Title: Dreamers on the Rise
Author: Cropper
Pairing: GSR
Rating: Mature for Profanity, Graphic Imagery, and Adult Situations
Disclaimer: See Prologue
A/N: Thanks to Cheryl for the outstanding beta work on the G/S relationship snippets and holding my hand through some of the more intimate moments.
Summary: "True, we love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." Also Sprach Zarathustra - Freidrich Nietzsche
Chapter Seven
In The Desert
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter – bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."
Stephen Crane
"Jesus said, 'I shall give you what no eye has seen and what no ear has heard and what no hand has touched and what has never occurred to the human mind'."
The Gospel of Thomas (17)
And so it goes, and so it begins. I shiver upon the brink, this last shaky step to complete my tempestuous journey. One more soul to steal, one more heart to devour, one more sinner to crucify. I am free. I can taste my overcoming on the wind, feel it dancing through my veins. Soon, very soon, I shall be the one, the only. All will cower before me, tremble at the very sight of me, beseech me for forgiveness and redemption. Shall I bestow my magnificent mercy upon them? Shall I show them the way, let them enter? Only one among the filthy masses is worthy. Only one can enter within. Only one can see all that I am and all that I have become. Only he can understand and embrace my glory. He and I are one and ever shall be. He is I, I am Him. Behold! My time is now.
And so it goes, and so it begins. Hearken to my altar, ye sinners, and place your heathen heads upon my stone, my Holy of Holies. Feel the power of my hammer, taste the fire of my lightening. I shall crush you with a single blow like those that have come before, those scurrilous curs who dared mock my will and revile my sanctity with their misplaced egos and wandering lust. I have bathed myself in their fetid waste to absorb their wickedness into my pores. I have sipped of their blood to consume their worthlessness. They have been devoured and yet still live within me, never to be forgotten in the blackened abyss. I have consumed mine enemies and shall ye be consumed. Embrace the vast wasteland that nourishes all life and let if overflow your senses. Know that you are going to perish upon my throne. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From the desert you have come, to the sandstorm you shall return. My will be done. Behold! My time is now.
Red Lion has come.
Fear me.
Grissom was hunched over his desk, rifling through his notes, when the sound of a very feminine, very annoyed throat being cleared captured his attention. He glanced up to find all of the members of his team hovering in the doorway of his office. Catherine was standing front and center with her hands firmly planted on her hips and a look of frustration on her face.
"What?" Grissom muttered in exasperation. Why were they all standing in his doorway instead of getting the information and evidence they needed to nail this guy?
"Who?" they all asked in unison.
"Who what?" Grissom had no idea what they wanted and why they were wasting valuable time.
"Grissom," Catherine began patiently, speaking to him as if he were a child, waving the latest note in the air for emphasis. "You may know who the killer is but you haven't seen fit to share that information with the rest of the class."
"Oh," he blinked, finally comprehending. The others had not yet connected all of the dots. "Jimmy Matthews is the Red Lion."
"You're kidding, right?" asked Nick incredulously. "That little mousy guy who works in dispatch?"
"No, Nick, I am not kidding. I just can't prove it...yet. It is all right here in the note."
XXXX
Our faith in others betrays in what respect we would like to have faith in ourselves. Our longing for a friend is our betrayer, And often love is only a device to overcome envy. And often one attacks and makes an enemy in order to conceal that one is open for attack.i
XXXX
"Look, here's what I need from all of you. Divide and conquer. I don't care who does what, but it all needs to be done in a hurry. We don't have much time."
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
He handed Catherine a sheet of paper and went back to his notes, effectively dismissing them. Cath ran through the list and began assigning the tasks, each criminalist taking off to run down the evidence they needed.
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Greg was sent back to Cephas' apartment to see if he could find the officer's high school year book. Warrick once again hit the DMV database to see what vehicles Jimmy owned. Nick was in charge of digging up as much background on Matthews as possible. Catherine contacted Brass for warrants and she and Sara were cooling their heels waiting for the paper to come through so that they could search Jimmy's apartment.
