One Of Us 3/?
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TWO HOURS LATER:
Forced out of the exam area and away from Greg's side by female medical staff, Catherine clung to Nick, dozing off and on as they huddled together in the waiting area. The group now attending to Greg was simultaneously gathering evidence of his assault, replacing his empty IV with a fresh one and preparing him for transfer to a private room upstairs. He had remained silent and utterly still throughout all the procedures, sunk fathoms deep in a world of his own making; a world not even Catherine had been able to entice him out of, though she had tried until her voice nearly deserted her.
"I'm sorry." she rasped, wincing slightly at the ache in her raw throat.
"For what?" Nick asked quietly, gazing down at his co-worker.
"I'm usually stronger than this. I've never been somebody who just.. falls apart at a moment's notice."
"Moment's notice? How long were you in there, an hour, hour and a half? And we were here for a good half hour before that. You've barely cracked in all that time. You need to break a little, you go ahead an' do it." he reminded her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he slowly, soothingly slid that hand up and down over her bicep, hoping to encourage her to drift off again, but she would not give in to his ministrations.
"You were wrong, you know."
"Wrong about...."
"Greg. He won't stay like this. I got this sense.... I really think he heard everything I was saying, but wherever he went... he feels safer there than here. He'll come back. He just isn't ready yet."
This comment nudged Nick's mind onto somber pathways and, despite knowing he should try to keep the mood positive, he felt the need to voice his troubled thoughts.
"The poor guy.... I can't even try to imagine how scared he musta been. I keep thinkin'... hopin' that whatever peaceful place he's hidin' in now, he made it there before it got too bad for him in the real world...."
Just then, Doctor Denson walked up to where the pair sat with a sheaf of papers in his hands. Praying for any hopeful news, Catherine immediately lifted her head, but the look on the physician's face was anything but cheerful.
"What is it? Is Greg okay?" Nick demanded.
"He'll be stiff and sore, but as I said, physically he'll recover with rest and time."
"Are those the lab results?"
"Yes. There's only one piece of major news to report, really."
"Good or bad?"
"Both." he said, taking the seat across from Nick and passing him the paperwork. "The good part is that he probably won't ever remember the attack. The bad part is the reason why he won't remember."
As he read the tox-screen report, Nick's eyes darkened slightly and his anger, faded over the course of hours, resurfaced abruptly. Unable to speak just then, he merely handed the sheets to Catherine, rose and paced a few steps away. When she, too, made the discovery, her face went stark white.
"GHB. Somebody.... he was drugged..... "
"Heavily. More than we normally see in these cases, at least."
"They were desperate to cover their tracks. Will he... what about side effects, reactions...."
"If any were going to show up, I have to believe we'd have seen them by now. There's no guarantee, of course, but, medically, I think I can safely say he's out of the woods. I'm sorry that this is the best news I can bring you at the moment."
Returning, Nick touched he doctor on the shoulder briefly and gave him a grim smile.
"It's okay. You gave us somethin' to work with. Can we keep those reports?"
"Of course. I have the originals. If you need extra copies, just let me know."
"We will. Thanks again, doc."
"No problem."
The moment Denson was out of sight, Nick, visibly trembling with anger he could no longer contain, strode to the nearest wall and slammed his fist into it twice before Catherine could reach him and grab his arm.
"Nick, no! Stop! He said Greg is okay..."
"We don't know that! Some tests take longer, Cath, you know that as well as I do. It could take as much as a week before they know if...."
His point hit Catherine like a punch in the stomach, but she shook it off and continued to try and calm and reassure him.
"No. We can't think like that. The HIV test will be negative. I won't believe anything else." she told him, stroking his arm and hand gently to encourage him to uncurl the fist and let her look at his injury. Too tired to protest, he turned and leaned against an undamaged section of wall, closing his eyes. The first touch of a finger made him flinch and hiss loudly. "Feels like you broke a couple bones."
"Figured... that'll happen when flesh meets lath and plaster. Stupid...."
"Slightly. I can't blame you, though. I've been wanting to do that ever since I saw Greg.... only it wasn't a wall I wanted to hit."
"Didn't look much like a wall to me.... I can't work this investigation, Cath."
"Somebody's got to. It'll be hell for all of us, but...."
"No... you don't get what I'm sayin'. You know my history. I told you about what happened to me. If I have to see the slime that hurt Greg.... if I even have to be in the same room, I'm afraid of my stuff gettin' mixed up with the case. If I lose it an' hurt one of 'em.... it'll screw any chance of them payin' for what they did."
"That's a long time off, Nicky. We haven't even started yet. Right now, you have other things to worry about." She teased lightly, gazing at his bloodied hand.
"Yeah, like the fact that rage temporarily shuts off the male brain." he chuckled, wincing again as she placed his wounded left hand into his right.
"Trust me, anger makes idiots of both genders equally. Stay here, okay? I'll go find somebody to fix that."
