The arrival to the ER was like some wild Hollywood movie, filled with tension and urgency. The ride to the hospital had somehow kept Nick awake. The addition of freezing ice packs around different areas of his body had indeed agitated the man. The CSI fluctuated between frightened pleads to be let go to more hostile outbursts. He was too weak to be a physical threat to anyone, but that didn't mean his distress didn't affect the graveyard supervisor.
Grissom, despite exhaustion and his own pain, made his way inside the ER room. Nurses and doctors barked at him to leave, but he stubbornly remained.
The head physician, Mike Wilkins, didn't want to waste time with the stubborn criminalist. He looked over at one of his residents. "I'm in charge here, sir. You need to get looked at now. Now I don't have time to argue."
A young female started to escort the supervisor away. Gil protested.
Dr. Wilkins looked over his shoulder. "Take him to the next room." He locked yes with the older CSI. "Its only a few feet away, you can see and hear everything going on." He explained.
The head of the ER brought his attention back to his patient as he demanded to know the bullet. Frank and his partner undid the restraints long enough to transfer Nick to another gurney, and then refastened his arms, torso, and legs for the safety of everyone involved in his care.
"We've got a Caucasian, Male, 32. Injected overdose of an unknown amount of PCP and Mescaline about 7 hours ago. He's vomited twice, been in and out of conciseness, exhibited erratic behavior. Pulse's 75, BP 70/56." Frank rattled off the first set of problems.
The staff had effectively removed the rest of Nick's jeans and replaced the now empty IV bag of with a new one.
The lead paramedic continued. "Patient's body temp is 104.5, down a degree after cooling in the field. We suspect heat exhaustion or even heat stroke. Mr. Stokes was left in an unventilated warehouse for the past several hours, also exhibits symptoms of ARDS. Victim is a law enforcement officer who has been kept under duress."
The medic wanted to make it known they were dealing with a criminalist who had been victimized and not some guy messing around with drugs for kicks.
Dr. Wilkins nodded and went into action. He barked out orders as he prioritized the treatments. "All right folks. Lets get a foley catheter in," the doc looked over at one of his nurses. "Keep an eye on his output. I want a chest X-ray, Head CT, Arterial Blood gas, CBC, PT, aPTT, fibrinogen & platelet count."
The head physician looked over at one of his students. "What other tests am I missing?"
A short red-haired man responded. "Electrolyte count, BUN and creatinine, Blood glucose, CK, and Urinalysis."
Dr. Wilkins looked up. "Very good."
A flurry of nurses started lines to get some of the needed counts, while others made arrangements to get portable radiology carts inside to take the needed scans.
Dr. Wilkins took out his stethoscope and started listening to Nick's chest, noting heavy sounds of fluid build up in his air sacs.
Nick slowly became more agitated as he tried to thrash about the gurney. All the bright lights were too intense for him. He couldn't get away from the hot white flash that bored through his eyelids, burning the very inside of his skull. All the voices around him floated in and out, making him even more dizzy.
"Goddammit, lemme go!" he screamed through his oxygen mask, his voice cracking from anxiety and fear.
Nick pulled the straps on his arms fruitlessly. He had regained some feeling in his limbs, but they were still sluggish. The frantic CSI knew he had been stripped of his clothes for some unknown reason, and feeling exposed to all the flurry of strangers was beyond the terror of any kind of pain. His fractured thought process was violently interrupted when he felt a pain rip through a part of his body that he never thought could be exposed to such an assault.
"Foley's in," a nurse called out. She looked at her patient with sympathy when he screamed.
"Let's start him on 10 MG of Diazem," the head doctor leaned over the frightened man. "Mr. Stokes, we're going to give you something to calm you down, so we can work on helping you."
One of the residents injected the sedative, and the hysterical man slowly ceased his wild movements. His eyelids fluttered and they finally closed as the full effect of the drug relaxed him.
"What's his O2 levels?"
"Sats are at 85," one if the older nurses replied.
One of the younger med students looked over at Wilkins. "What do we treat first, sir?"