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Rather than sitting idle, Sara dug through public records to see if Jimmy owned property other than what was listed as his primary residence and Catherine ran his credit card purchases. Both women came up empty. Jimmy owned no additional property and nothing of interest, save for some limestone blocks, popped up on his credit cards.
Time marched on as the criminalists raced about compiling what they needed. Brass was able to easily obtain several warrants and the frantic pace of the search accelerated.
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...relentlessly...each tiny thundering movement of the clock marking another moment closer, another minute nearer.
Grissom sat alone in the conference room, files strewn across the table, savagely berating himself for missing the obvious, for placing all of his faith in only one possible interpretation of the evidence, for refusing to consider what else Jimmy was trying to tell him. Yes, he was trying to frame Cephas but, at the same time, was waving an unerring, accusing finger towards the victim, the real target in all of this...Officer J. J. Cephas. Jimmy first took out his anger on all that he thought Cephas had stolen from him, all of those aspects of society that had failed him in one way or another. Now, he is going after the thief himself.
It had to happen Friday, Good Friday. By killing Cephas he would be ritualistically killing himself and thus all of the injury he perceived Cephas responsible for. On Sunday, the third day, he would rise, his philosophical transformation complete. Cephas' death would represent the real overcoming, would bury everything that has held him in stasis. And, then the real terror would begin. Jimmy would be guided only by his newly formed twisted perception of morality, his private doctrine. Yes, once Cephas lay dead and broken in the desert, the real killing would begin. He would kill Cephas sometime...he paused to glance at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand pulse persistently onward...tomorrow. Maundy Thursday was upon them.
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Greg was the first to arrive back, Cephas' high school yearbook in tow. The annual did not yield any particularly startling insights into either man, other than the fact that Jimmy's extracurricular activities had dwindled into nothingness by the time he graduated and that Cephas was indeed a BMOC. He had been voted "Most Popular", "Best Looking", "Most Athletic", was the captain of the football, basketball and baseball teams and even performed in show choir and school musicals. Cephas had predictably defaced pictures of students he did not like; he had inked a mustache and beard on Jimmy's photo and had further obliterated the youthful features by scrawling "LOSER" across the portrait. Grissom gazed at the photo and shook his head ruefully, wondering what the BMOC in his own graduating class had scrawled across his senior picture.
"He really is a dick," Greg said, watching Grissom. "There was a guy just like him in my high school who got his jollies from knocking me around for no reason."
Grissom gave Greg a sympathetic look. "I think we all had our own personal Cephas somewhere along the line. Adolescence is difficult enough without bullies humiliating you every step of the way."
"Were you bullied, Grissom?"
Grissom merely shook his head, a mysterious and even sad little grin flitting across his face. "I was a ghost."
The moment passed, one in which Greg got a rare unguarded glimpse of the man who is his boss. "Oh," Greg said. "Sara wanted me to stop by Jimmy's place and get this for you. She and Catherine are still processing but thought you might want this as soon as possible." He handed Grissom a tattered notebook. "She thinks that it is some sort of journal. I thumbed through it and, I gotta tell you, some of the stuff in there is downright freaky."
"Thank you, Greg," he murmured absently, delving into Jimmy's private thoughts. Greg watched Grissom read for a few minutes before heading off to see if any of the others needed help.
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
The worm crawls through my mind
Tearing at my soul
Feasting upon my tortured humanity
Destroying all that was good
All that was gentle
All that was kind
To leave nothing
Festering lesions
Bloody welts
Until I am empty
A hollow shell of all that I was
And all that I would have been
"Grissom!" Nick shouted as he hurtled into the room with Greg on his heels, startling the older man from his reading. "You will not believe what I found out."
"Okay, I started by going through Jimmy's personnel file. Both of his parents are deceased and he has no siblings. His emergency contact and next of kin is one Mary Lou Cephas." Grissom just nodded serenely, as if he had known that the relationship between Cephas and Matthews ran far deeper than just high school classmates but Greg's eyes widened with disbelief.
"Cephas and Jimmy are related?"
"You got it. Their mothers were twin sisters. I called J.J.'s mom, said I was doing a newsletter article about relatives in law enforcement and she was more than happy to talk about both of them. She also gave up the names of some of their old friends so I contacted them as well. I was able to come up with a pretty in-depth bio," Nick reported proudly.
