Author: Signs Of Sun
Series Title: Touched By Gravity
Genre: General/Angst (Series)
Characters: Nick and Sara. Whole team although light on Greg.
Spoilers: None for future episodes, but a few references to past seasons.
Summary: Nick's investigation of a case is abruptly interrupted. It may take a little teamwork to solve the case with him out of commission. Or is he really? Just might he still be able to provide an essential connection to the truth?
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Touched By Gravity III
The night's crispness washed over Sara's face as she stepped through the door and out into the parking lot. Its impact pulled her body further out of the warm cocoon of grogginess she had wandered the day trapped inside of. The half emptied coffee cup grasped in her right hand had made its own considerable contributions also while back inside the lab. She was fairly confident it was her third cup and not her fourth as Greg had insisted it was. Finally released from Grissom duty though she'd slowed down her pace a little anyway. In fact, Grissom had even snagged Greg to wrap up the loose ends of his case so she would be freed up to play catch up on Nick's. Wherever Nick was that is. Grissom had attempted to call him on his cell, receiving only his voice mail, and Warrick had tried his home phone, rewarded there only with the answering machine.
"Hey Sara wait up!" she heard a voice call out from behind her. Sara stopped and turned to see Warrick and Catherine casually making their way across the parking lot towards her. Taking a slow sip from her coffee she waited for them.
"You headed out to the crime scene?" Catherine questioned as they finally reached her.
"Yeah. Thought I better at least see the crime scene once before Nick has the case wrapped up. Then I can say I did something," Sara replied with a grin.
"Nick's place is on the way to our case so we're going to swing by and see about waking that sleepyhead up."
"You guys just can't pass up the chance to tease him, can you?"
"Guilty as charged," Warrick admitted. He shifted his weight from his left foot to the right and back then scuffed the bottom of his shoe across the pavement. Hiding anxiety was never his forte. Both of his coworkers noticed, but Sara was first to comment on it.
"I'm sure he just overslept and will be thoroughly embarrassed when you two appear on his doorstep."
"She's right Warrick. I was talking to Ecklie earlier and he was griping about Nick still being here hours after we all we had gone home to bed."
"Yeah. I know. You're probably right. But it's not like him to not answer his cell."
"That's weird," Sara commented. Her gaze was focused on something over Warrick's right shoulder.
"What?"
"Well Nick may not be here, but his vehicle is," Sara responded and with her free hand pointed off to the corner of the lot. Both Catherine and Warrick twisted to look over their shoulders to the spot she indicated. There sat Nick's SUV, dark and empty. Motion returned to all three after a still beat. At a brisk walk they headed for the vehicle.
"Yeah, that's it," Warrick responded after taking a quick peek at the license plate.
"Did he get here in the last couple minutes and we just missed him maybe?" Catherine suggested as she studied the vehicle more closely, moving towards the drivers side until she reached the hood.
"I don't think so, but I'll check it out," Warrick responded. His voice now held a tauntness that revealed his renewed concern.
"Go ahead but I don't think you'll find him," Catherine stated as she left the front end of the SUV and peered inside the drivers side of the truck.
"Why not?"
"Engine's cold. It's been here a while."
"I'm goin' to check anyway," Warrick replied already in motion back towards the building.
"I swear if he vanished into thin air again…" Catherine's started before letting the words fade in volume until they were only inside her head.
"What?" Sara asked.
"When we find him, I'm going to wring his neck," Catherine commented.
"That doesn't seem to make any sense. Go through the trouble of finding him to just throttle him?"
"Well first I'll hug him. Then I'll wring his neck."
"Oh-well-that makes much more sense. I think."
Warrick's return drew their attention.
"He logged out one of the lab vehicles a couple hours ago. He's probably out at the crime scene and lost track of time," he informed them. There was relief in his tone and his body had released some of its tension. Catherine let out an exhale she'd been holding on to and Sara couldn't resist making a comment to lighten the air.
