry about seeing him for a while.
Unfortunately, she did run into Warrick, and he ushered her outside to the courtyard.
Warrick was a little perturbed, she could tell, but he wasn't angry.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry okay? I don't want you to worry about me."
"How can you say that?" Warrick asked. "I'm worried about you because I'm in love with you and I don't want you to get hurt or be in pain. You can't stand there and tell me that you're not in pain when you get those cramps."
"They are painful," she admitted. "But they go away in seconds. I understand that you love me, and I love you too, so much," she said. "But you can't protect me all of the time. If you spend all of your time worrying about me and-"
"Sweetie, you know full well what I mean," he said firmly.
She scowled at him.
"And don't make that face either," he said. "It's not going to work."
She scowled even deeper and crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest.
"Cathy, I just want to know if you're okay," he said. "You've never gotten cramps like these before."
"I'm okay Warrick," she insisted. "I know how to handle myself."
Warrick knew that he wasn't going to convince her otherwise so he resolved to pulling her into a hug.
Sara was sitting on the grass, fingering the flower that Grissom gave to her. She received it happily and she smelled it, then she began to play with it. She was in a pair of loose slacks and a tank top. Her hair had grown longer over the past month or so.
She wasn't as listless as she used to be, but she still had no desire to move around a whole lot. She still had a difficult time with staring-she would still become transfixed on an object and stare at it for hours, and it was very unsettling for some of the other patients. She was more responsive than ever to touches, sounds, and voices and she got herself up in the morning to shower and get dressed and do her hair. She was slowly liberating herself.
"I'll bring the rest of the team next time," Grissom started. "You look radiant. The doctors said you're doing better."
Sara did not face him, and he wasn't disappointed because he knew that she had a long way to go.
"Sara, I know that you're hurting from the attack," he coaxed. "But is there any chance that you want to write out what happened, or say one word to describe it?"
Sara did not move or say anything. She just continued to play with the flower that Grissom gave her.
She was still in that far away place; she was trapped in the cob webs of her mind and she sorted through it day and night, trying to make sense of what it was she was trying to accomplish. She was getting closer and closer to the memories of the attack, but it still seemed so far away.
She was aware that Grissom was with her. That was a start.