Nick nodded and shifted his gaze to the makeshift room where Greg lay. "I won't kill 'em, buddy. I won't even hurt 'em. Not 'till after they're convicted anyway.... then all bets are off."
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AT THE CRIME-SCENE
"Sara. Sara? You with us?"
"Huh? Yeah... yeah, I'm here, Warrick."
"Okay. I know focus isn't the easiest thing in the world right now, but..."
"Focus isn't a problem. I said I'm here, mind and body."
"Then gimme a prelim."
"No extensive bruising. No visible dents or defects in his head. The body looked positioned, not natural. They'll spot any fractures in post, but with the roof being eight stories up, I doubt that's where he came from."
"Yeah, I gotta agree. One theory down, eight-thousand to go."
"Not necessarily." She corrected, holding up a small plastic evidence bag. He took it from her and examined it closely with his flashlight.
"Tinted glass?"
"It was all over him. I pulled samples from his hair, his ears, his clothes..."
"Tinted glass like from car windows."
"That's what I was thinking, but if it is, whoever was driving wasn't about to stick around."
Gazing back and forth from the parking lot to the placement of the body on the grass, Warrick frowned.
"You got a tape measure on you?"
"Yeah, sure. What's up?"
With Sara holding one end, Warrick took the other and walked to the edge of the lawn that faced the parking lot.
"Thirty-five feet. And I don't see any tire damage on the grass." He called back to her, making a thorough search. "You think a car could've tossed him that far?"
"Possible, but not likely. And he wouldn't have ended up flat on his back, arms at his sides."
"So he was hit, then dumped?" He posited as he strolled back, rolling up the tape and handing it and the evidence bag back to her.
"Could be. We won't know till we get him back. Hey... how long have we got left on shift?"
"Two hours."
Crouching by the body with a camera, Sara sighed heavily and ran a hand over her face.
"I really hate this. If I didn't know Grissom would kick my ass...."
"Nick and Cath are strong. They can hang in. Besides, Greg's not critical. He's hurt... but he'll be okay. We got work to do here."
"I told Gris I want in on the investigation. I mean.... God, Greg's like my little brother."
"An annoying, freaky kid you think you'll never completely understand?" Warrick joked gently. Sara laughed and swiped at an errant tear with her sleeve.
"Sometimes.... but he's family. Nobody hurts my family without payback."
"Trust me, I'll be right beside you. For now, though..."
"I know, I know. Pictures."
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TBC....
-----------------
TWO HOURS LATER:
Forced out of the exam area and away from Greg's side by female medical staff, Catherine clung to Nick, dozing off and on as they huddled together in the waiting area. The group now attending to Greg was simultaneously gathering evidence of his assault, replacing his empty IV with a fresh one and preparing him for transfer to a private room upstairs. He had remained silent and utterly still throughout all the procedures, sunk fathoms deep in a world of his own making; a world not even Catherine had been able to entice him out of, though she had tried until her voice nearly deserted her.
"I'm sorry." she rasped, wincing slightly at the ache in her raw throat.
"For what?" Nick asked quietly, gazing down at his co-worker.
"I'm usually stronger than this. I've never been somebody who just.. falls apart at a moment's notice."
"Moment's notice? How long were you in there, an hour, hour and a half? And we were here for a good half hour before that. You've barely cracked in all that time. You need to break a little, you go ahead an' do it." he reminded her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he slowly, soothingly slid that hand up and down over her bicep, hoping to encourage her to drift off again, but she would not give in to his ministrations.
"You were wrong, you know."
"Wrong about...."
"Greg. He won't stay like this. I got this sense.... I really think he heard everything I was saying, but wherever he went... he feels safer there than here. He'll come back. He just isn't ready yet."
This comment nudged Nick's mind onto somber pathways and, despite knowing he should try to keep the mood positive, he felt the need to voice his troubled thoughts.
"The poor guy.... I can't even try to imagine how scared he musta been. I keep thinkin'... hopin' that whatever peaceful place he's hidin' in now, he made it there before it got too bad for him in the real world...."
Just then, Doctor Denson walked up to where the pair sat with a sheaf of papers in his hands. Praying for any hopeful news, Catherine immediately lifted her head, but the look on the physician's face was anything but cheerful.
"What is it? Is Greg okay?" Nick demanded.
"He'll be stiff and sore, but as I said, physically he'll recover with rest and time."
"Are those the lab results?"
"Yes. There's only one piece of major news to report, really."
"Good or bad?"
"Both." he said, taking the seat across from Nick and passing him the paperwork. "The good part is that he probably won't ever remember the attack. The bad part is the reason why he won't remember."
As he read the tox-screen report, Nick's eyes darkened slightly and his anger, faded over the course of hours, resurfaced abruptly. Unable to speak just then, he merely handed the sheets to Catherine, rose and paced a few steps away. When she, too, made the discovery, her face went stark white.
