Precious Things by SLynn
Spoilers: Up to 'Nesting Dolls'
Rating: R for violence and disturbing content
Disclaimer: Not mine – well, some are mine, just not the ones you recognize.
Chapter 6: Shaking
The shower was hotter then he normally ran it filling the room with steam.
Greg wasn't even washing really, more like standing there in an ever increasing pool of water. The drain was slow. Water was now up to past his ankles but he didn't care.
Turning round he glimpsed Sara through the gap in the curtain. She was at the sink, facing the mirror but not looking at him. The steam was now so thick he couldn't make out what she was doing.
The water was getting deeper.
Turning back around he knelt down to examine the drain. The tub was half full, something had to be blocking it. Had to be. Maybe he'd inadvertently tripped the stopper.
"Sara," he called, "I think we may need to call a plumber."
Greg peaked over his shoulder but Sara was no longer at the sink. Instead she was beside him, just on the other side of the curtain.
"Honey?" he asked growing uneasy.
Placing one hand on the faucet for balance Greg reached forward to pull back the curtain. His hand was shaking for some reason, something it rarely did now. Only when he was angry or upset. Or scared.
The tub was full. Overflowing.
This wasn't right.
Before he could pull it open, it was ripped. Pulled off its rings and thrown to the floor. There was no time to react. Greg was pushed off balance as hands flew to his throat. It was all happening so fast. He tried to fight but couldn't. Arms and feet swung wildly as he tried to hold himself up and defend himself all at once. It wasn't working.
Greg was forced under the water. Forced down by a set of hands he remembered. It was as if his body could no longer move. He was falling. Falling further through the water then was possible. The tub had grown impossibly deep. Looking up he saw a watery silhouette over him. The face was indistinguishable as he slipped further and further down, completely immobile, but he knew who it was.
Lungs screaming, mind racing, there was no longer any light. It was all dark and weightless and he wasn't alone. Arms bumped into his. Legs, feet, hands all touching him in turn. There were other people down there with him and they were whispering his name. Calling out for help and he couldn't do anything for them. He couldn't even help himself.
The voices were getting louder and he tried to get away.
Struggled to move but couldn't.
Struggled to breathe…
"Greg, Greg…"
"Greg," Sara called again, louder now.
She'd seen his nightmares before but they'd never been this bad. His thrashing about had woken her. His screams frightened her. Now, she couldn't get close enough to even wake him. He moved as if he was fighting off someone.
As best she could she pinned his arms with her hands just above his elbows, shouting his name now hoping to get through.
Greg's eyes flew open as he gasped and panted. Sara eased up on his arms and sat down beside him, her eyes were wide and waiting.
His whole body was shaking and she hesitated. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms but Greg didn't look like he knew where he was yet. He didn't seem awake despite the fact that his eyes were open and searching the room.
His breath hitched in his throat, came out ragged, but he finally took in her gaze. Sara didn't hesitate any longer.
Pulling him to her in one quick motion she held tight. One hand ran smoothly through his hair as the other wrapped around him and ran up and down his back. She whispered things like 'it's over' and 'it's okay' and other things she wouldn't recall hoping he believed her.
At first he didn't respond, remained slack in her embrace. Slowly he came round, responded to her touch and her words. Wrapped his own arms around her and buried his head into the crook of her neck.
He was still shaking.
Greg and Sara didn't sleep the rest of the day and they didn't talk about it either.
Greg was glad when Warrick called the house at two telling him to come down to the station for an interview with Cynthia Haas' parents. He needed to get out of there. To be doing something.
He hesitated slightly going into the bathroom and if Sara noticed she hadn't said anything. Greg realized almost instantly he was being stupid as it dawned on him that the bathroom from his dream wasn't the one from his house. It was from his apartment. Their house had a standalone shower and detached tub, completely different. Still he made it a point not to waste any time getting in and out again.
As he got dressed Sara sat on the edge of the bed watching.
"Maybe you shouldn't go," she hazarded.
Greg shook his head and kept tying his shoes.
"Nick and Warrick will both be there," she continued.
"I'll be fine," he said quietly.
"Please."
Sara was beside him now, eyes full of worry, arms draped around his neck. Greg turned to her with as much of a smile as he could muster and put a hand on her cheek.
She was only startled for a moment to find his lips on hers. Hungrier then they'd been even that morning. Needy and wanting to be needed in return. He pulled back from her seconds later and she felt cold from his absence.
"Ask me later," he said as he stood to go.
There was nothing else. No 'goodbye'. No 'I love you'. Just that, but she'd known what he'd meant.
Nick and Warrick had both beaten him there. They'd also both taken one look at him and tried to send him home. Greg wasn't going.
"Okay," Brass said coming into the interview room, "Four is too many. Who's staying in with me and who's out back?"
"I only came to observe," Nick said stepping back.
"Still to many," Brass said looking from Warrick to Greg.
"I'll sit out," Greg said knowing that was what Brass wanted to hear.
Brass nodded his approval and left to bring them in. Nick and Greg left Warrick in the room for the adjoining one behind the mirror.
"You look like hell," Nick commented.
"You're one to talk."
Nick repressed a smile. He knew how he looked. He'd lost weight, still felt drained but he wasn't about to take the bait. And he'd known Greg long enough now to know when he was fishing for a fight.
