Chapter Thirteen
5:00pm
The elevator opened and Jim walked onto the floor. Immediately, he saw a person lying on the floor midway down the hall. He pulled his weapon and ran towards the figure. Looking at the man he rolled him to his back and started to awaken him.
"Scott? It's Jim Brass, what happened?"
He sat up against the wall, his head in his left hand.
"He went crazy," Scott said matter-of-factly.
"Tell me what happened."
"I heard breaking glass and went into the room. He was trashing the place. He saw me, and attacked me."
"Where is everyone?"
"Sara and her crew went to the townhouse about an hour ago, to clean up. Seb called Lenny for a meeting." Scott said, softly.
Jim reached for his phone and speed dialed Seb.
"Robbins,"
"Jim Brass, we have trouble. Grissom freaked. He decked Scott and left the hotel. Do you have Kang's hotel room monitored?"
"No,"
"He should be there, soon," Jim said, running to the elevator.
"Shit,"
"Yeah, I'm on my way,"
"No, we just found Conrad Ecklie. He checked himself into a psychiatric facility the day Grissom was kidnapped from the hospital."
"Seb," Brass inquired again.
"I'm right behind you, I just have to get your guy Hayes to follow up on Ecklie."
Grissom's taxi arrived at the Bellagio and he got out as if in a dream. He just wanted the whole mess to be over. He walked into the lobby and then to the elevator. He waited patiently and walked into the first car. Pressing 25, he leaned against the back wall. Moments later, the fast elevator arrived and he walked out. The floor was empty as he made his way to Kang's suite. He pressed the button and took a step back. The door opened slowly and an Asian man motioned for him to enter.
"Dr. Grissom, you are a surprise." a tall man in a silk suit, said, from his position behind a computer screen.
"Peregrinus," Grissom replied softly, as he entered the room.
"You feel you are a pilgrim? How interesting!" The man replied, shutting off the computer to stand and greet his guest.
"Death means the attainment of heaven; victory means the enjoyment of earth. Therefore, rise up...resolved to fight!" Grissom replied.
"Having made yourself alike in pain and pleasure, profit and loss, victory and defeat, engage in this great battle and you will be freed from sin." Kang responded.
"Bhagavad-Gita, you are commended," Grissom remarked.
"What, that I am a scholar of eastern philosophy, hardly. I think you, Dr. Grissom, are more interesting." Kang replied.
"What do you want from me?"
"I would have thought you'd figured that out. If not the money then your life," Kang said, softly.
Grissom smiled, hell, he had to. He was exhausted and this man was threatening him. He walked away and turned to face his accuser; now almost fifteen feet distant. He stood, square on his feet, to address his opponent.
"I don't know where the money is." his voice was clear and firm.
"We'll see." Kang replied before speaking rapidly in Mandarin to his bodyguard.
The man grabbed Grissom, holding his arms behind him as Kang walked to an ornate box. He opened it and removed a vial and a hypodermic needle. He withdrew an amount of the amber liquid and sealed the vial again. He walked up to Grissom who stood still in defiance. Kang unbuttoned Grissom's shirt, revealing the surgical scar and the discoloring from his healing bruises. Slipping the shirt off his shoulders, Kang injected Grissom with the liquid. The guard released him; Grissom's shirt fell to the floor. His face flushed as he started to breathe faster.
"Dr. Grissom, where is the money?" Kang asked.
Grissom tried to stand still and upright but the drug was taking effect and altering what he knew was reality. With all of the energy and focus he replied. All sound was amplified almost to the point of pain.
"When my father became an informant, the government seized the money." he said in a quiet voice.
"I know that," Kang spat, charging Grissom. "In 2001, he stole the money. It's been four years, where's the money?" He said, encircling Grissom's throat with his hands, pushing him against the wall.
"Enough!" Grissom shouted with the last of his energy, pushing against his aggressor, a headache looming from the volume of his own voice.
"LVPD, open up the door," Brass shouted from the hallway, after hearing Grissom inside.
Kang looked at the door for a moment and then to his guard, speaking to him again in Mandarin. The guard went into the bedroom. Then all hell broke loose. The door opened and Jim quickly walked in, his gun drawn.
"Christopher Kang, you are under arrest for the murders of Gilbert Grissom and Sofia Curtis." he announced.
Kang released his hold on Grissom, pulled a gun, shooting Jim twice. It was fast, and the drug was manipulating time and sound; Grissom did nothing. There was one loud noise and then all he heard was silence. His body was still between the police and Kang as a shield. Grissom suddenly felt his mojo engage as he lunged for the gun. Kang was caught off guard and soon they were on the floor, the weapon between them. The bodyguard ran in from the bedroom, shooting, and was immediately shot by the police officer at the door. Seb cautiously walked into the room just as another gun went off. The two men on the floor stopped moving. He walked by Jim's still body and knelt on the carpet. He rolled one man off the other. Kang had a bullet wound center chest. Grissom was covered in blood, lying on his back, unconscious. He felt for a pulse and for several seconds couldn't feel it, as it was so weak. He turned and got to his feet.
