Issues by SLynn
Disclaimer: I own only the thoughts in my head and the characters you don't recognize.
Chapter 32: The Zoo
Sara peeked into the waiting room looking for them. Sure enough, on the far couch were Nick and Amy. It was a quarter after three, but they were still there. Amy curled up on the couch with her head in Nick's lap; Nick with his arm draped around her waist, awake but staring blankly at the television nearby.
His eyes shifted back into focus as Sara came towards him.
"He up?"
"Yeah," she nodded, sitting nearby "the on call doctor is checking him out right now. You want to go see him?"
Nick nodded briskly before leaning down to Amy, whispering something in her ear which Sara couldn't quite hear and then kissed her lightly on the temple. Amy stirred, looked from Nick to Sara in one fluid movement.
"Greg?" she asked; her voice a bit scratchy from the sleep.
Sara smiled and nodded and the three of them stood to go.
"He's in some pain," Sara was explaining, "so he can't move a lot. They couldn't give him half of what they should have because of all the drugs in his system."
"How much does he remember?" Nick asked, stopping Sara before she opened the door.
"A lot I think. I've already told him about Fenton."
"What about the rest?" Nick asked.
Sara just shook her head.
Nick nodded, looked at Amy as she squeezed his hand and Sara opened the door.
Nick managed a smile as he saw him, but it wasn't easy. Greg's left arm was in a cast, he was still hooked up to the oxygen and IV, and truth be told, he looked a little green.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, coming right over next to him.
Greg smiled back, weakly. He'd always liked that about Nick, he never hovered in the door like most people would. Just walked right in, unafraid.
"I've been better," he answered in a hoarse whisper.
The doctor who'd been in had told him to only speak when necessary. That they'd pumped his stomach, something he thankfully could not recall, and that it would take a few days for his voice to get back to normal. In addition, the blood he'd been coughing up for the last few days was caused by an ulcer. All the additional meds Dr. Fenton had been pumping into him during his sessions had started eating away at the lining of his stomach. Nothing too serious fortunately, it just needed time to heal.
"Hi Greg," Amy said, trying the whole smiling thing out for herself, but it looked pained. She looked like she might cry. Greg motioned her closer.
"See Amy, this is how to get a day off. If you're not in the hospital, they just think your faking."
Amy laughed despite herself. Greg always made her laugh, it was a gift.
"Everyone would be here," Nick said, pulling up a chair, "probably will be here soon, but there was a lot to do back at the lab. The place is a zoo, they called in everyone. All three shifts."
Greg looked over at him with interest.
"Ecklie tried to take over the case, sending Cath on a rampage. The swings supervisor swept in and told them both off, said since you were involved that neither of them should be. That they were too close to it."
"They're all that eager to fire me?" Greg asked, somewhat amused and somewhat disturbed. He really was expecting a pink slip after this incident.
Nick clammed up as Sara gave him a look. He'd said too much and he knew it. He'd only been trying to keep Greg occupied, but had picked the wrong topic.
"What?" he asked, looking to Sara. "Have I been fired?"
"No," Nick assured.
"Then why such a mess?" he asked. He thought he understood why Cath would want it; she'd protect him if she could.
"Thanks Nick," Sara said as she crossed the room and picked up the remote. "This is why."
Greg looked to each of them, confused, as Sara flipped on the set mounted on the wall. After changing a few channels, she left it. Put down the remote and sat down gently at the foot of his bed.
"Nick at night?" he asked, trying to figure out what was going on..
"Just watch," Sara instructed.
"….Dr. James Fenton, forty-two. He is believed to be responsible for at least nine deaths over the last two years in the Las Vegas, Nevada area. Circumstances surrounding his death have not yet been released…"
"So it made the news," Greg commented, talking over the young anchor woman on the television. "That's… "
He stopped cold. Eyes glued to the screen.
"Why am I on television?" he asked, forgetting to speak softly, his voice cracked from the strain.
"…the home of Gregory Sanders, twenty-nine, a crime scene investigator assigned to the case…"
There was no mistaking it was him. It looked like his most recent badge picture from the lab. And then there was Sara, up on screen as well as they talked about her now.
"Turn it off," Greg ordered as he began coughing. He didn't want to see any more.
Sara hit the button and screen dimmed. Amy poured Greg some water for which he quietly thanked her. His head was spinning.
"So," he said looking at Nick and then Sara. Trying hard to be positive, "how long before this blows over? Before the locals get tired and go back to gambling."
Again, Sara looked at Nick like she might just hit him.
"Do I even want to know?" he asked sounding seriously upset now.
