Title: 13 women, part two: that day
Author: Welly
Fandom: CSI
Pairings: Nope
Spoilers: slight references to 'stalker' and 'play with fire…'
Series/sequel: Sequel to 'woman number thirteen', number two (of three) in "13 women"
Email:
Archive: if you really want to, but I would appreciate it ever so if you could tell me…
Disclaimer: I have no imagination, so I borrowed these characters. If you want them back, get in touch, I don't want to be doing anything illegal.
Summary: well, it sort of carries on (kind of) from the first story, you'll see when you read it. It's like it's the first story written from a different perspective.
Suzie Vasquez had had a long day at work. One of the other nurses had called in sick, so Suzie had had to pull a double; by the end of it, she was knackered. Suzie looked at her watch. 10pm. She might actually be able to catch some sleep before she had to get up and go back to work.
Al came into the staff locker room. "Are you still here?"
"I'm just leaving," said Suzie.
"Good," said Al. "You look terrible."
"I feel terrible," smiled Suzie. It was true. Suzie thought she'd caught something from one of her patients, but, working in an ER, she had no idea which one.
"Go home," said Al. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Yeah," said Suzie. "Will do."
Suzie shut her locker, and slung her bag over her shoulder. As she left the hospital, she took out her ipod. Suzie was into her music in a big way. She began to hum to Hoobastank's new song, and started down a deserted road near her house. It was a short-cut, and though it was in the middle of nowhere, it was well lit. As the song changed from Hoobastank to Audioslave, Suzie heard footsteps. She looked around, saw nobody, and figured she must be imagining it. She was very tired, and was really looking forward to getting home.
Suzie never made it home.
Greg Sanders woke up late. He did not hear his alarm clock go off. Greg shoved some bread in the toaster, and went for a shower. Once he'd showered (in half the time it usually took him) he got dressed, buttered his toast, grabbed his keys, and left for work, eating his breakfast on the way.
When he got to work, he clocked in, and met Grissom in the DNA lab. Greg looked at his watch. "Am I late?"
"No," said Grissom, smiling. "I'm early."
"Oh," said Greg, pulling on a lab coat.
"I have that CD for you," said Grissom, holding up a CD case.
"Wow!" said Greg, taking the CD, and quickly scanning the track list. "Thanks Grissom."
"That's alright," said Grissom. "Oh, and don't worry about playing this too loud. The louder the better."
"Grissom!" said Greg. He was shocked. It wasn't like Grissom to encourage Greg to play his music loud.
Grissom smiled. "I'll see you later."
"Uh huh," said Greg.
Grissom left the room, and Greg hunted for the CD player. He found it in a cupboard, and remembered that the batteries were flat. He left the DNA lab, and went down the hall to the AV. "Hey Archie, you got a spare plug in here?"
Archie looked around his little lab. "Nope. Sorry."
"thanks," said Greg. He decided to go to ballistics next, he knew Bobbie wouldn't be using all his sockets.
"I do have a spare socket actually," said Bobbie. "Why?"
"I need to plug in an extension cable," said Greg.
"Do you have a cable?" asked Bobbie.
"Yup," said Greg, waving an extension cable.
"Give it here," said Bobbie, climbing under his desk. Greg handed him the plug, and he plugged it in. As Bobbie climbed out from under the table, he hit his head. "Son of a-"
"Ouch," said Greg. "Y'alright?"
"Yeah," said Bobbie, rubbing his head. "Stupid desk."
Greg smirked.
"It ain't funny," said Bobbie.
"Sorry," said Greg, still smiling.
"Just go and put your music on," said Bobbie, cracking a grin himself.
Greg unwound the extension cable all the way back to the DNA lab. He found it easier if he walked backwards, and got the strangest look from Franco in the print lab. Greg put the CD in, and started his work. He was looking under a microscope, and listening to Mussorgsky's Night On A Bare Mountain, when Sara came into the DNA lab. Greg didn't notice her, he was strangely enjoying the CD Grissom had lent him. Sara tapped Greg on the shoulder. Greg jumped. "Whoa, Sara, don't do that!"
"Sorry," said Sara. "You busy?"
Catherine and Warrick were in the break room drinking coffee.
Grissom came in.
"What's wrong?" asked Catherine. She had this way of reading Grissom like a book, and she knew when Grissom was worried, when he was really worried. This was one of those times. Grissom was worried about a member of his team. Catherine had seen this look twice before. Once, when Nick was being stalked, and again when Sara and Greg were hurt in the lab explosion.
