Issues by SLynn
Disclaimer: I own only the thoughts in my head and the characters you don't recognize.
Notes: Come on now, I wouldn't kill her! I like Amy to much to kill her; of course I liked Dr. Sanchez too. Seriously – sorry for the abrupt ending to the last chapter. I'd meant to post this one sooner but remembered by chapter naming faux pas and decided to revise the whole darn thing. I've made some wording changes to most of the chapters and posted them now, but nothing has changed content wise. I think it reads better now as a whole.
Oh, and this chapter easily the hardest to write so far. It got started four different ways before I decided on this, and then it still had about six different endings. I think it's ready now. It better be.
Chapter 20: Hope
Amy sat on the other side of the table from Brass biting her nails. She didn't normally, but couldn't stop right now. She had to do something with her hands or else they might never stop shaking.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" he asked.
It was the third time she'd been asked in under an hour. She was growing impatient with that question. Amy wanted to yell at him that she really just wanted to go home, but fought down that urge.
Instead she just said she was fine and left it at that.
She didn't look fine. She looked pretty beaten up. Her knee was throbbing and had bled through the denim. She had a pretty nasty looking gash across her forehead and a cut on her lower lip, neither required stitches. He could only imagine what her arms must look like, but couldn't tell because of the jacket she had clutched around her despite the relatively warm room. It was Stokes jacket. Brass could read the name tape clearly. Stokes who he knew was watching from the other side of the two-way mirror fuming. Not that Brass blamed him. He was pretty angry himself. But that wasn't what really concerned him. It was her neck.
Amy had tried hiding it from him, but it wasn't easy to do. Parts were already yellow and tinged green, but the majority of it was blue. Deep blue. She'd been unconscious but breathing when Bobby Dawson had run across her in the parking lot. By the time he'd gotten 911 on the line, she'd woken up. The EMTs had treated her back inside, where he'd taken her at Amy's insistence. They'd okayed her, but just barely. They'd really wanted her to ride to the hospital with them so they could check her out fully, but she really hadn't wanted to go. Brass didn't think it to look at her, but she was tough.
"Could you describe the attack?"
"Okay," she said softly, "I'd parked my car; I was late, almost one, so I had to park in the back lot. The garage was full already."
She stopped for a moment trying to set the details straight in her head.
"So, I um," she began again, tapping her fingers on the table top, "I locked it up and had my keys still out, walking towards the back entrance. I was putting them into my purse when I heard someone coming up from behind me."
Brass was writing down the details as she talked.
"It sounded like they were running."
"Was it jogging shoes or dress?"
It was the first time Grissom had spoken since they'd begun. He'd stayed out of the way until now, let Brass handle this, but it was important they got as much detail out of her now while it was still fresh.
"Dress, I think," she said after thinking it over. "It wasn't quiet, I could hear him coming. It had to have been dress because that's what most everyone wears to work and I remember thinking that someone must be later then me. That they were running because they were late, not…"
She'd trailed off and looked down at her hands again. They were clenched.
"So they ran up behind you," Brass started again for her.
"Yes," she nodded. "They knocked me into a car, like sideswiped me. I don't know whose car it was. It was blue, midnight blue, maybe a Toyota. I think I yelled, I'm not sure."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"No, he didn't. I'd fallen at that point and he grabbed me by my hair. He pulled me to my feet, still behind me. I never got a look at his face."
Amy had tears in her eyes now, was blinking rapidly trying to keep them from falling.
"I thought he wanted my purse, so I dropped it. I think I told him to take it, to just take it, but he didn't let go of me."
"Do you remember a smell, any details about the man at all?" Grissom asked.
"I don't. No, there was nothing. I'm not very good at this," she said with a false smile, no longer able to stop the tears from coming.
Brass offered her some tissues, which she took and wiped her eyes.
"Wait," she said suddenly, her voice stronger then before, "he was wearing gloves."
"You're certain?" Grissom asked again.
"Positive. I felt them. When he grabbed my hair, I reached up and tried to pull him off of me. I kicked him as best I could in the shins, but he wouldn't let go."
"Good," Brass said to her before continuing on.
As Brass had guessed, just on the other side of mirror Nick Stokes was watching and listening in. And he was fuming.
"How is she?" Greg asked quietly, Sara and him having just arrived. They'd already talked with Warrick and Catherine; they'd filled them in on most of the details and were now processing the scene of the attack.
"Okay," Nick said tightly, not looking back to either of them. Still listening intently at the conversation before him.
Amy was now saying to Brass and Grissom that she didn't remember the rest. That after being pulled up by her hair the next thing she recalled was Bobby kneeling next to her, talking to someone on his phone.
