Chapter Nine

Tuesday 2:00am

The room was quiet and dark when he awoke. The blinds were open and the bright lights of the Strip were visible in the distance. He got out of bed, feeling the dull pain from the cuts on the soles of his feet. He slipped on the slippers and realized that he was only dressed in the hospital underwear and walked to the closet. Feeling for a gown, he instead found a bathrobe and put it on. Seeing the light around the door frame from the corridor, he walked to it and opened the door. Squinting, he stepped into the hallway.

"Dr. Grissom," Agent Donner acknowledged.

"I think you can be a bit more familiar at this point. Call me, Grissom," he instructed softly, his throat still sore.

"I'm Kevin, Grissom. Up to stretch your legs?"

"Something like that. When did my mother leave?" Grissom asked starting to walk slowly down the hallway, Kevin at his side.

"She and Mr. McAllister left around ten last night. You were sleeping pretty soundly and the nurse felt your fever was coming down."

Grissom remained silent as he walked down the quiet corridor. The sounds from the different rooms were calming and at the same time unnerving. The smells of disinfectant and bodily fluids were almost overwhelming. By the time he reached the solarium, Grissom was unsettled.

"Hey, you okay?" Kevin asked, watching the sweat roll down the grey face of his charge.

"I don't know, just let me sit down for a minute," Grissom said, heading for a chair.

Kevin helped him into the chair, noting the care he took and the way he held the right side of his chest. Grissom leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

"Kevin, would you turn the lights down, please?"

"Sure, let me find the switch," Kevin said, scanning the walls.

He found four switches and turned them off. The only light in the solarium was from the moon and the general light given off by the city. Grissom sat quietly while Kevin took up a secure position.

"Where's Dr. Grissom?" the man asked, quite upset.

"What do you mean?" the nurse queried back.

"Where is he, and where is his agent?" the man asked, his voice getting louder.

A low whistle emitted from the end of the corridor and a flashlight waved a bright blue beam.

"Thanks," he said to the weary nurse, heading to the end of the hall.

"What's up?" Brass asked, looking into the darkened solarium.

"I think he just wanted out." Kevin replied softly.

"Hey, man, you nearly gave me a coronary. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Jim asked, crouching by Grissom's chair.

Grissom opened his eyes and sat up, reaching for Jim. They held each other, Jim feeling Grissom's rapid heart beat and the sweat dripping down his face.

"Gil, what's up? You're okay. It's just night time." Jim said, soothingly.

"Please, I need to breathe fresh air. I'm not asking you to spring me. It's just; I need fresh air, please, Jim." Grissom pled softly.

"Okay, let me find out the quickest way out. Just hang on, you hear me?'

"I can do that," Grissom said, falling back to the chair.

"Agent Donner," Brass started.

"Kevin,"

"Kevin, I'm Jim Brass, LVPD. He's on the verge of a panic attack. Where can he go for fresh air? The roof, or the main door. Which is closest?"

"The roof; give me a minute to clear it." Kevin said, stepping away with his walkie talkie.

A few minutes later, Kevin walked up to him with his thumb up. Jim smiled and crouched next to Grissom again.

"Okay, let's go to the roof." Jim said.

Grissom opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet. Kevin led the way to the elevator. It was unlocked to the roof by security electronically at the control center and so up they went. The door opened and Grissom almost ran out just to breathe fresh air, standing on the concrete path. He stood, leaning over slightly, the pain in his ribs twinging. Jim walked up to him, touching his shoulder. Kevin stood a respectful, yet practical, distance away, watching both men. Grissom shoved his right hand, feeling the scabs stretch, into the pocket of his bathrobe and started to pace. Jim walked to Kevin's side and lit a cigarette, watching Grissom.

"Is this a normal thing for him?"

