Blindsided
Chapter Two
Sara opened her eyes then quickly closed them to block out the sun. Was it time already? She didn't want to wake up yet. She felt around her for the alarm clock, the loud buzzing was giving her a headache. Oh well, she would have to be late, she decided as darkness took over.
A few minutes later, well, it seemed like a few minutes later, a gust of air and dust woke Sara.
Huh? She tried to sit up but was unable to. She slowly opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of the nightmare awaiting her. She was not at home but outside, somewhere, stuck to a - actually something she was laying on.
In a painful flash, everything came flooding back. DB in steakhouse, Grissom flirting with her in cellar, she's at the door - "BOMB...SARA OUT!"
Oh God! She didn't make it out…No, she was outside now.
Oh God! Grissom didn't make it out.
He's still in there!… Most of it was all flat now.
He needs help. She had to help him.
But she couldn't get up. Someone strapped her down to the - what was she strapped to? She wondered as the buzzing in her ears became deafening. She was tired already and she didn't even get up yet. She'd never make it on time at this rate. Man, she hated when she got tangled up in her covers.
'You need to rest more, Sara' She heard a voice saying in the back of her mind.
Oh, Grissom was telling her to rest - so he must be okay. She would rest a few more minutes then she would get up and go to work.
"Oh shit!" Nick said.
"That's an understatement." Brass added as the dust began to settle on the wreckage.
"I think I'll go check around. Maybe they got out the back?" Nick questioned hopefully.
"Maybe. But be careful, this is a new crime scene."
Nick simply nodded and jogged away.
Brass turned at the sound of screeching tires. Catherine and Warrick jumped out and ran over.
"Oh my God!" Catherine said staring at what she assumed used to be the steakhouse. "Did they find them?" She choked tearfully.
"No one yet. The fire department just got here."
"They where all in there?" Warrick asked disbelievingly.
"Grissom, Sara and the officers that where securing the scene."
"Nick?" Catherine whispered.
"Around back, he -uh - he's in shock."
Nick couldn't believe this was happening. It was like some fucked-up dream that he woke up in. He swiped tears away angrily as he studied the scattered debris. Dodging the firemen, he rounded another corner of the building then stumbled to a stop.
"Sara!"
He rushed to Sara's side as she lay face up against some of the wreckage. "Oh God, Sara."
With a shaky hand, Nick reached over to check for a pulse.
She jolted awake, her eyes flying open at his touch.
"Jesus! Sara you scared me!"
"Nicky?" Sara said trying to focus but his face was swimming.
"I'm here." He soothingly pushed back the hair from her face.
"Wait, don't leave me here. Help me up." The ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear him but she didn't want him leaving without her.
"Sara, we should wait - okay, let me help." He gave in when she began struggling on her own.
"I'm stuck." She surmised, feeling dizzy now. She must have hit her head, probably a concussion.
Nick frowned then stepped back. They way Sara was leaning, on what appeared to be part of a door; she could only stay in that awkward position if she was...
"Sara, hang on a minute."
He swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed away her government issued Forensics jacket. What the hell? Blood was seeping from her, staining her white cotton shirt. He moved closer then slowly lifted the hem of the garment.
"Sweet Jesus! Jesus Christ!" Nick cried as he stumbled back. "Help! I need help! I need a medic! There's an officer down over here!" He screamed in the direction from where he came.
"Nicky?" Sara called. What was wrong with him? "Nicky come back and help me!"
She struggled forward a little more then stopped abruptly as a wave of pain and nausea washed over her and she felt wet. Leaning forward slowly to check herself out, she gasped out loud. Blood was now pouring from a wound where a foreign object was protruding from her side.
Grissom lifted his head and groaned. Gagging immediately, he covered his mouth trying to stop the heavy smoke and dust from filling his lungs. What in the hell happened? Oh right - there was a bomb! God! He prayed Sara and the cops made it out.
He tried to see around him but he was left in pitch darkness. For sustaining a bomb blast the storage room had held up pretty well. He supposed anyway since he was still alive and not a pancake. The owner must have been really serious about storing his beef. Grissom began a systems check for any injury. A concussion was a definite possibility. He felt around and everything else was fine until he got to his legs. Something was pinning them down and he would bet money that one of them was broken. He tried to remove the heavy object, a beam of some sort, but he didn't want to add a hernia to his list of current ailments.
Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be walking out of there, he called out several times. No one answered but he was rewarded with several more mouthfuls of dust. Can you say black lung? He wondered if anyone thought he survived or would they just focus on a recovery mission as opposed to a rescue operation.
Sara would be upset. Grissom smiled, not because she would be upset but because he knew she would never rest until she saw his body. He sighed heavily in regret. There were so many regrets. After the corrective surgery for his hearing, he had planned to make things right between Sara and him. To be socially inept, he thought he was doing pretty well - but Sara wasn't picking up on his cues. The whole guy/girl thing was harder than he thought. Maybe he should just be more direct. How about: Sara, would you like to have dinner with me then head back to my place to relieve ten years of sexual tension?
Yeah, he probably had a concussion. Sara was a straight shooter, but he couldn't imagine her appreciating that line. As a matter of fact, she'd probably kick his ass. Then again, that might not be so bad.
Outisde…
Nick was furious. "What the hell is taking so long? Do they want her to bleed to death?"
"Easy, easy." Brass put a calming hand on his shoulder. "With impalements like these, it's best to leave the object there - let the surgeons handle removing it."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nick knew that already. "It's just, she hasn't moved in like forever."
They watched as the firemen used the 'jaws of life' to cut away at the metal that bound Sara. Trying not to jostle or injure Sara further on the unstable surface made their progress slow and tedious.
"With pain like that, man it's better for her to be out." Warrick said trying to allay Nick's fears as well as his own. "What I don't understand, is why they're not digging for Grissom yet."
Grissom woke again to the sound of heavy machinery. Good, they were coming for him. He shifted slightly to relieve his aching muscles. Where did all the air go? Damn, -if he'd have known that his lungs would end up looking like a furnace filter he would have at least smoked that fine Cuban cigar he was offered a few weeks ago.
The constant moan and groan of the collapsed building was unnerving in the darkness, so Grissom tried to focus on something pleasant. Sara
He wondered again if she was safe. Hopefully, she had made it out to the truck to suit up before the building blew. And what in the hell was so important that someone needed to blow up a building to cover a stabbing in a steakhouse? Christ, what happened to good old fashioned arson? Was bomb making a required reading now?
Grissom reached up to his neck to take his pulse. He needed to settle down. The last thing he needed was to increase his breathing and suck in more dust. Right. Happy thoughts. Now, what can I think about to distract me from the fact that I'm trapped in the basement, pinned down by a beam that if I move it (like I could anyway) would probably send the remains of the building crashing down on top of me, crushing me to death? Although, I'll probably die anyway from the lack of oxygen and even if I'm lucky enough to get out of here, I'll probably need a lung transplant and have to walk around carrying a portable oxygen tank - that's if I can walk from the damage from these beams…Okay, that didn't work. I'll just think of Sara.