James David Matthews was the only child of David, a tenured professor of English at UCLA and Rosalie, a homemaker. The Matthews and Cephas families lived two doors down from each other and Jimmy and J. J. were inseparable as young boys. They were schoolmates from the time they went off to kindergarten to the time they graduated from senior high school. As youngsters they took turns sleeping over at each other's houses or in homemade tents they constructed in the back yard, played on the same pee wee athletic teams and their families even took vacations together.
Listen to me! I'm a voice in the sky!
The wind that haunts, disturbing your nights.
Misting and swirling, slipping on by,
You can't escape my fury
Or sad mournful cry.
Listen to me! Thundering with might!
Rattling your mirrors, your windows of sight.
Brushing away grit and layers of grime,
Showing you terrors,
The suffering of time.
Listen to me! as I screech through your brain!
Showering your thoughts with revolutionary rain
Shouting my wisdom, sharing my past
Hoping my message
Will be broadcast at last.
I'm the voice of salvation, compassion of man,
Urging you onward, igniting the land
Freeing the children, releasing the soul,
A voice crying lonely,
Unheard in the cold.
Jimmy's life changed dramatically when he entered junior high school. David Matthews died suddenly of a heart attack on Jimmy's eleventh birthday and his mother was forced to find employment outside of the home. Rosie eventually took a job as a sales clerk at an exclusive dress shop and, by all accounts, had trouble adjusting to the life and demands of single parenthood. Jimmy was left to his own devices and spent much of his free time visiting the Cephas household.
Junior high also marked a major turning point in the relationship between the two boys as well. J. J.'s athleticism was propelling him onto several select all-star teams and away from Jimmy, Boy Scouts and the church youth group. J. J.'s new "pals" liked to boast of their prowess on and off the playing field and took particular delight in mistreating boys like Jimmy who were small, studious, largely non-athletic; boys they termed to be "geeks" or "losers." At first J. J. tried to protect his cousin from his new friends but eventually this new circle of friends let it be known in no uncertain terms that J. J. would have to choose between them or Jimmy. J. J. was not willing to give up the prestige and popularity that was associated with this particular clique and began to torment his cousin as well, oftentimes instigating the worst of the physical and emotional humiliation. Jimmy was devastated by J. J.'s betrayal, a blow from which he never fully recovered. Within a span of a couple of years, he had lost his father and then his best friend, both of whom he worshiped to the point of idolatry. . He started withdrawing and by the time he graduated from high school, he had become a virtual recluse.
All alone, once again
No human form tries my door
Just ghosts and spectres
Ghoulish nightmares
Of what was, in happier times
Long ago before the storm
When I was still alive
Raging tears
Shed in agony
For a dream shattered and splintered beyond repair
During the long hot summer
Season of lost innocence
Squandered youth
Crushed hopes
And death
Farewell to joy
Farewell to laughter
Priceless artifacts trampled asunder
Forever more
The wind is picking up, whistling, snorting
From a pale green dragon
Screeching enviously and scratching waxen trees
An unwelcome intrusion
Marring solitary solitude
While closing in
Trapping me one last time
In his icy grip
Jimmy had turned to the church for solace in his grief and planned on studying theology in college before eventually attending seminary and dedicating his life to God. He sought to find some sort of meaning and value in his suffering and thought perhaps his life experience might help him understand and minister to others who had been maltreated. J. J. had been so wrapped up in athletics, partying and whoring that, despite being recruited by several major universities and offered numerous football scholarships, he simply did not have the test scores or grades to attend college. He was packed off to the local junior college to bolster his GPA and eventually enrolled in the police academy.
Another Saturday night
Slipped slowly, softly
Into the pre-dawn hours of morn
All is quiet upon the beach
The wind whispers
On night-blackened wings
Charred evening's fire
Acrid smoke lingering
No one is home,
Tires screech! Crash! Silence!