Being spared the need to respond by Brass' return, Nick instead watched the scene before him. Greg did the same, only more intently. He needed something to focus on. Something other then his own nightmares that kept popping back into his head.
"Mr. and Mrs. Haas," Brass was saying just on the other side of the glass, "this is Warrick Brown from the crime lab."
Introductions were made and they soon all settled before them.
"When is the last time you saw your daughter Cynthia?" Brass asked.
"Friday night," her mother answered, "when she went to bed. I guess it was around eleven."
Her husband nodded beside her, taking her hand into his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Did she leave a note? Any indication that she'd run away?"
"We fought," the woman admitted with a sad smile, "We fought a lot. She'd run away before, we thought that this time was no different. She usually stayed at a friend's house for the weekend and was back again a few days later. We called the police, filed a report. They said that there was nothing they could do until she was missing twenty-four hours."
"When did you file the report?" Brass asked, knowing the answer already. He'd already pulled it up and reviewed it prior to the interview.
"Sunday morning," spoke the husband for the first time.
The interview continued on in this fashion for several more minutes. Brass and Warrick began to get a feel form them. The Haas' were obviously distressed but answered everything with firm composure.
"We're going to need to take a DNA sample from both of you," Warrick was saying now, wrapping it up.
"For what?" Mr. Haas asked now, his voice no longer as soft as it had been throughout.
"To rule you out," Warrick answered while searching his eyes.
Mrs. Haas was already nodding her head in agreement and after a moment of silent deliberation, Mr. Haas did as well.
Warrick got hers and then his, lingering a minute on the man.
"That's a pretty nasty scratch," Warrick said looking down at the man's left arm.
"Yeah," he answered, nearly stuttering over his own words, "I got it in my workshop."
"How?" Brass asked point blank.
"Ran up against some wood."
Brass nodded and Warrick said nothing. They were gone shortly thereafter, Brass accompanying them out.
"You see that from back there?" Warrick asked both Nick and Greg as they rejoined them in the interview room.
Nick nodded.
"His left arm, three long scratches," Greg said really more to himself, "skin under her right fingernails."
"Yeah," Warrick agreed, "I'll get these to the lab. See if we got a match."
Warrick left without saying anything else other then goodbye.
"You headed home?" Nick asked as they too left the room.
Greg nodded and walked with him down the hall before casting a suspicious look his way.
"How'd you get here?"
"Amy dropped me off," Nick said as they reached the lobby. "I was just fixing to call her."
"Don't bother," Greg said, "I'll drop you off."
"Are you sure?"
Greg just gave him a look that said he was being stupid.
"Thanks man," Nick said as they headed out towards Greg's car.
"Don't mention it."
Nick didn't live far and with some minor pestering Greg came in for a minute once they'd arrived. He looked bad and Nick was worried.
Amy was on the couch reading when they came through the door.
"How did it go?" she asked rising as they came in and giving Nick a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Not bad," Nick answered, "we may have a suspect."
"Hey Greg," Amy said throwing a smile his way, "thanks for giving him a ride."
"It's nothing. No point in dragging you out again. Next time call me first, I'd have stopped by on my way."
"Thanks but I hope there isn't a next time," Nick said sitting down in the kitchen. "This sling should be off by the end of the week."
"Do you want something to drink?" Amy asked the both of them.
"No thanks," Greg said joining Nick at the table.
Nick smiled and shook his head, raising his eyebrows slightly.
"Alright then," Amy said catching Nick's subtle hint, "I'm going to go lay back down."
Amy left after giving Nick one more kiss and ruffling Greg's hair as she walked past.
"You do look like hell," Nick said once more.
"I know," Greg agreed. No point in side stepping it.
"What's going on? Really Greg, what is it?"
"It's this case," he answered simply.
Nick nodded knowing there was more but not knowing how to get it out of him.
"It's getting to me too."
Greg looked at him, questioning the validity of that statement. Nick had never said anything like that to him before and he wasn't sure if he believed it.
"It is," Nick repeated, "I'm not sleeping right, I can't think about anything else. I just keep thinking that if I'd only reacted sooner, if I'd only reacted at all."
Greg stayed quiet.
"And now, there's another girl dead," Nick continued sounding sad, "and it just seems so avoidable. We could have caught this guy by now if I hadn't wrecked that scene."
"You didn't wreck the scene," Greg said as something like a laugh escaped him. "I wrecked the scene."
Nick was shaking his head at him.
"Greg, I know I blacked out but I'm pretty sure I'm the one who bled all over the evidence."
It was Greg's turn for denial.
"Nick, there wasn't anything else you could have done. You talk about reacting, I should have reacted sooner. Should have done something."
"She caught you off guard, it happens."
"Yeah it does," Greg agreed and Nick saw what he was getting at, "but it happens more to me then you. Besides, it was me she was there for. My fault."
Nick looked at Greg and finally saw it. Saw what was wrong behind his eyes. Saw his friend slipping backwards without being able to do or say anything to stop it. He'd seen it before and had vowed that next time would be different.
'This time', he thought to himself, still scrutinizing the man opposite him.
Shaking his head once more he told Greg the only thing he could.
"It's not your fault."
He knew Greg didn't believe him. Couldn't. The depression wouldn't let him.