The three of them were now shoulder to shoulder at the mirror. Unblinking and unbelieving.
"She wasn't attacked, was she?"
By the tone of Sara's question, her inflection, they knew what she was getting at. Exactly what she'd been getting at.
They'd both turned at looked at her, horrified.
"No," Nick said firmly but it sounded to her ears as if he hadn't wanted to even consider it.
Greg subconsciously nodded his head in agreement with Nick. As if it wasn't even possible.
Sara thought they were both being a bit too optimistic. Too hopeful. Despite doing the jobs they did and knowing exactly what people were capable of, they'd refused the notion outright because Amy was involved. Of course, she wasn't exactly one to talk. She hadn't even been able to say it herself. Not out loud.
"How did you find out?" Greg asked Nick.
They'd gone back to watching the mirror.
Nick had been the one to call them, although he hadn't given them any details at the time. Just that Amy had been hurt and they needed to come in.
"Bobby was brining her inside. Found her unconscious in the parking lot. I was the first person they'd ran across inside."
Nick stopped talking abruptly, too angry to continue. Sara and Greg remained quiet, knowing that he just needed another minute or two to regain himself.
"Fucking security guards," he started again, bringing his fist down on the ledge as he'd said it "whole things on tape. Cameras caught it, but no one was watching when it happened."
He didn't get any further before Warrick joined them in the room. Sara and Greg turned towards him, but Nick just kept watching the exchange taking place on the other side of the mirror.
"What'd you get?" Sara asked, always straightforward.
"Not much. Got some blood on the ground and a nearby car where Bobby pointed out he'd found her. Probably Amy's. Her purse is missing, so it looks like it was just a mugging."
"That's bullshit," Nick mumbled under his breath.
"We did recover her keys," Warrick continued as if it hadn't been said, handing the keys over to Greg. He knew Nick wasn't angry with him, just the situation.
"But what happened?" Greg asked, starting to feel angry himself. Angry and helpless.
"Tapes show it all, it isn't pretty. The guy knocked her down, grabbed her from behind and…" Warrick stopped momentarily, clearly having a hard time with this as well. It wasn't everyday they knew the victim. "And shoved her face first into a car. She was out cold. He got her to the ground and then we can't really tell what happened next. It's out of the camera shot."
"We know what happened," Nick interrupted. "He almost killed her. You can look at her neck and see what happened next."
Sara and Greg each turned briefly back to the mirror. From the angle they were at they couldn't see it. Couldn't see the bruising so they hadn't known.
"After a minute or two we see the guy standing up, holding her purse and taking off in the opposite direction. Then Bobby's in the shot. The guy must have heard him coming and it scared him off."
"Did Bobby see him?" Sara asked hopefully.
"No," Warrick said with a shake of his head.
They could tell the interview was wrapping up. Amy was signing a statement now and looking anxiously around the room. Grissom and Brass had stood up and she followed suit although she clearly didn't know where she was going too next.
Warrick excused himself, knowing this wasn't his place and left to find Catherine. Greg, Sara and Nick went out into the hall to wait for them.
A few more seconds brought them out.
Brass and Grissom left together after thanking Amy again for her help, offering any assistance she might need and leaving her to the others care.
For a moment it was awkward and silent.
Finally Greg spoke.
"Amy there's easier ways going about getting a few days off."
Sara almost hit him. Would have hit him if Amy hadn't laughed.
"That's not funny," Sara said dead serious and staring at him in shock. Nick didn't look too happy with him either. But they both soon saw the look on Greg's face, the one that clearly said making a joke was his only option here. It was either that or he might cry.
But Amy had laughed and hugged him. Laughter of relief. If Greg was still making jokes she couldn't look that bad. It couldn't be that bad. It was reassuring. For the first time all night she didn't feel like such a victim. Like such a statistic.
"I need to get out of here," she said now, letting out a held breath and looking up and down the halls. Aware that everyone was looking her over and really getting a feel for how Greg must have felt this entire year. "Can someone take me home?"
"I can," Nick volunteered immediately.
Sara and Greg didn't object. Nick wouldn't be happy until he saw her safe, and he wouldn't think she was safe unless he was there making sure of it himself. They'd walked with them out to the garage not really talking but keeping each other company none the less.
Amy thanked them quietly for coming, the awkwardness resurfacing momentarily. She hugged them both goodbye and they promised to check on her in the morning and made her promise to call if she needed anything, no matter what the time. She'd agreed too, but knew she wouldn't be taking them up on it. She just wanted to put it all behind her. Forget it if she could.
Amy sat back in Nick's jeep, staring out the passengers' window and hoped that was possible.