"Yeah, I guess. The last six months have been rough. I found out that he was a battered child; we had some cases at the lab that really threw him. Then he was involved in a clean shoot; an ambush at a scene. He was so calm, it was unnerving. Two days ago his father surfaced after forty years and the cycle began again; he was the battered child protecting his battered mother. He's a strong, quiet, private man, but these waves of emotion blindside him and he gets panic attacks."

"What's going on now?" Kevin asked, watching Grissom pace and running an occasional hand through his hair.

"This is just how he thinks, sometimes." Jim said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

5:00am

The nurses had tried twice to get them to move back into the building, without success. Grissom had been pacing for almost three hours and now was starting to stagger.

"Hey, Gil, let's get you to bed, okay? I think you can sleep, now." Jim asked.

"No, please, not yet. I've almost got it." Grissom said, stopping to look at him.

"You don't look so good." Jim commented, noting the grey face, the sweat, and the tremors which spread through his body.

"Kevin, do you have any candy on you?" Jim asked softly.

"Yeah, hang on," Kevin replied, reaching into his pocket for a Flyer candy bar.

"Thanks," Jim said, taking it from him.

"Gil, please eat this. You need the sugar," Jim said, handing him the confection.

Grissom took the candy bar and noted the gold plane on the outside of the wrapper. He opened it and started to eat it, feeling the intense rush of the sugar hit him quickly. He stood, consuming the bar and then didn't move as he felt his body react to the first solid food in several days. Jim walked up to him and put his arm around his shoulders, directing him back to the elevator. Grissom went willingly, feeling the consuming fatigue around him. The three men took the elevator to the sixth floor and walked Grissom back to his room. He was almost asleep when they got him into bed and minutes later, he was sleeping deeply. The nurse came in to take his vitals and smiled when she saw his temperature was normal. She injected him again with a clear liquid, marked the chart, and left the room. Jim walked back into the corridor.

"You leaving?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, I can't even tell you what shift I'm on or not on. I just need to sleep. Keep an ear out, would you? He gets lost sometimes and just needs a human hand on him to come back."

"I saw that earlier; really scared his Mom." Kevin commented.

"But Roger was here, right?"

"Yeah, Roger was in control," Kevin responded.

"I figure you'll get Mrs. Grissom back at 8:00am and Sara right behind her."

"Well, he did eat something, so he should be released, right?"

"I dunno, I'm not the doctor. See you tomorrow." Brass said, waving a weary hand.

8:00am

Grissom woke from a dream that was unsettling; not exactly a nightmare, but he needed to be on his feet to think it through. He stood slowly and put on the bathrobe that was lying across the foot of the bed. He opened the door and walked out into the corridor.

"Hi, Grissom, what's up?" Kevin asked.

"Roof, please, Kevin," Grissom asked, starting to walk in that direction.

"Wait, Grissom," Kevin said, pulling his phone from his waist to get security to unlock the elevator.

He caught up to Grissom at the elevators and spoke into the walkie microphone at his right cuff.

"Bugman on the move to the roof,"

"Roger that, Dancer on her way to hospital, Artist still at hotel," Seb's voice replied.

"Roger that, Donner out," Kevin said.

The elevator door slid open and they walked in. Kevin pressed 'Roof' and the cab moved. The door opened and they walked out onto the rooftop, bright with sunshine. Momentarily disoriented, they stood waiting for their eyes to adjust. They waited a moment too long. A man stepped out from behind the elevator housing. Kasgar smiled and shot at Kevin, dropping him before he could get his gun out. Grissom stood stock still, Kevin lying at his feet.

"Dr. Grissom, you left me way too early. Pick him up," Kasgar ordered.

Grissom leaned over, and as gently as he could, without causing himself too much pain, he lifted Kevin. Kasgar motioned to a spot around the elevator housing in the shade and Grissom set him down gently. At that exact moment, he felt the needle enter his arm. He heard a loud noise; a deafening noise from above him. He heard Kasgar shouting to someone and then he heard silence. Grissom reached into Kevin's shoulder holster and pulled his service revolver. Turning, Grissom shot Kasgar pointblank in the chest. He fell to the graveled roof, dead. As the world was fading from Grissom's sight, he stood on shaky legs and shot at the helicopter, feeling the buffeting of the rotor wash as it was trying to land, ten feet off the roof. Grissom collapsed as the helicopter took off.