"We'll start with an endotracheal tube. We need to treat his respiratory distress."
"What about gastric lavage?"
"No use," Wilkins replied. "Lavage only works if the drug was ingested." He eyed the student, who dropped his gaze in embarrassment. First year students should've known that.
Grissom, who had been taking in all the medical drama, let his voice be heard. "I'll need copies of all of his tests for evidence." The criminalist inside him was still alive and well.
The female resident who was inserting the man with his own IV explained to him. "No problem, sir." She continued to try to examen the man, who strained to watch all the goings on just a few away.
"Back to the patient people," Wilkins gruffly stated. "Get me a cooling blanket and some fans; we've got to get his temp down before he fries out his system. I want 5 MG of Mannitol; let's try to keep his kidneys from shutting down too, shall we?"
Nurses returned with a cooling blanket while the med students hooked up the fans in an attempt to cool off the overheated CSI. In the meantime, the female resident inserted the Trach tube down Nick's throat.
A breathing ventilator was rolled in, and an unconscious Nick was hooked up to give his overtaxed lungs a break from working on their own.
Nick was the center of the ER for the longest ten minutes of Grissom's life. Warrick and Brass had made it to the hospital and worriedly stood outside, as they were told not to enter the overly crowded treatment room.
The head doctor got some of his x-rays done, and was awaiting his rushed lab results. His top priority was to get the heat stroke under control. The physician concentrated on lowering Nick's body temperature, as well as getting him the much needed fluids and electrolytes.
One of the nurses came rushing in with more lab results. The doctor snatched them up and scanned the contents.
"All right, we're definitely dealing with PCP and Mescaline. Let's get 25 MG of Thorazine on board and 10 MG of Zipragidone." The doctor looked over at his students. "All right children, what are the reasons for this treatment?"
A young Asian man shot back his answer. "Anti psychotic and anti hallucinogenic drugs to treat the OD," he replied.
Dr. Wilkins grinned. "Nice to know some people pay attention to toxicology." The head physician gently grabbed Nick's wrist and studied his injured right hand.
"Once we get the rest of the tests done, let's get some X-rays of this mangled hand."
The head of the ER growled to himself. This man had been put through the ringer, big time. He stepped up his resolve and set to work and hoped that the CSI would not be a shell of his former self when all was said and done.
Warrick stood motionless outside the ICU unit. He gazed thoughtfully at the closed doors, and sighed as he looked at his watch for what must have been the 20th time. Eight hours. Too much time since they had arrived at the hospital. He really hated these damn places. Soft foot steps echoed down the linoleum floor and Warrick looked up to see the Captain approach.
Brass carried two cups of coffee, and handed one of them to his colleague. The taller man accepted the offered item and sipped on it, his eyes still glued to the ICU doors.
The detective blew on his hot beverage and exhaled a heavy breath. "I just talked to Gil."
Warrick looked at him with interest. "How's he doing? Last I checked he was fighting the nurses over his enforced rest."
Jim shrugged. "He slept for a few hours; right now he's signing paperwork to be released."
Warrick's mouth twitched. "He's pretty banged up."
Jim worked his jaw. "Nicky worked him over pretty good, but he'll be okay. He was dehydrated, but after a few bags of fluids he's doing better. He looks worse then he seems, but he does have a broken collarbone." Brass sighed. "Hell of a thing."
The criminalist growled low in his throat. Catherine and Sara were over at the little compound going over the scene. Jim had just gotten back from his first round of interrogations, with only a handful of news.
Jim nodded towards the subject of all of their thoughts. "How's Nicky doin'?"
Warrick rubbed the back of his neck. "He's hooked up to a breathing machine and still unconscious. His doctor is in there now."
Brass snorted humorously. "Kid's got a shitload of drugs in him."
Warrick shook his head. "They have him doped on all sorts of stuff, trying to combat that PCP cocktail." Once again the anger he'd kept such tight control over swelled inside. "Did that creep cop to it yet?"