Old refrigerator sings tirelessly
Same laborious song
Tediously reassuring
Curtains safely drawn
Pale beams from a scant quarter moon
Dance across paint-chipped walls
Clock face barely visible
3:33
Going on nothing
Still the dreams hide
One of Jimmy's few positive high school experiences was meeting a girl named Jenn. They dated almost exclusively throughout their junior and senior years and Jenn remained at home to study drama while Jimmy headed to Arizona for his undergraduate studies. While Jimmy was gone, Jenn gravitated towards J. J. He was exceptionally handsome and just had this...something about him. At first, Jenn sought out J. J. for news of Jimmy. Then, as time passed and Jimmy seemed farther and farther away, Jenn and J. J. started officially dating. Neither told Jimmy for Jenn did not want to hurt him unnecessarily, but an unforeseen tragedy brought the illicit relationship to the surface. J. J. and Jenn were out cruising one night, exceeding the speed limit, and J. J. lost control of his car. He walked away from the wreckage with barely a scratch but Jenn's neck had been snapped on impact and she had died instantly. Once again, J. J. had managed to destroy that which was precious to Jimmy and Jimmy was never able to forgive him.
You seep into the shadows
Ever present
Grasping with slime-encrusted claws
All that I revere
Hold dear
Hide away
You yet find
Worming further and further
Deeper and deeper
Harder and harder
Into my heart
There is nothing left
In the crags of hardened stone
You eater of souls
You have stolen my final victory
To claim it as your own
One more tarnished trophy
Gathering dust upon a shelf
Jimmy graduated from college summa cum laude, but it was a hollow achievement. His mother succumbed to breast cancer two months before he was due to receive his diploma. He had no one left to care about him, no one with whom he could share his life. God had taken his parents and his cousin had destroyed his only chance for future happiness. Jimmy's heart hardened. He turned further inward, damning all that had formerly held meaning or value in his life. He abandoned his plans to attend seminary for he could no longer stomach the thought that God was benevolent or cared about his children. He was alone in the world, without direction, without purpose.
Looking in
Looking out
Makes no difference
Still at the window
Seeing nothing
Only emptiness
And waste
Reflection of being
He bounced around for awhile, working at various odd jobs and professions before finally landing in Vegas about five years earlier. He used part of the money he inherited from his parents to purchase a small town home and lived a quiet, solitary existence. Those who knew him from work thought him to be a little odd but nothing serious. He was uncommonly fond of quoting Nietzsche and other philosophers and it was common knowledge that he held Grissom in the highest esteem. He prattled endlessly about how much he had in common with the amazing Dr. Grissom and had even been talking about going back to school to study to become a CSI so he could work with Grissom. There was nothing, no red flags, no warning signals, no flashing neon signs to indicate that he was slipping into madness; that he had evolved into a deranged serial killer.
Moonlight sonata, serenade in the mist
Whistling aimlessly
Floating on a gentle breeze
Caressing ivory glances of refracting prisms.
Black-burnt cypresses shadow and blanket
Sentinel dragon
Quietly guarding, silently watching
As the hour of execution draws nigh
Slowly mounting, closer higher
Peering o'er cloudy bays
To its zenith.
Cries of terror, howls of doom
Flashing livid splashing mercury
Sparking fires, slashing out
Hurriedly consuming
Greedily feeding
Never satiated
Bathing the guardian Golden Dragon
In a last veil of splendor, final wreath of glory
Before he staggers, drunkenly wavering
Tumbling into scorched puddles
Fiery blood bubbles
Wrought by the beast and his dripping fangs
Licking satisfaction, pleasure
From his stained jowls
Crusted whiskers
Red Lion has come
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Warrick was the next member of the team to check in and lost no time in relaying his findings. DMV records showed that Jimmy owned a Honda Civic hybrid and a little Toyota 4x4 pickup truck. His financial records revealed that Jimmy did have a rather sizable nest egg that he had inherited from his parents. Granted, it was not a fortune and he could not live on this money for any extended amount of time but Jimmy tended to live well within the means of his salary and rarely splurged. The only real exceptions seemed to be his woodworking tools and several large blocks of limestone.
"Limestone," drawled Nick, not certain that he had heard Warrick correctly.