8:30am

"Dancer is entering the building," Agent Brennan called on his walkie talkie.

The silence was unnerving. Sara and Agent Brennan got off the elevator on the sixth floor and walked to Grissom's room. It was orderly, but empty.

"This is Brennan, Dancer is at room. Where is Bugman?"

There was no response to his call, so Brennan repeated it. Nervous, he took charge.

"This is Brennan; we have a maggot, repeat a maggot at my location. Please check in."

"Artist, safe and sound," Thibodeau replied.

"Control, safe and sound," Seb replied.

"Need back up, now," Agent Brennan said, turning to Sara.

"There's trouble. I need you to stay here and do not move. Do you understand me?"

Sara nodded and stood behind the nurse's desk, feeling her Glock against her ribs, she set her bag down beside her.

Agent Brennan took the elevator to the roof; his gun out. He followed strict procedure until he saw the bodies. He felt the pulses as he took out his cell phone. Kevin was alive, but barely. The other man had a center mass. He was dead after the first bullet. Grissom was very still with a gun in his hand. He pulled his cell phone from his waist and punched in a number.

Sara heard her phone and cursed that she had forgotten to put it to turn it off in the hospital.

"Sidle,"

"Sara, it's Sean, I need two trauma units to the roof, now. Get Dr. Evans." He instructed.

"Got it," she replied, shutting her phone.

"There's a medical emergency on the roof. We need two trauma units and Dr. Evans." She said to the nurse.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've had no reports of-"

"Do it, now!" Sara screamed, unknowingly reaching for her weapon.

The nurse picked up the phone and called it in. Sara walked to the other end of the nurses station, reached over the counter, and pulled up the phone. Dialing 9 she obtained a dial tone and called Brass.

"Brass,"

"Please, Jim, come to the hospital. There's been trouble. Call Seb," Sara said, her fatigue manifesting.

"All right, Cookie, I'll be right there," Brass said, hanging up with her and calling Seb.

"Robbins,"

"It's Brass, what's happened?"

"I don't know. I'm waiting on word. I think I have one man down as well as one civilian, but I don't know who. I also got an FAA report on an unauthorized chopper trying to land on the roof of the hospital. We're tracing it now." Seb replied, his voice showing his fatigue and frustration.

"Okay, man, I'm headed to the hospital," Brass replied as he got into his Taurus.

"I'm right behind you," Seb replied.

Sean Brennan holstered his gun and tried to stop the flow of blood from Kevin's chest. He tried not to get emotional. He tried to stay calm, but it was difficult. The elevator door opened with the ADA 'ping' and he pulled his gun, taking a defensive stance.

"Stand down, Agent. I am Paul Evans, you called for me and my team," Paul said, his hands in the air.

Sean holstered his gun again and stepped away, loosening his tie. Paul went first to Agent Donner and performed a triage-style exam on him.

"Okay, GSW and pneumothorax, get him straight down to the OR. His blood type is on his ID. Go, go!" he shouted, walking to the phone on the wall of the elevator housing.

"This is Evans; I have a pneumothorax coming to you. Gunshot to the chest," Paul said, hanging up the phone.

He looked at the next body and saw he was dead from multiple gunshots in a tight circle to his chest. More surprised, he saw that Grissom was holding the gun. Gently he rolled him onto his back. Quickly he looked for any injury; none presented, he listened to his heart. It was beating very slowly. Taking a guess, he smelled Grissom's breath, and it smelled the same way it did when he came in from his kidnapping.

"Call Sara," Paul instructed Sean.

Sean speed dialed Sara and handed the phone to Paul.