Jim tilted his head. "Nope. He's still mumbling about faith and religion. But one of his little cronies spilled the beans. Mr. Santo admitted that the whole idea was to get Nick so high on that poison that he'd just kill Gil, and then they knew the heat would take care of Nick. All they'd have to do is clean it all up in a couple'a days."
The CSI eyes filled with contempt. "Well, it won't get them off the hook for attempted murder and assault."
"In their view, if Gil and Nick 'failed' their so-called tests, then their conscience would be clear. Sounds like Jorge Carlos has done this thing before. We might have him on several more murder charges soon enough."
Both men turned at the sound of Gil Grissom's purpose-laden steps. When he got closer, both his friends kept their comments on his appearance to themselves. The whole left side of his face was dark blue, morphing into an uglier black. He had his arm in a sling, and still walked a bit stiffly. He looked pretty battered, but he at least seemed a bit more rested.
The supervisor stopped in front of the duo, his eyes wandering over to the closed doors. "Have you been in there with him?"
Warrick nodded. "Yeah, I was kicked out just a few minutes ago. But I'll get back in my chair as soon as the doctor's done."
"What have they said?" Grissom asked.
Warrick's expression was grim. "He'll be on that vent till tomorrow and they want to kept him snowed under till then. When he wakes up, he's got to stay in there. The room's to remain dark, and he'll need constant monitoring for the aftereffects from the drugs."
Grissom let this information sink in. The supervisor had been so exhausted after the whole situation he never had a chance to talk to his coworkers. "How did you guys know where to find us?"
Warrick grunted. "You didn't give us much to go on... but we found your notes. Sara and Catherine went to the pharmacy, where they found Nick's truck."
Gil encouraged the man to continue with his expression.
"They suspected foul play, and began processing the scene. With you missing as well, the three of us guessed both of you were taken. I suspected that Nick went to look for you, and being the bullheaded guy that he is, didn't tell anyone."
Jim snorted. "I thought it would be best to stake out the pharmacy. Catherine and Sara stayed there thinking it was the best place. Then 'Rick showed me this little known place out in the desert from your case files. I sent a few of my guys over, who reported back a ton of strange activity. We got a team together, I took Warrick with me, and after seeing those yahoos transfer their little crates of goodies, we decided to proceed."
Grissom's 's face clouded over. "How long were you guys there?"
Brass looked a bit hesitant. "We staked it out for over an hour. We had to get documented evidence. One of the crates slipped out of their hands. With bricks of drugs spilling all over the place, we got all the proof we needed."
Grissom stood silently.
Not liking the direction this conversation was heading, Jim licked his lips. "When do they think Nick'll be released?"
Before Warrick could respond, the doors opened and Dr. Wilkins walked out. The physician waved them away from the ICU room and further down the hallway.
The trio followed him and silently waited as the doctor adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Stokes seems to be doing well on the ventilator. I'll wean him off in the morning."
"How is he doing otherwise?" Warrick interrupted.
The gruff physician sighed. "It's only been a few hours. We've brought his body temperature down with evaporate cooling using tepid water and fans. He's almost back to normal, around 99.9°F. He's been completely rehydrated, and as far as we can tell he did not suffer any permanent kidney, liver, or heart damage."
Grissom nodded, relieved about that aspect of treatment. "What about the overdose?"
Dr. Wilkins shrugged. "After he's off of the ventilator and there are no signs of complications, we'll see if psychiatric care is indicated. He may require transfer to a short-term psychiatric unit if his psychosis is not under adequate control."
Grissom's mouth twitched. "You think that's a possibility?" he asked in hushed voice.
Dr. Wilkins shook his head. "I don't know, Mr. Grissom. I can't predict anything... I'll seek consultation after he wakes up."
Gil looked at the physician. "I want to see him."
The doctor's expression turned apprehensive. "You can go for a very short time now, but when he wakes up, I don't want you in there."
Jim and Warrick gave the man a cold stare, while Gil looked at him sharply.