"Yeah, limestone. An assload of it," replied Warrick. I called the wholesaler he used. He said that Jimmy found him on-line. Anyway, this guy normally deals in stuff like tile for floors or counters or vanities...building supplies, basically. Well our boy wanted," Warrick paused to flip through his notes, "a hunk of Jerusalem Gold Dark limestone that was fifty-eight feet long by forty-five feet wide by three feet tall. And, it could be not be honed, it had to be rough-hewn."
"Were they able to get that for him?" Something in Grissom's tone led the others to believe that he had an idea of what their suspect had wanted the limestone for.
"Not all in one block. They were able to get him three blocks that were roughly nineteen and a third feet by fifteen feet by three feet tall. And, they were all rough quarried, no finishing or anything else. Jimmy wasn't too happy that he could not get one block but satisfied that there were only three. Apparently, according to the distributor, Jimmy said that three was a magic number."
Nick let out a low whistle. "How much did all that cost?"
"By the time all was said and done, he dropped about thirty large on his big rocks."
"Thirty thousand dollars?" squeaked Greg. "For three blocks of limestone? What the hell did he do with them?"
"Man, if I am going to spend that much cash on a rock, it is going to be for some lucky lady's left finger," muttered Nick.
"He is building his own godesh haggodashim." All three men turned to Grissom who was reclining with eyes closed, head raised towards the ceiling, listening to and absorbing all of the information his criminalists had amassed.
"Excuse me?" asked Warrick.
"His Holy of Holies, modeled after the one in the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. The stone altar measured forty cubits by twenty-five cubits by two cubits high, the precise dimensions Jimmy specified in his order. The Temple of Solomon was double the proportions of the tabernacle Moses built in the desert, dimensions that were given to Moses by God. Why did it have to be unhewn blocks? 'And if thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone: for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted itii'."
Nick had one further question. "How the hell did he get his limestone once it was shipped?"
"Again, according to the distributor," continued Warrick, "Jimmy had to rent a U- Haul with a lift gate to get the stuff from the freight terminal. Who knows what he did with it from there. There is a paper trail that he rented a forklift, I'm assuming he used it to move the blocks where he wanted them, but no way of knowing where he took them."
"Grissom," Greg began, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I'm confused. I thought Jimmy lost his faith in God. Why is he using all of this religious symbolism?
"Because old habits die hard and you're not the only one who's confused."
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Sara and Catherine finally returned from tossing Jimmy's townhouse and one of his vehicles, the Honda. Jimmy and the little 4x4 were nowhere to be found. They did not find the murder weapon or the taser but they did find a set of Waterford champagne flutes and a box of earthenware bowls that matched the ones found at the dump sites. Jimmy was a scrupulous planner and had very detailed notes and photos of all of the victims. He also had a large sheaf of newspaper clippings pertaining to the Red Lion's deeds and an extra scrapbook devoted solely to Grissom.
"You better watch yourself, Gil," Catherine warned. "This guy knows an awful lot about you. He might go gunning for you next."
"I'll be careful, Catherine, but I don't think he's after me. I think he either wants me to join him or to stop him."
"He doesn't know everything about you, Gris," stated Sara. Grissom raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. "Well, he asked me out a couple of days ago and seemed kind of shocked when I told him that I was seriously involved with someone."
"Did you mention Grissom by name?" Warrick asked.
"No, I just told him I was with someone and was not interested in going out with him."
"Maybe," ventured Greg, "he was testing you."
"What do you mean," demanded Sara defensively. "What kind of test."
"Well, according to Nick's background info, Jimmy had a girlfriend who cheated on him," returned Greg. "She started seeing Cephas while Jimmy was away at college and was killed when Cephas failed to properly negotiate a turn at a high rate of speed. Maybe Jimmy was seeing if you were willing to step out on Grissom."
Nick nodded, agreeing with Greg. "That makes sense. Jimmy already seems to think he and Grissom were cut from the same mold. No offense, Gris, but you aren't exactly a man about town. I think Jimmy wants to be you."
Catherine rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically. "Oh God. Another Grissom. That's all we need. The one we have is bad enough."