"Sidle,"

"Did you come up with a narcotic cocktail from all of this crap?" Paul asked, his emotions riding high.

"Miss, there are no cell phones allowed on the patient floors," the nurse said loudly.

"Yeah, I did, basically it's a poor man's methadone. It's dimethyl plus an amino plus diphenyl plus a heptene. Why?" Sara said, glaring at her.

"I think Grissom got what the guy in ICU got; a double dose of the narcotic. Okay I know how to treat this. We'll be down soon." Paul said, handing the phone back to Sean before instructing his team to get Grissom onto the gurney.

They rolled Grissom into the elevator and then down to six. Rolling him down the corridor, Sara ran to his side, only to be gently pushed back by Paul.

"I need him first, Sara." He said, walking by the gurney.

Jim walked out of the elevator, his step uncertain, until he saw Sara at the nurses' station.

"Oh, Kiddo, how is he?" he asked, carefully enclosing her with his arms.

"I don't know, Jim. Paul asked about the narcotic balance. He thinks Grissom was given an overdose. Agent Donner, I think was shot. I heard Sean talk to someone over the walkie talkie. Jim, hold me, I'm so scared." Sara pulled him closer into an embrace.

"Okay, I'm here. You're okay, sweetheart. Let me check in," he said, pulling back for a moment.

He walked into Grissom's room and stood as the blood drained from his face at the life saving measures they were undertaking. He walked out into the hallway.

"They're working on him," he said, guiding her to the waiting room.

The elevator door slid open and a very angry Seb Robbins stalked onto the floor with four agents on his tail.

"Elevator, fire exit, Grissom times 2," he said, more angry than he could articulate.

Jim walked up to him and embraced him, the way men do just to say 'hey I'm here for you buddy,'. Seb nodded and then looked for his men. He found Brennan and got the shaky rundown.

"Are you going to be here for a while?" he asked Jim.

"Yeah, whatever you need, Seb," Jim replied.

"Okay, I have to check on something; two men on Grissom, one on the elevator and the nearest fire exit. Sara and Helen still have their own agents. Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm on it, I won't move." Jim said, more than slightly unnerved.

Paul stripped Grissom to his shorts and found the puncture wound on his left tricep. He did a chemical analysis, put him on oxygen and then on medicines to counteract the drugs in his body. Grissom had been drugged, but in conjunction with the other hits his body had taken recently, he was in rough shape.

An hour later, a nurse came up to Paul. He walked out of Grissom's room and walked down the hall. He looked at Jim, his face pale.

"Agent Donner's injuries were too much, we were too late. He's gone." He said softy.

Jim nodded and hugged him for support as Sara lowered her face to her hands and cried. The elevator door slid open and Agent Thibodeau walked out with Helen two steps behind. Jim left Paul and walked up to the agent to give him the bad news about Kevin. He straightened his shoulders and turned to sign to Helen. She grasped his arm tightly and then signed back. Paul left them and went to Sara.

"Look, he's going to be asleep at least until four this afternoon. Why don't you get some sleep?" he said.

"Can I see him, please? Then I'll go home and sleep."

"Sure,"

Sara picked up her large purse and walked in, standing just inside the doorway. There seemed to be more machines connected; some softly beeping, others whirring, as she listened. He looked smaller, paler, than she could have imagined. She walked to his side, kissing his cheek.

"Please don't leave me alone," she whispered as she held his hand.

For a moment, she thought she saw him move to awaken, but then he was still. She pulled a pair of sweats, shorts, a t-shirt, and his Adidas from her bag and set them in the closet. She kissed him again and left the room.

"I'll stay; after all, I didn't work all night," Roger said to her.

"Thanks. I'll stop by when I wake up," Sara said, hugging him.

I'll be back. I have to sleep. she signed to Helen.

I understand. I have to work from the hotel. Big show next week. Helen signed.

Sara hugged her, found Agent Brennan, and left for home.