"Did you call an ambulance?" he yelled at the officer at the door.
"Yes, yes sir," the man stammered in reply.
Lenny walked in and looked at the scene, shaking his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and drew his gun before comprehending what he was seeing. Jim was alive. He replaced his gun and ran to the stricken man. He ripped open Jim's white shirt and saw the two bullets lodged in the Kevlar vest. One was center but one was very close to the top of the vest. He had hit his head on a mahogany table as he had fallen and there was a lot of blood.
"Take it easy, Jim. Just stay down. Don't move." Lenny advised. "Get another ambulance!"
"How's Gil?" he asked, his eyes closed tightly.
"Alive, but barely. I found another needle." Seb said, crouching next to his colleague.
11:00pm
Grissom awoke from a violent nightmare, kept in check by the tight restraints. It didn't keep him from screaming Jim's name at the top of his lungs. Paul ran into the darkened room to calm his patient. He had forbidden visitors in ICU for Grissom.
"Ok, Grissom, you're okay," his voice sounding muffled to Grissom.
"Let me die, I don't care. I killed Jim," Grissom shouted, his voice ragged, his eyes searching.
"No, no, you aren't going to die and neither is Jim, at least not today. He had his vest on, Grissom. Do you understand what I am saying? Relax, nice and easy," Paul elaborated, his face above Grissom's, his hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.
"I have to see him, please." Grissom pled, still speaking loudly.
"Okay, but only on my terms, understood? If I tell you enough, it's enough." He replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I understand, whatever you want, Paul," Grissom said loudly, the sweat now visible in his hairline.
"Relax for a minute, I need to snag a wheelchair," Paul said, his hand on Grissom's shoulder.
"Okay," he replied, closing his eyes and falling asleep.
11:15pm
"Grissom, let's go, man," Paul cajoled, loudly.
Grissom opened his eyes and saw five people surrounding his bed to control the different IVs he had running.
"Listen to me. We need to get you into the wheelchair. But there are steps. We'll go slowly," Paul said carefully.
Twenty minutes later, a tired, sweaty Grissom was on his way from his bed in ICU to Jim's bed not more than twenty five feet away. As Jim had a concussion, Paul felt he couldn't be moved to Grissom. They swung by the nurse's station and Paul saw what he assumed was the entire CSI staff. He held his hand up to stop them as they started to rise from their various positions and rolled Grissom into Jim's room.
Jim's head was bandaged and there was blood seeping through. His neck was in a collar and overall he was very pale. The sheet was set at his waist and the dark blue bruises from the bullets were readily apparent. Paul wheeled Grissom as close as he could and engaged the locks. Grissom looked at his friend and the tears started. Paul touched Jim's arm. He awoke and looked around him, seeing Grissom.
"You're alive!" Jim uttered.
"Ditto," Grissom replied loudly.
"How?"
"Those muttonheads used the same stuff that Sara identified." Paul remarked.
"Yeah, muttonheads. Why are you speaking so loudly? "Jim asked, in a tired voice.
Grissom looked at Paul, bewildered.
"He still has the drugs in his system. He'll be fine tomorrow." Paul explained to both men.
Jim smiled at Grissom whose face was unreadable.
"I felt the shots pass by me and assumed you were dead, I mean at that distance." Grissom remarked.
"Seb loaned me a new prototype vest. Hell, I'll probably have to pay for the damn thing now."
"Kang thought I had a lot of money. If that's true, I'll pay for it."
"Gil, never trust a crook," Jim warned, grinning.
"Right, I'll remember," Grissom said, slowly falling asleep from the pain relievers and the events of the previous days.
Jim smiled and closed his eyes, joining his friend in sleep.
Friday 8:00am
Sara walked onto the floor. Paul had forbidden all visitors and then she had her shift. She was a wreck. Scott stood outside the door, the bruises quite visible. Sara touched his cheek before she walked in.
Grissom looked frail, but somehow better to her. He was still restrained, but his head could move, and the IVs were gone. His head was turned away from the windows. Sara walked to them, dropped the shades and made the room darker. Grissom settled, his face more neutral. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. His body responded.
"Sara?"
"I'm here," she replied, turning to hold his hand.
"Ah, God, I have so many things I want to say to you." Grissom said, his emotions running high.
"I love you, Gil Grissom," she whispered, kissing him again.
"Please, hold me,"
Sara leaned her body to him and held him as well as the restraints would let her. She felt him shake with emotion.
