Hello again! Here is the next chapter!
Enjoy . . .
Grissom tried to keep himself upright as he looked at the young agents light azure lips, it was that same sickly color that had made its appearance at Nick's apartment.
Grissom had screamed and yelled his frustration; Nick was his vent and vent he did. He remembered screaming into Nick's face and begging him to fight; and Grissom shook unresponsive CSI until his legs gave out.
After he had gotten over the initial shock, his CSI training had kicked in.
Nick wasn't breathing, and Warrick hadn't returned with help yet. Nick had been in a grand maul seizure and the effects weakened his lungs, and may have caused transparent problems in his brain. The intubation tube still forced oxygen into the young mans body, but his brain wasn't responding to the transaction.
He grabbed Nick's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before he went to work. Thinking quickly Grissom cleaned Nick's face of the contents of his stomach that had spilled out of him with a bed-sheet. Then he tore the remaining sheets of and let them fall uselessly to the floor.
Leaning back towards the door he yelled frantically, "Warrick, Nick's flat-lining, I can't perform CPR with that damn tube down his throat and I'm not certified to use the paddles on him."
Grissom looked back at his slack friend and wondered if starting compressions would do any help. He shook his head at that thought; he would have to count how quickly the oxygen was being automatically pumped into his system.
After Grissom had watched as the CSI's chest moved up and down; he realized that there was no way that he could pump Nick's heart five times before the next wave of air forced its way into the mans' body. And if he tried, he could permanently damage something by inflicting too much pressure at once, maybe under normal circumstances he could, but Nick was to weak to sustain something like that.
Finally help arrived, the doctors and nurses worked together in a mantra of chaos, shouting orders and informing each other of Nick's physical state. "Get me the paddles, it's going to be impossible to start compressions in his weakened state," Grissom recognized the man as being Nick's surgeon.
The crash was wheeled over to the bed, Nick's polka-doted hospital gown was cut away skillfully with scissors. "Charge to two hundred," The screech of the crash cart was ominously loud as it charged, getting ready to attempt and save the young man's life.
Nick's body arched with an intensity, only to fall back down to reality. The heart monitor still whined loudly, Nick had not yet come back. "Charge to three hundred," the crash carts whine intensified greatly, willing to try one more time.
Warrick stood out of the way, pushing his back up against the wall that was located nearest to the door. His fist was pressed up against his mouth to quiet any outburst that might spew forth. "Come on Nicky," he murmured over and over hoping that he could will his friend to live.
"We have a heartbeat," a nurse called out. She grabbed Nick's arm, letting it mold limply into her hand. The woman put the pressure cuff on his arm, and pumped until the material had completely expanded. She waved the doctor over who winced when he saw the number.
"Let's get him on some inotropes stat, we need to bring down his blood pressure," The doctor continued to bark out orders, telling his staff to get medications.
"Is Nicky gonna pull through?" Grissom asked quizzically. He studied the doctor, pulling the answer from the doctor's expression like he had done to suspects in interrogation countless times.
"Mr. Grissom, you and Mr. Brown need to wait outside while we work," the doctor said as he grabbed him and Warrick by the elbow and ushered them both through the door.
The last thing Grissom and Warrick saw before the door was slammed into they're face was Nick's sickening gray pallor. "You can make it Nicky, fight for us,"
Grissom and Warrick paced the halls aimlessly, waiting for word on Nick. Grissom remembered his old supervisor telling him that it wasn't the dead people that caused the problems and drama, it was the people still breathing.
"Mr. Grissom?" a voice sounded behind the two men. They both swung around to see the young girl who worked at the front desk; they waited patiently for her to speak again.
"We got a phone call earlier, it was Mr. Stokes brother . . . he said that he'll be arriving tomorrow around 8:00 a.m." The girl stopped for a few seconds then began again, "He said that you can either meet him at the airport or here, but you'll have to call him to find out where exactly."
Grissom smiled genuinely. He had met the infamous Mat before; Nick absolutely adored his older brother. The two Stokes brothers were partners in crime; they had caused quite a stir in the lab last time the older brother visited.
After thanking the nurse, both men excused themselves and sat in those ugly uncomfortable chairs outside of Nick's door.
Grissom prayed that his young friend wouldlive to seetomorrow, maybe with Nick's brother, they could bring Nick back.
TBC . . .