"I'm going back to the hotel to work." Helen said to Roger.

"I'll see you later," Roger said, turning to walk towards the room.

Helen put her hand on his shoulder. He turned and leaned forward to receive the kiss she was offering.

"Thank you for caring about my son."

"He's a good boy," Roger replied softly.

"The resemblance is uncanny, you know. You could have been Gilbert's brother."

"That's what throws your son, sometimes,"

Helen nodded and then turned to search for Agent Thibodeau.

Roger walked into Grissom's room. He turned off all of the lights, pulled down the shades, and sat in a chair by the window.

4:00pm

Grissom awoke. Moments later, the door opened from the hallway and a nurse walked in. She turned on the lights over the bed and Grissom winced from the brightness.

"Are you all right, Dr. Grissom?"

"I need to use the toilet,"

"Okay, let me take the telemetry leads off." She said, leaning over to start turning off machines.

A few minutes later, he was able to climb out of bed and enter the bathroom. The nurse left the room after straightening his bed. It was quiet in the room. Almost ten minutes later, Grissom reappeared. He stood in the doorway, looking at the figure in the chair.

"Are you okay?" Roger asked.

"I need to sit down," Grissom said, reaching for the bathrobe, realizing that he was cold, just dressed in the almost transparent hospital shorts.

He slipped on the robe, not cinching it, and went to the chair opposite Roger. Holding his side, he gently lowered himself. Roger watched him closely.

"I'll be right back," Roger said, standing to walk out into the hallway.

Grissom shut his eyes and rested his head in his right hand. Roger walked into the hallway and looked around. Jim was talking on a land line at the nurse's station and Seb was talking to an agent at the elevator. Roger waved to him and he walked up quickly.

"Grissom's awake, if you want to talk to him."

Seb nodded and walked into the room with Roger close behind. Seb went to the chair and sat down, looking at Grissom. Roger leaned against the bed.

"Grissom, I'm Seb Robbins, FBI."

Grissom raised his head and opened his eyes slowly. He gave him a tired smile.

"You're Al's brother from Washington. I've heard a great deal about you."

"Same here, look I need to know what happened on the roof this morning." He said quietly.

"I woke up from a dream and needed to work some things out. So Kevin and I headed up to the roof. The door opened, we took a couple of steps and then stopped. It was almost blindingly bright. From behind the elevator housing, a man walked out and shot Kevin. He ordered me to pick Kevin up and put him in the shade. As I knelt with Kevin, the man injected me with something. I heard a loud noise and the rotors of a helicopter. The man walked away from me, shouting into his phone. I pulled Kevin's gun from its holster and shot the man. Then I shot the helicopter." Grissom reported, his voice void of emotion.

"You shot the helicopter? What did it look like?"

"It was a black Bell 206B helicopter. There was a red dragon painted near the tail rotor."

Seb looked at him with tired amusement.

"I'm paid to observe. Plus, I don't sleep much, so I watch the Discovery and History channels on television." Grissom elaborated.

"Do you know if you hit it?"

"I hit the port door, the skids, and the undercarriage."

"Kevin's gun was empty. You pumped four rounds into your attacker and shot everything else at the chopper." Seb remarked.

Grissom closed his eyes and leaned forward, putting his face in his hands.

"I'll let you get your sleep." Seb said, standing.

Roger walked him out into the hallway. Seb turned around to face him.

"That was a brave thing he did."

"Pure instinct and reaction," Roger remarked, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Remarkable," Seb said, before walking away to call in Grissom's information.

"How is he?" Paul asked, adjusting his stethoscope, holding Grissom's chart in his hand.

"He's sitting in the chair by the window. Physically he's tired and mentally he's depressed." Roger commented.

"Give me a minute," Paul said, entering the room.

Roger nodded and went to join Jim.

Grissom sat quietly in the semi-darkness of the room. He heard the door shut and the footsteps as the person walked to the chair opposite him. He heard the vinyl give when the person sat down.

