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Upon arrival at Desert Palms, I went to the receptionist to get his room number, then hurried up to his room. He just lay in the bed, babbling about nonsense. Brass was already standing by the door to go off to his crime scene. Once Brass left, I sat by Nick's bed. I almost cried out: It's not fair. That was my crime scene. If anyone should be in this hospital bed, mumbling about nothing, because he inhaled poison. Mercury! Of all things, why Mercury. As the saying goes, you get mad as a hatter. But why Nick? Why not me?
My musings were cut short by the ringing of my cell phone at my hip. Oh, no. What now? What more can possibly go wrong? I thought as I tentatively picked up my phone and examined the caller ID. Catherine it said. What does Catherine want? Maybe she wants to talk about the Warrick incident. At least I can set that story straight.
But I was met with a totally different person's voice. Not Catherine's strong, motherly voice, but by Lindsey's small, hysterical voice.
"Sara, Sara, it's Lindsey. You've got to help me. What's wrong Lindsey? My mommy is in the tub, but she's not moving. She has her gun in it with her and I think she shot herself. Lindsey, listen to me very carefully. I want you to call 911 now and tell them everything you just told me, and tell them where you live. Do you know your address? Of course I do. Good. I'll be over there as soon as possible. And Lindsey. Yes? Don't worry. It'll be all right."
And with this lie escaping my lips, I closed the phone. Catherine, you can't leave me now. Please, let her live. I told Nick that I had to leave, but I would be back as soon as possible. He didn't even know that I was there, let alone that I was leaving, so I slipped out the door and ran to my car. On the way there, I called the person that loved Catherine more than anyone could believe, even though he wouldn't admit it. I dialed his number and waited for him to answer.
Brown. Warrick? It's Sara. Hey Sara. Listen, Catherine saw you with Tina and got the wrong impression. I think it was just too much for her. Lindsey just called me and told me that she was in the tub, shot, with her gun. I have a feeling it was a suicide. I have a lot of things going on right now, so can you please come over to Cath's house to help me with Lindsey?
With this, I heard the beep that told me that he hung up. I was worried that he wouldn't come, but he was there before I was, hugging Lindsey and being the support that she needed. I walked in and almost puked at the scene. Catherine was in the tub, head laid back against the edge of the tub, eyes rolled back in her head, bullet hole at her temple. Because there was no one else in there, I started processing the scene. That was all I could do. Work, work, work. Is that what has become of my life? Work?
I had been working for what seemed like ages, when my cell phone went off. I checked the caller ID. It said Grissom, so I picked it up. If he died too, I don't know what I'd do.
"Grissom, are you O.K.? Of course, Sara. Why wouldn't I be? Everyone is dying. Well, you've got one more. Brass was at a scene and got shot. I need you to come over and help me. Please? O.K. I'll be over. And Grissom. What? Just be careful, O.K. It just seems like today is not going well."
And with that, I hung up. I left the scene of one of my best friends' murder to go to another of my friend's murder.
I got to the scene to find Grissom standing over Brass, who had a bullet hole through his neck. For, it had to have the third time this day, I wanted to puke. My friends were dropping like flies. All I did was work the scene. That's all I can do. Work, work, work.
Once we were done with the collection, we got in our separate cars and headed for the lab. All of a sudden, I remembered. Nick! I turned my car around and sped towards the hospital, breaking every speeding law that was ever made. But upon arriving at the hospital, I was met with yet another crime scene. I jumped out of my truck and ran over to the crime scene tape. Once I saw the scene before me, the bile rose so high in my throat that I thought I would seriously spew. Nick lay face down on the pavement, every bone in his body obviously crushed. It looked like he was trying to fly, and didn't. You idiot I thought, he was babbling that he would try to fly. This is your entire fault! I ran. I ran to the car, but I couldn't get in. I ran to the lab, which was conveniently close. I burst through the door, to find Warrick with his protective arms around Lindsey. I needed someone's shoulder to cry on, someone to support me. I know that I sound needy, but I had just broken down. Every muscle screamed out in pain, my heart had broken into a million pieces. I ran to a place where I had always felt safe. Grissom's office.
And all I was met with was a sight that could have killed me any normal day. But today it was too much. I saw, through the blinds of the windows to his office, Grissom and Sofia. His arms were wrapped around her, her arms wrapped around him, and his lips were in Sofia's hair. I felt trapped; the walls were closing in around me. I turned and did the only thing I could do to protect my pride. I ran. I let my legs carry me wherever they wanted.
And I ended up in the room in which I started this horrible day. The little room in the back of the lab, which contained my crime scene photos, still laid out on the table. I went over to the chairs in the corner of the room and did the only 2 things I could do anymore. I screamed, and I cried…