"GHB. Somebody.... he was drugged..... "
"Heavily. More than we normally see in these cases, at least."
"They were desperate to cover their tracks. Will he... what about side effects, reactions...."
"If any were going to show up, I have to believe we'd have seen them by now. There's no guarantee, of course, but, medically, I think I can safely say he's out of the woods. I'm sorry that this is the best news I can bring you at the moment."
Returning, Nick touched he doctor on the shoulder briefly and gave him a grim smile.
"It's okay. You gave us somethin' to work with. Can we keep those reports?"
"Of course. I have the originals. If you need extra copies, just let me know."
"We will. Thanks again, doc."
"No problem."
The moment Denson was out of sight, Nick, visibly trembling with anger he could no longer contain, strode to the nearest wall and slammed his fist into it twice before Catherine could reach him and grab his arm.
"Nick, no! Stop! He said Greg is okay..."
"We don't know that! Some tests take longer, Cath, you know that as well as I do. It could take as much as a week before they know if...."
His point hit Catherine like a punch in the stomach, but she shook it off and continued to try and calm and reassure him.
"No. We can't think like that. The HIV test will be negative. I won't believe anything else." she told him, stroking his arm and hand gently to encourage him to uncurl the fist and let her look at his injury. Too tired to protest, he turned and leaned against an undamaged section of wall, closing his eyes. The first touch of a finger made him flinch and hiss loudly. "Feels like you broke a couple bones."
"Figured... that'll happen when flesh meets lath and plaster. Stupid...."
"Slightly. I can't blame you, though. I've been wanting to do that ever since I saw Greg.... only it wasn't a wall I wanted to hit."
"Didn't look much like a wall to me.... I can't work this investigation, Cath."
"Somebody's got to. It'll be hell for all of us, but...."
"No... you don't get what I'm sayin'. You know my history. I told you about what happened to me. If I have to see the slime that hurt Greg.... if I even have to be in the same room, I'm afraid of my stuff gettin' mixed up with the case. If I lose it an' hurt one of 'em.... it'll screw any chance of them payin' for what they did."
"That's a long time off, Nicky. We haven't even started yet. Right now, you have other things to worry about." She teased lightly, gazing at his bloodied hand.
"Yeah, like the fact that rage temporarily shuts off the male brain." he chuckled, wincing again as she placed his wounded left hand into his right.
"Trust me, anger makes idiots of both genders equally. Stay here, okay? I'll go find somebody to fix that."
Nick nodded and shifted his gaze to the makeshift room where Greg lay. "I won't kill 'em, buddy. I won't even hurt 'em. Not 'till after they're convicted anyway.... then all bets are off."
-------------------------------------
AT THE CRIME-SCENE
"Sara. Sara? You with us?"
"Huh? Yeah... yeah, I'm here, Warrick."
"Okay. I know focus isn't the easiest thing in the world right now, but..."
"Focus isn't a problem. I said I'm here, mind and body."
"Then gimme a prelim."
"No extensive bruising. No visible dents or defects in his head. The body looked positioned, not natural. They'll spot any fractures in post, but with the roof being eight stories up, I doubt that's where he came from."
"Yeah, I gotta agree. One theory down, eight-thousand to go."
"Not necessarily." She corrected, holding up a small plastic evidence bag. He took it from her and examined it closely with his flashlight.
"Tinted glass?"
"It was all over him. I pulled samples from his hair, his ears, his clothes..."
"Tinted glass like from car windows."
"That's what I was thinking, but if it is, whoever was driving wasn't about to stick around."
Gazing back and forth from the parking lot to the placement of the body on the grass, Warrick frowned.
"You got a tape measure on you?"
"Yeah, sure. What's up?"
With Sara holding one end, Warrick took the other and walked to the edge of the lawn that faced the parking lot.
"Thirty-five feet. And I don't see any tire damage on the grass." He called back to her, making a thorough search. "You think a car could've tossed him that far?"
"Possible, but not likely. And he wouldn't have ended up flat on his back, arms at his sides."
"So he was hit, then dumped?" He posited as he strolled back, rolling up the tape and handing it and the evidence bag back to her.
"Could be. We won't know till we get him back. Hey... how long have we got left on shift?"
"Two hours."
Crouching by the body with a camera, Sara sighed heavily and ran a hand over her face.
"I really hate this. If I didn't know Grissom would kick my ass...."
"Nick and Cath are strong. They can hang in. Besides, Greg's not critical. He's hurt... but he'll be okay. We got work to do here."
"I told Gris I want in on the investigation. I mean.... God, Greg's like my little brother."
"An annoying, freaky kid you think you'll never completely understand?" Warrick joked gently. Sara laughed and swiped at an errant tear with her sleeve.
"Sometimes.... but he's family. Nobody hurts my family without payback."
"Trust me, I'll be right beside you. For now, though..."
"I know, I know. Pictures."
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TBC....