"How are you feeling, Grissom?"

Grissom opened his eyes and held his head straight up. He looked at Paul, his eyes dark blue.

"I'm sore, tired, a little anxious, and a little cold. Paul, I want to go home. Please. I need to be at my home." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Paul looked at him and read the chart.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Last night, Kevin gave me a candy bar."

"And you kept it down?" Paul asked.

"Yes,"

"Okay, I want to check you out, give you your prescription for Prilosec and Amoxycillin for your ulcer, and then send you on your merry way. Come over here to the light." Paul said, standing.

Grissom stood slowly and walked to the bed. He sat down on the edge while Paul poked, prodded and listened. Finally, he took a step back.

"Grissom, who is going to take you home?"

"Roger, he's staying in the guest room."

"Okay, I'm going to go get him." Paul said, walking into the hallway.

"Roger, can you come in, please?" he asked.

Roger left the conversation he was having with Jim and walked in.

"I am releasing Grissom, but there are some strict instructions for you. What he needs is peace and quiet. I'll give you the prescription for his ulcer meds and a work sheet on his modified diet. Although his ulcer is technically caused by bacteria, it can get further aggravated by stomach acids. Check the closet, I think Sara brought clothes for him today. I'll get the paperwork and meet you at the nurse's station." Paul said, leaving the two men alone.

Jim saw Paul walk out of the room and followed him.

"How is he?"

"I'm releasing him. He needs complete rest and then a follow-up with his own physician as well as Andy. I'm hoping that the familiar surroundings will help him. He's rightfully upset about the shooting and he says he's sore and tired." Paul said, writing notes in the chart.

"I'll tell Seb. I'm sure you'll be happy to see the FBI go."

"Well, it will be quieter." Paul said, pulling out his prescription pad.

Jim walked down the hallway to Seb, who was talking to the agents guarding Grissom.

"Paul's letting him go."

"Okay, Lenny and Scott, we're handling this high level. Secure the townhouse and then one man inside one man outside. Okay?" Seb said.

"Yes, sir," they responded.

"I'm heading back to the office. I'll talk to you at some point, I'm sure," Jim said, before walking to the elevator.

Roger helped Grissom get dressed, seeing the bruising and bandages for the first time. He looked fragile, somehow. Grissom sat in the chair by the window and looked out onto the city. A nurse brought in a wheelchair and left the room. Grissom sat in the wheelchair, allowing Roger to adjust the foot pads. Taking one last look around, Roger wheeled Grissom into the bright hallway. Grissom hissed against the pain his eyes felt before he was able to shade them with his hand.

"Dr. Grissom? I am Lenny Spradlin and this is Scott Hayfield. We will be your agents." The red headed man said.

"Call me, Grissom, okay? Let's go, Roger." Grissom said, his head still down.

Lenny walked ahead to the elevator while Scott took a position behind.

"Bugman is on the move," Lenny said.

"Artist is at the hotel," Tibbs reported.

"Dancer is at the townhouse," Brennan reported.

"Control is at the hospital," Seb reported.

"Bugman is en route to the town house."

Paul turned to Roger and handed him the paperwork. Grissom signed the release form and handed the clipboard back to Paul.

"Take care, Grissom," Paul said, softly.

"Thanks, Paul,"

Roger pushed him to the elevator and all four men got in. As they landed on the ground floor, Scott walked ahead to bring the SUV to the door. A few minutes later, he pulled up and got out of the car. Walking up to Grissom, he handed him a baseball cap with the FBI emblem on it. Grissom put it on low over his eyes.

"Thanks, Scott,"

"No problem, Grissom. Let's get you out of here," he said, setting the locks on the wheelchair before pulling him to his feet.

Grissom walked to the SUV and got into the back seat with Roger next to him. The agents sat up front. Roger reached over and helped Grissom with his harness as Scott slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Grissom lay his head back onto the headrest, his eyes closed.