"That wasn't local," Nick answered.
Greg motioned for Sara to hand him the remote, which she did reluctantly. He immediately flipped it back on. They'd moved on to something else, but Greg saw now that it was indeed CNN. Surfing a few channels up, he found Fox News. They'd just finished repeating it apparently; Greg saw his face momentarily on the screen. It was the same everywhere. Before he could turn it off, he saw that MSNBC had a live shot of what looked like the very hospital he was in. Frustrated, he turned it off.
"Oh God," he muttered, starting to cough again. "My parents, did someone tell my parents?"
He was picturing the shock they were in for if they'd seen him on the news.
"Griss called them, they're on their way here," Sara answered.
She'd talked to them too, not long ago when Greg got out of surgery. She wasn't about to tell him right now that his mother was in near hysterics.
"Are they really outside?" he asked.
"Yeah," Nick answered this time. "I'm sorry man. It's pretty big news. Cath and Warrick finally got into his house; he's been doing this for years. I know the news said nine victims, but it's going to be a lot higher then that."
"Do you think I could have a minute?" Greg asked, running his good hand through his hair. "Collect my thoughts and all." Mentally he added, 'enjoy my last moment of privacy.'
"Sure man," Nick said getting up. "All the time you need."
Amy waved goodbye as Nick took her by the hand, giving him a small smile and feeling terrible. Sara rubbed his leg as she stood to go as well.
"Wait," he said, reaching out for her.
She turned and came back.
"I know it's me up there," he said indicating the T.V. "but it's you too. How are you handling this?"
"I don't know yet," she said running her own hand over his head, "I haven't really had time to think about it."
In truth, she was really just an afterthought in the story so far. The news programs were only showing her picture now because they didn't have anything else. An official statement wasn't being released until the morning.
"It'll be alright," she said, "it'll die down in a few days."
"I hope so."
Warrick and Catherine could hardly believe it.
The lab had been frightening enough; Nick hadn't exaggerated when he'd called it a zoo. With every CSI called in on duty that night, there had been more then one territorial stand off. Having lost the fight to continue on with the case to Ecklie, they left around seven to go and see Greg.
It was like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Cameras were everywhere, cordoned off a hundred feet from the entrance, but still madness. Reporters, guessing mostly from their attire why they were there, screamed questions at them. It had been hard to ignore, to just keep walking.
"Insane," Catherine mumbled as finally made it in.
"Tell me about it," Warrick agreed.
"Excuse me," a security guard stepped forward and stopped them. "Only family and authorized visitors allowed right now."
"We're with the crime lab," Catherine said, pulling out her credentials. Warrick followed suit.
The man took them both, examined them, and handed them back efficiently.
"You here to see Sanders?" he asked, looking down at his clipboard.
"Yeah," Warrick answered. There was something about his tone he didn't like.
"Sixth floor. Room 604."
He stepped aside and let them pass, Warrick turned round briefly, watched him another second before continuing on to the elevators with Catherine.
"He's just overworked Warrick," Catherine said once they'd gotten inside.
"Like Greg wants this," he mumbled.
Catherine understood his frustration. None of them wanted this. Scratch that, Ecklie was loving the attention. No one in their right mind wanted this.
They made it up to his room, passed one more security guard. Apparently some less scrupulous members of the press had tried to get in that morning.
It wasn't surprising to find Nick, Sara and Amy all there with him.
"Hey Greg," Catherine said, glad to see him up and smiling. "How are you feeling?"
"Surreal," he answered holding up the newspaper he had in his lap, "like maybe they gave me too many pain killers and I'm having hallucinations."
"Then I wouldn't suggest a stroll outside any time soon."
Greg laughed. There was no fighting it at this point; he'd just have to roll with it.
"Where's Griss?" Nick asked to Warrick.
"Picking up Greg's parents at the airport."
Greg nodded, glad for it.
"What's it say?" Warrick asked, leaning over to take the now offered paper from Greg's hands.
"Not much," Greg said, "just the basics. Nothing specific, although depending on what you read or watch, I'm everything from a level two CSI to an undercover cop. The truth was probably too boring."
Warrick let out a chuckle and Catherine smiled. They could both easily tell he wasn't really happy about this, that he was laughing and making jokes because it was all he could do. His eyes looked concerned, worried about what the media was going to print next.
Right now, they almost made him sound heroic, but that would change. It would change as soon as they found out Dr. Fenton had been his psychiatrist, that he was on anti-depressants and that he'd threatened to kill himself last year. Throw in his relationship with Sara and his battle with cancer and it was a Springer special waiting to happen.