The doctor held his hand in the air. "Look, I know the both of you went though a very horrible thing, but I don't know what state of mind Mr. Stokes will be in."
"Exactly why I'm going to be there," the supervisor reasoned, his voice firm.
"Have you seen yourself in the mirror, Mr. Grissom?"
Warrick and the Captain both looked visibly uncomfortable, while the entomologist looked down at himself, a bit puzzled. "So?"
"Who knows what he remembers from his ordeal. Whatever recollections will most likely be disjointed, and very traumatic. I know that people under the influence of PCP are not responsible for their actions, but what will he think when he sees the shape you're in?"
Gil shifted uncomfortably. "It wasn't his fault, he was very sick." Even to his own ears, the CSI knew that the physician had a point.
"Even if he's over his psychotic behavior, we still have to worry about depression and destructive thoughts. I think it would be best if you stayed away." The doctor shrugged. "A qualified psychiatric physician will determine his mental and emotional stability before clearing you to visit."
The doctor's pager went off. "I have to go. I'll be sure to keep you apprised." Dr. Wilkins gave the group a sympathetic look before he departed down the hallway.
TBC...
Author's notes:
Thank you for allthe extensive feedback on the last chapter. The newest one is focused on the more medical aspects of the story. I am by no means a person in the medical feild.at all. This whole story was based on research and wonderful feedback by my knowledgeable beta. If anything is wrong, this is indeed fiction, but much research was involved. Thank you again for such inspired support, it indeed makes a writer happy!
MS2-
He's getting better. Thank you for the continued support.
Shoebe-
My cheeks are pink. Thank you again. This chapter required a set of charts to get accurate! But I love it so. I really enjoy the realism, would not be as much fun to write.
Staresp4cat-
Jorge will get his dues. I think afterwards Nick understands that the EMTs are just trying to help. Thank you again.
Msquirrell-
I just put Nick through his paces. But thank you again!
Sarah-
thanks. Have fun on your trip!
sokerfreak-
As long as this website does not collapse every week, the updates are soon! Thanks again!
Designation-
Thanks! The line from Brass came very natural! As far as the research that was done..I hope it fairly accurate. Thanks again!
wolfwood-
Those are the best compliments. I don't know if I could write anything that did not involve some research. Why take the time to write if you don't get informed? Big smiles!
Poncholives-
Nice to see some CSIFiles people. thank you again. There are some good writers here, just look for them! Nice seeing you here.
CL-
The whole concept of this story was to see if I could write Grissom with Nick. Your response means a lot. It would be very difficult for Gil to admit he hit Nick, but it was his only defense. Thank you again!
Amarawind-
Girl don't feel awkward at all! It makes be feel happy that you are enjoying the story as much as you are! Its one of the reasons I try to write so much in advance so I can update as soon as possible! I feel he's our "Nick " as well!
shadowind-
All in one sitting Wow! Thanks! Glad its only 8 chapters! heheh.
Peekaboo-
After reading your comments I really am interested in your response to this chapter As a non medial person, I hope it rings true. Your feedback means lot!
Wonky-
Why thank you! This has been a load of fun to write and I feel I have learned a lot in doing so.
Rozzy-
Well, this story is kind of winding down. I felt there was only so much emotion I could put our beloved characters through as well as the reader where it just got to the point of crossing the line. Thank you for such helpful comments. I always look forward to what you have to say. I have a ton else to publish and hope you take the time to read..I'm not going anywhere, as I feel I have lots to explore soon!
Higherbeingfriends fan-
thank you. I just hope everything comes across as real. thanks for being there from beginning to the end. This update was very prompt!
Madmaggie-
here ya go! Enjoy for the weekend, hope you still enjoy it! thank you for there support!
Groban-
I always look forward to what you have to say. Nick still has a ways to go! Than you again!
Angie b-
Well, without giving much away...My next BIG story is another casefile. However, it will deal with a certain childhood trauma in a major way. Thank you again. Its going to take time to write, as it will be as long as Pound Of Flesh after Grave Danger fic...its my main summer project.