"Sidle and Sanders are missing," said Grissom quietly.
The fact that Grissom was using Sara's and Greg's last names worried Catherine. She knew what Grissom was doing. He was really worried sick about his two CSIs, and if he used their last names, it would help keep him more detached, more neutral.
"Missing?" asked Warrick.
Grissom nodded. "There's a search party, I want a CSI out there."
"I'll go," said Warrick.
"So will I," said Catherine.
"Thank you," said Grissom.
"Do you think we should be looking in the river?" asked Warrick.
Catherine looked at Warrick. She was thinking the exact same thing, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. "Yes."
Warrick and Catherine headed down to the river's edge, and were joined a few seconds later by Brass.
"Catherine, Rick."
"Jim," said Catherine and Warrick in unison.
"Did you two hear that?" asked Warrick.
"Hear what?" asked Catherine.
Warrick suddenly ran off.
"Warrick?!" said Catherine.
Brass pulled out his gun, then he and Catherine chased after Warrick.
Warrick dived into the river to help Greg. He struggled with the man who'd forced Greg into the river, and managed to prevent him from tying the rope off. He then continued to struggle with this man.
Brass spotted the other man running away from the river, and immediately chased after him, yelling. "Stop! Las Vegas Police!"
Catherine pulled Greg out of the river. She untied the rope from around his neck, and ripped the duct tape form his mouth. She untied the ropes around his wrists, but she didn't know that Greg had been wearing a blindfold, as that had come off when Greg fell into the river. "Breathe, Greg."
Greg didn't move.
Catherine could still hear Warrick splashing around in the river, but right now, she was blocking it out. The only thing she was concentrating on was Greg.
Catherine rubbed Greg's chest, to try and motivate him to breathe.
"Come on Greg," she said. "don't do this to me, dammit."
Greg suddenly spat out a load of river water, and gasped. Catherine smiled, and pulled Greg in close. His skin was freezing cold to the touch. "It's okay Greg," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure that he could hear her. "It's okay."
By now, several other police officers had arrived. They helped Warrick catch the man in the river. They pinned the man to the ground, pulled his hands behind his back, and handcuffed him.
Another police officer approached Catherine, who still had her arms wrapped protectively around Greg.
"Can you call for an ambulance?" asked Catherine, quietly.
"Yes ma'am," said the police officer, unclipping his radio from his belt.
Catherine looked down at Greg.
He looked asleep, his eyes were closed. Catherine thought about how peaceful Greg looked, but she knew that inside, Greg was not peaceful. Catherine tried not to imagine the hell he'd been through that night.
"Catherine," called out Warrick.
Catherine looked over to Warrick, who was stood on the river back. Catherine looked at what Warrick was looking at.
Sara was dead.
Catherine wanted to tell Warrick to pull Sara out of the river, but she knew that they had to follow proper protocol. They had to ignore the fact that Sara was one of them, the fact that Sara was their friend, and process this scene properly.
Grissom was sat in his office, drinking some coffee. His cell phone was lying on his desk, he'd told Catherine to phone him if they found Sara and Greg, when they found Sara and Greg.
Catherine came into the office.
"Catherine!" said Grissom. "You're back!"
"Gil," said Catherine, sitting down. The whole of the journey from the river to the lab, Catherine had been searching for the right way to tell Grissom, the right words to use, but she could find none. There was no 'right' way to tell Grissom. "Gil," said Catherine. "Sara's dead."
Grissom swallowed hard. He'd guessed by the way that Catherine walked into the room that something very bad had happened.
"Gil?" asked Catherine.
Grissom didn't know what to say. He was in shock.
Eventually, he decided that for the time being, he had to put his feelings on hold, and act professional. "What about Sanders?"
"He's at the hospital," said Catherine. "That's actually where I was heading."
"Yes," said Grissom. "Someone should really be with him right now. Who's at the scene?"
"Warrick," said Catherine.
"I should go out and help him," said Grissom.
"Gil, I don't think you should-"
"You're right," said Grissom. "But someone has to go, and I don't want to send Nick."
"Then I'll go," said Catherine.
"No," said Grissom. "Catherine, you need to be with Greg. I'll go and help Warrick."
"You sure?" asked Catherine.
"Yes," said Grissom.
To be continued…