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
Title: Und Ich Erstehe Title: Und Ich Erstehe
I
must createI must createI must create
I
am GodI am GodI am God
I
must createI must createI must create
I
must find valueI must find valueI must find value
Kill
them allKill them allKill them all
I
must destroyI must destroyI must destroy
Build
it upBuild it upBuild it up
Tear
it downTear it downTear it down
Blow
it upBlow it upBlow it up
Start
againStart againStart again
I
must createI must createI must create
I
must find valueI must find valueI must find value
I am the FatherI am the SonI am the Spirit
I AM GOD!
"We need a grid map," Grissom announced. "I need to know precisely where the bodies were found."Nick hurried off to get the requested map while Grissom continued thinking aloud. "Where is he, where would he take them? It is in the threes, he is hung up on the threes."
Catherine asked, "What threes?"
"The triads – The Holy Trinity...father, son and holy ghost, Nietzsche's trinity of overcoming...the camel, lion and the child, the three saints...James, John and Peter, the three victims. Everything had to be done in threes before he could go after Cephas."
"So you're thinking that the location of the bodies is another three…" began Sara.
"That will point to the killer's location," finished Warrick.
Nick returned with the map and they carefully plotted the exact location of each dump site.
Title: Und Ich ErsteheX (AS)
(JG)X X(MH)
"Well, that's not very helpful," snorted Catherine. "I can't see what he was trying to do."
"Ah, but it is not what he is trying to do but rather what he has already done," replied Grissom.
"I see it!" exclaimed Greg. He looked at Grissom. "May I?"
Grissom nodded and Greg carefully drew a line from the placement of Judge Simmons' body to a slight promontory due south.
X (AS)
(JG)X X(MH)
l
l
l
l
l
l
X
As Greg completed his line, the picture became clear. Jimmy had constructed his limestone altar, his holy of holies, at the foot of his depraved cross. Grissom pointed to the elevation. "That's where we will find him. Call Brass. Let's go."
"Hey Gris," Warrick paused to let the others clear the room. "How'd you know it was Jimmy?"
Grissom allowed a small satisfied grin to grace his lips. "I didn't," he shrugged. "I played a hunch."
TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...TICK TOCK...
By the time the criminalists reached the desert, dawn was breaking and the Day of Preparation, Good Friday was upon them. A sandstorm was brewing reducing visibility to a little more than a painful squint against the stinging sand. The wind tore at Grissom's clothes as he set out towards Jimmy's altar, billowing the cotton of his chinos like sail cloth tossed about on the high seas. Grissom was indeed heading directly into the eyes of a storm, but it was one of madness, not nature's fury.
Grissom raised his left hand over his sunglasses to further protect his vision as he neared the Matthews' makeshift temple, an oasis of insanity nestled in the cradle of nothingness. Jimmy and Cephas were there, Cephas bound and kneeling to the side of the limestone mass. Cephas had a dark stain on the crotch of his jeans where he had proved himself to be human, all too human, in a moment of uncontrolled terror. Grissom, not wanting to take his eyes off of Jimmy, chanced a glance at the painstakingly reproduced altar. The golden-hued stone was stained black with burnt blood.
Jimmy watched Grissom approach, elated that he had come to share this moment. "Behold!" cried Jimmy, as he watched Grissom approach, elated and humbled that his idol had actually come to witness his own pathetic attempt to overcome. "I have seen the overman and he is nigh! Come, let us rejoice and worship on bended knee!" He dropped down, heedless of the abrasive sand, to prostrate himself before Grissom. He reached over and pulled Cephas down as well. "You might not bow before me but you will tremble when greatness appears before your eyes," he hissed sharply at his cousin whose eyes were watering freely, scraped ruthlessly by the blowing sand. "That's right, dog, weep. Sob for all you have taken from me and that which I am about to take from you. Wail for the magnificence that approaches and know now, in the moment of your inglorious death that you will never attain such splendor."
"Jimmy!" Grissom bellowed. "Let him go! He is nothing. You are lowering yourself to him, facing him on his level, reducing this to nothing more than revenge."
"NO! It's not about revenge. He made me, he forced me to become. The only way I can finish is to devour that which has held me back."
"The only thing that has held you back all these years is yourself."