"No, I won't ever leave you," Grissom said softly in her ear before falling asleep again.
6:00pm
He woke again to see her sitting in the chair by his bed. He tried to reach her, but the restraints were too tight. He tried hard, the alarms pinging as his blood pressure hit the upper limit. Sara woke up just before the nurse came in.
"Hey, I'm here, you're okay. Just relax." she soothed, watching him slowly fall back to sleep.
Sat. 1:10am
Grissom woke up and needed to move. He struggled against the restraints, again alerting the nurses.
"Yes, Dr. Grissom?"
"Please, I need to stand,"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Evans was very clear..."
"I don't care, I need to get out of here," he yelled.
The door opened and Andy walked in.
"Jesus, Gil, I heard you at the elevator. Let's get these restraints off." He said, starting to remove them.
"Excuse me, who are you?"
"I'm Andy Hayes, police department psychiatrist, I'm on the list." he said before looking at Grissom, "Okay, where do you want to go?"
Grissom was silent, standing slowly, walking out to the hall with Andy at his side. He headed to the elevator and paused.
"You sure?" Andy asked.
Grissom nodded, standing in a t-shirt and scrub pants. Andy reached for a wall phone and cleared the elevator. They went up to the roof and Grissom took one step before freezing. He stood there, remembering both instances. Andy stood and watched him. Grissom started to shake and Andy took him by the shoulders, directing him back into the waiting elevator. Andy held onto him tightly, speaking to him in a calm voice, until they reached the sixth floor. Slowly, they walked back to Grissom's room and he crawled into bed.
Saturday 8pm
Helen, Tibbs, and Roger walked into Grissom's room. They paused, seeing the empty bed.
"He's taking a walk," a nurse said, walking by them to change his sheets.
The group walked back into the hallway and looked for him. Turning a corner, they saw Grissom in his hospital bathrobe, slowly making his way back to them. He looked up and smiled, continuing his trek. Five minutes later, he reached his room. His mother and Roger both hugged him before helping him into bed.
"Thanks, Paul says I can get out tomorrow,"
"Really?" Roger asked.
"Yeah, but there are some rules," Grissom said, falling asleep.
Sunday 1pm
Sara stood in the kitchen, following Roger's careful directions for the h'ors d'ouevres while Grissom fed his friends in the Lab Room. He had been released from the hospital that morning, promising to be quiet, and not return to work for a week. The doorbell rang and Sara answered it. The crew arrived with Jim walking cautiously. His arm was in a sling and it still hurt to breathe. The bell rang again and Catherine opened the door. The Robbins Brothers arrived, taking immediate charge. The bell rang once more, and Catherine ushered in Rory, finally deciding to leave the door slightly ajar. Sara walked into the Lab Room. Grissom had his headphones on and was hunched over the drawing board. She tapped her foot on the floor and he turned to look at her.
"You're on," Sara said, waiting for him.
He removed his headphones, stopped the CD, and closed his sketchbook, and then headed for the living room.
"Hey, Griss," Nick greeted him as he walked out the door of the Lab Room.
"Hey, Pancho," Grissom replied, the communiqué not lost on the younger man.
Nick responded with his megawatt smile. Grissom stood, chatting with Nick for a moment before excusing himself and walking to the breakfast bar. He took a breath and started.
"Uhm, excuse me. I wanted to thank you for coming. I think, uhm, we think, that the last two weeks have really tested the lab and I wanted to thank you for your support as well as give you a chance to..." Grissom stopped, at a loss as Ecklie walked in.
He stood in the quiet apartment for a minute before Grissom went to him He knew that he had been released from the psychiatric hospital the day before, but he didn't think he's come to the gathering.
"Conrad, I'm so sorry." He said, embracing the other man.
Ecklie was thrown off guard. but his emotions took control as he held on to Grissom tightly. As he quieted, Grissom withdrew.
"She never told me, I swear it," Ecklie whispered to him.
Jim walked up to Grissom. His broken ribs were evident in his movement.
"Man, I need a moment," He looked at Ecklie, who nodded.
"Sure," Grissom replied, walking down the hallway to the guest room.
He turned and faced his best friend. He looked into his eyes and saw the look he never saw as a child. Grissom reached his right hand gently behind Jim's head and drew him towards him.
"I'm so sorry," Jim whispered.
"It's not your fault. None of it," Grissom replied.
"I want to talk about it," Jim started.
"Me too, but not with them, here. You and I, alone, but until that time, I love you as the brother my mother didn't produce." Grissom said, embracing Jim gently.
The two men stood, crying openly, until there was a knock on the door.
"Guys, we need you in the living room." Sara said, softly.
