Implied Connections
Chapter 21 – Deafening
By: Braidless Baka
Disclaimer: Don't own CSI, blah blah blah – You guys know the drill
Thanks: Many, many thanks to RainbowsnStars and KrazyKid197. Also Sally, for reminding me it's almost a month since I updated - Sorry 'bout that.
A/N: Okay guys. I'm posting this chapter, mostly to get the message out – I have not forgotten this story. It's almost finished. I'm sure my betas think I've fallen off the face of the planet… After this chapter there will be no updates until at least July. I have big exams until the end of June, and there's no way I can revise and write at the same time. So, sorry, but this is goodbye for a few (more) months.
A/N2: Argh, ff.net hates me... sorry about the rubbishy formatting before - it's not displaying sqiggles, underscores or hats... which sucks...
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Forests, Grissom realised upon getting there, were huge places. It was all very well, narrowing it down from a worldwide search to just a woodland one. But just whereabouts in Tonopah were Rachel and Greg? Search parties were almost certainly out of the question, she'd told him to come alone. And he was about as alone as it gets.
He looked about himself quietly, trying to judge what he should do next. A flock of birds took off from above him suddenly, with a clattering flap of wings and a few shrieks of surprise. Then a rustling in the branches above him as some mammal scurried away. And insects. There were lots of insects. And, for the first time in his life, Grissom was annoyed by them. They were only diverting his attention from things that mattered. Things like: where should he go next?
After another moment's contemplation the CSI stepped forward, the action decisive. He had to start somewhere, and there was no way he was waiting for the cavalry. Rachel Simmons was a woman on the edge – there was no telling what she might do, given enough time or motive. He had to get to her first.
Then, suddenly, a movement! Sharply Grissom turned, his eyes searching. This wasn't a small animal. It sounded different, almost as though it were intended.
"Gil Grissom, my, my. I didn't think you'd come."
Again he turned, trying not to betray his fear as Rachel stepped out from behind a tree, having been watching him for several minutes. He watched her for a few seconds before speaking. "You wanted to talk to me?"
She nodded; making sure the gun in her hand was clearly visible. "Yes, that's right."
It was a game, Grissom realised. There was no way she was going to tell him straight out, she was the one with all the trumps. He didn't know where Greg was, and thus he'd be a captive audience until she chose to tell him.
Or not, as the case may be.
"Then talk," he said, his voice quiet. "I'm listening."
She smiled a little, then looking down almost bashfully. Like what she was going to say was an embarrassment. "You miss Greg, don't you? That's the only reason you would be here. You don't want me to kill him?"
Silently, Gil shook his head.
She smiled at that. "Speechless?" She paused, seemly gloating in her apparent victory. Then, after a moment she continued. "You know what I miss? The thing I miss most of all?"
"Nigel Bell."
She turned to face him sharply, and Gil could tell by the look on her face that she hadn't expected him to know. Then, she regained her composure and said calmly, "Yes, I miss him. But I can't have him back. And do you know why?"
The reply was matter of fact, as Gil cautiously watched her begin to circle him. It was almost a predatory action. "Because he's dead."
"Yes!" she spat. "Yes, he is dead! He's dead because of people like you! Why should I give you back what you miss? Why?!" Her voice was getting more hysterical with every word she spoke, but then she seemed to realise it, her tone softened suddenly. "Why should I?"
"It's not a CSI's job to decide guilt. Our job is to present physical evidence. We didn't kill Nigel Bell. A jury convicted him."
"But he was innocent!"
Grissom didn't flinch as she took a step towards him. He then replied evenly, "How can you be so sure?"
The silence in the small clearing was deafening. Somewhere in the distance a bird called and another replied. Light dappled around them as they both stood, silently, waiting for Rachel's reply.
"I just know."
"But you can't know. Not unless…"
She suddenly met his gaze, her blue eyes furious. "Unless what?"
"Unless it was you."
Her eyes narrowed then, the hand holding the gun coming level with Gil's chest as she took another step towards him, quietly, as though the whole world was watching. "And what if it was?"
"Then you're a woman with nothing to lose. Not even your soul."
She nodded, her blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders. The movement was vigorous, as though she'd finally found someone who understood her. "That's right. Now you understand. I can't be caught. He died so I could go free."
"You won't go free Rachel." Grissom's voice was gentle, finally bracing himself to take a step towards her.
"Not another step!" she shrieked, reinforcing her aim with the gun, now holding it with two hands. "Don't come near me!"
"We have people who can help you."
"I've never heard anyone speak so much shit in a single sentence, do you know that?!" The laugh that accompanied the statement was a loud and grinding sound. "You think anyone can help me!?"
Steeling himself, Grissom took yet another step, his aim being to get the gun off her. 'You're no good to Greg if you're dead,' his mind warned him. 'I'm no good to anyone if I don't do something,' came the stern reply.
"Just give me the gun Rachel." The words were gentle. Almost soothing. Entirely devoid of anything resembling expression or tone.
She watched him for a moment, seeming to weigh up the options. Then stepped decisively towards him, brandishing the weapon and finally pointing it at his chest, pressing it against his jacket. The cold of the steel penetrated the jacket and his shirt beneath it, a small freezing circle over his heart. But he didn't flinch, he couldn't. If he flinched he would die anyway. More importantly, Greg would die.
"Whether or not I give you the gun won't change the outcome, Grissom," said Rachel, her words stern. "In a way, it's sad. I always know how these things are going to end. I already know who's going to die, who's going to live in eternal damnation, and who's going to die through no fault of their own." She smirked a little, curling her finger around the trigger a little harder. "What about you? Do you ever know how it's going to end?"
"No." The word was quiet.
"Don't you ever even try to guess? It must be obvious?"
"Never."
She pondered this for a few seconds before nodding gently, her gaze never leaving Grissom's own. "Well, let me show you."
The gunshot in Tonopah was deafening.