"NO! It was him, always him. I thought you understood. I am you, you are me. We are one. I checked you out. Our dads both died when we were kids. We are both life-long bachelors. We are private and reclusive. We are educated men. We want justice for the evil in the world." Jimmy was growing hysterical, trying to make Grissom see, to comprehend that this was the only way. Evil cannot be reformed nor preached away nor talked into nonexistence. His way, the morality of creation, his own covenant unto himself, was the only hope. "We were destined to face this life alone; pure, virginal and untouched. All that we held dear was stolen from us when we were young. We must destroy those who drove us into the abyss, must destroy the evil doers, must free ourselves from those who made us the men we are today. Only then can we find someone worthy of our care and devotion."
"You will never be me, Jimmy. You cannot face the eternal return," Grissom fired back forcefully, disdain dripping from every word as he tried to infiltrate the cloudy hysteria of Jimmy's mind, penetrate the hazy delusions in a desperate effort to coerce him to listen to reason. "I have always known exactly who and what I am. Any failures or disasters I have endured were all of my own making. I was the one responsible for them and the only one who could change them. You have placed that blame on someone else rather than take a long hard look at yourself. My life is not perfect. I have as much detestable baggage as everyone else. But, unlike you, I would change nothing. I accept the man I have become and could not be that man without my past. You haven't made it that far and you never will."
"Oh damn," Brass muttered to Nick as the two carefully edged closer and closer to Jimmy's back. "Gil's going for broke."
Like a mortally wounded wild animal, knowing that death is near, Jimmy released an anguished screech towards the sky. The pain was unbearable, a thousand white-hot shards of serrated glass embedding themselves into his psyche. It was true; everything Grissom had said was true. Everything, every last little foible that had led to his downfall, which had held him back his entire life had been his own. He alone had held himself back, not his dead father, not his lifeless mother, not his lying, cheating girlfriend, not even his worthless cousin. Oh! The blessed anguish! The euphoric torture of a blinding truth finally revealed.
Grissom could see that Brass was very nearly in position. The time had come to shatter Jimmy's perceptions once and for all. His tone was gentler, and filled with wonder as he continued. "Jimmy, despite myself or in spite of myself, I am not alone. I have someone in my life." Jimmy turned his tear-stained face once again to Grissom, feeling each softly spoken word like a iron spike through his soul. "I found someone who is not ashamed of me, who loves me because I am who I am, who loves my flaws and imperfections and the man I will yet become. I found someone to love, Jimmy, and someone to love me in return. I have someone to walk with me and to catch me when I fall. I found this, Jimmy, because I accept what I am instead of blaming someone else for keeping me from becoming what I thought I should as opposed to the man I am supposed be."
Jimmy slumped to the ground and collapsed upon himself as gut-wrenching sobs wracked his frame. It was over. His life had been in vain, had amounted to a nothing more vast than the deepest darkest abyss. Brass walked up and cuffed the broken man where he lay huddled in the driving sand before moving to release Cephas.
Cephas rubbed his writs vigorously and shook Brass' hand before turning to address Grissom. "Thanks for finding me, man, and thanks for not hurting Jimmy. I don't know what happened to him. He was always such a nice guy. I guess he just snapped or something."
"Officer Cephas?" Grissom was tired, He did not want to spend another moment in this barren place and he did not want to waste another moment of his time speaking with Cephas. "You can only kick a dog so many times before it bites back. You helped to create this monster. I hope you can live with that." Cephas looked at him blankly as he turned slowly and limped gingerly to rejoin his team.
It was time to leave, time to reconnect with all of the people who were important to him. He would buy his superb group of criminalists breakfast and then he and Sara would finally go home...just the two of them, to further realize their dreams together in the bright light of day. They were no longer bound by darkness. They could dance without fear under the rejuvenating glow of the noon day sun; free to hope, free to plan, free to build a future, together.
Once, we were dreamers on the rise
We were the sun where the sun never shines
And we were gold where the nightbird only flies
Ah, that's a long time you know for that kind of wind to blow
Long time ago we were dreamers on the rise
To Be Continued...
iNietzsche, Freidrich, Also Sprach Zarathustra.
iiExodus 20:25