The two friends pulled apart, pulled themselves together, and walked slowly back into the living room. They saw the group together, the lab, the Robbins' Brothers, and the Sheriff.
"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for your loss. I also wanted to say that you are the most intense investigator I have ever met, and I thank God, every day that you're on my team in Vegas." Rory said, in a quiet voice.
"Thank you," Grissom replied, feeling the effects of the excitement and his fatigue.
The others cheered loudly.
"Okay, gang, the event will continue at Nick's house." Catherine said loudly.
"Why at my house?"
"You're the bachelor!" Warrick said with a smile.
They gathered up the spare booze and food and within thirty minutes the townhouse was silent.
Grissom walked into the lab room. He opened the sketch book and looked at the last fifteen images.
"I thought Roger would stop by," Jim commented.
"He took Helen to dinner and a show. They felt it was a 'work' party," Sara said, cleaning up the kitchen.
She watched Grissom walk quickly to the hallway and then heard a door close and the sound of him vomiting. Sighing, she continued to organize.
"I've gotta go," Jim said, uncomfortable now.
"You are not going without saying goodbye to him," Sara instructed firmly.
A few moments later, Grissom walked out of the bathroom, a strong Listerine odor coming from him.
"Hey, man, I gotta go." Jim said, looking at him.
Grissom walked up and embraced him carefully.
"You saved my life," Grissom said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Hardly,"
"You distracted them, I am alive because of you," he insisted.
Jim took a breath and decided not to argue.
"You know," Jim said, his own voice filled with tears.
"I know, and I am grateful every day," Grissom replied.
Jim walked to the door, kissing Sara before leaving them alone. She turned to look at Grissom. He was staring at the wall where the stereo was located. She walked up behind him, her hands reaching around him for support.
"Please, Griss, let's go to bed," she asked.
"Ok," he said, walking back to the staircase.
He was tired, physically and mentally. He walked up the circular stairs into the bedroom. Padding to the closet, he dropped his shirt, trousers and shorts. His socks and shoes followed, somehow. He walked by habit to the shower and turned it on. Feeling the hot water, he closed his eyes and tried to shake off the heavy feeling he had. He heard a faint noise but continued to revel in the hot water surrounding him. The glass door opened and Sara entered the shower. He wiped his eyes and watched her stand under her own shower head. She pushed her hair back, letting the water hit against her shoulders. Opening her eyes, she saw him. Sara went to him, pushing him against the marble wall of the shower, feeling his body against hers as she kissed him deeply. He was slow to respond and she pushed further, needing him now. Gently, he pushed her away.
"Sara, yield to me," Grissom said, his voice soft and gentle.
She took a step back under her jet of water and waited, her hands to her sides, feeling the cool marble behind her. Grissom looked at her, his eyelashes wet as his shower coursed over his shoulder. Slowly, without breaking her gaze, he moved to her. His right hand found her hip, his left hand found her breast, his mouth, hers. He kissed her, and in that kiss revealed his emotional soul.
Finally pulling back to enthrall her again, he looked at her. She moaned under his powerful stare and tried to move. He held her tightly and kissed her again with more power and passion. He started then, a slow rhythm of touches, caresses and kisses. He had no schedule, no time limit, it was almost musical, her moans, his movements and the underlying sound of the shower.
He reached for her, pushing her against the marble, changing the rhythm, somewhat. Her breath caught for a second and then started.
"God, yes, Gil," she muttered into his ear.
He picked her up, her legs around his hips, her hands floating over his back, her mouth on his. He waited, listening to her breathing and his body responding. Suddenly, he filled her, pushing her against the corner of the shower, the water cascading over his right side. He kissed her passionately and she responded. He ramped it up and she followed, nipping his neck, tugging at his beard. He growled, which inspired her more.
"Come on," she said, her voice low and urgent.
He stopped thinking and simply did, feeling, in a hypersensitive way, every part of his body and how it seemed to touch her; what it did to her. He knew he couldn't hold on. He tried with every last ounce of energy, but then he came and she did, too. It was so crushing, so emotional, and so powerful, he felt his legs start to give, until she squeezed with some muscles he had never felt. He groaned gratefully and stood fast.
"I love you," She said over the rush of the shower.
"I love you, too," he said, kissing her deeply.
Gently he disengaged and returned her feet to the floor of the shower. Finishing a quick wash of each other, she reached up and turned off the water. They stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Walking into the bedroom, Grissom stopped, looking at the empty space above the bed where the Jenkins used to hang. His mother insisted it be sent to her shop to be restored. Sara slipped her hand in his and escorted him to the bureau and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He put on the shorts and resisted the shirt, insisting instead that she wear it. She smiled at him and followed him to bed. He got into bed, exhausted, and waited for her. She turned off the light and got into bed. Rolling on her side, she felt him spoon against her.