"Damn. And here I was hoping I would actually get to at least see the crime scene while it was still an unsolved crime."
"You just wanted to put in for more overtime. See if you can set the record for most hours in a week," Warrick proposed with a relieved grin and confident bob of the head.
"That's not it, is it Sara? You wanted to be the one to swoop in and find the vital piece of the puzzle that cracks the case. That's the real reason, isn't it Sara?" Catherine followed up with.
"Well, okay maybe just a little," Sara confessed, adorning a smirk.
"We should head out I guess," Catherine announced. She landed a light pat on Warrick's shoulder to prompt him into action.
"See ya Sara," he offered and tailed his partner off to the left to their awaiting vehicle.
"Yeah see you then. Case all wrapped up and solved with a big red bow." Sara began to head off to her own SUV when Warrick's voice regained her attention.
"Hey and tell Nick to turn his phone on already!" he called out as he jumped into the drivers side of the Tahoe.
"Will do."
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The headlights of the Tahoe bounced off the white metal of the next mailbox along Cody Road, illuminating the number 732 there.
"Here we go," Sara stated almost eagerly. Turning into the long driveway she slowed down and clicked the radio off. She liked to listen at a volume that drown out everything else sometimes and just be inside it while she drove. It kept the all too frequent and circular thoughts to a minimum so she could go into a case with plenty of mind space for the new information that would leap out at her upon stepping into the crime scene. Finally the range of the headlight beams reached the end of the driveway, shining brightly back in her eyes off the taillights of Nick's SUV parked there.
Cutting the engine Sara was suddenly thrust into blackness. She looked around and discovered there was only a sole light on in the one of the front rooms of the house and that was all. The rest of the property was unlit and quiet. She grabbed her flashlight and kit and went in search of Nick.
"Nick! Nick! It's Sara. Where are you?" she called out from just inside the doorway of the house. Her voice echoed back to her ears, but no response followed it. The crime scene seal on the door had been cut so he was in the house somewhere. Most likely Nick was out of earshot so she went from room to room downstairs, eliminating one at a time as Nick's whereabouts.
"Hey Nick!" she announced her presence a second time as she slowly climbed the staircase. Again a tense silence answered her. For a few seconds she paused at the top of the stairs, her gut sending up a red flag that something wasn't right. All the lights upstairs were off, but Sara decided to check it out anyway. There was something churned up in her, screaming out to her mind that something was off, so she proceeded flashlight in one hand and gun in the other.
She didn't holster it until she was standing in the last bedroom which from its contents appeared to be that of Amlyn Marshall, the victim. The house was empty, but she couldn't seem to dismiss the ominous feeling gnawing away at her.
Sara wandered the room with her flashlight skimming over the physical reminders of a young life live and lost. For some reason the photos were always the hardest to look at. There was some sharp edged weapon embedded in them that tore at her mercilessly. They were frozen images of someone living life who wouldn't have another day, another moment to photograph with that light in their eyes.
So she looked away from the pictures and out through the window. Amlyn Marshall's bedroom overlooked the expansive backyard which included a second smaller building. Not as big as the house, but definitely not a garage or storage shed.
Sara made her way back through the house and out into the night, suspecting that this was where Nick had disappeared to. There didn't appear to be any lights on inside though she noted as she approached.
"Nick, it's me Sara!" she called out, announcing her presence to prevent surprising him. Stepping through the doorway she found only more darkness and that same thick silence that had hung in the air in the house. Sara looked back over her shoulder at two SUVs sitting in the driveway and that unsettled tingle arose in her gut again, stronger this time. The Tahoe, two dark and empty buildings, and hours that had gone by since anyone had seen Nick.
"Nick? Nick? You in here? It's Sara! I've finally arrived to solve the case for you. Nick!" she yelled out, shattering the stillness with the worry in it. With her flashlight she methodically panned the beam over the interior of the building from where she stood at the threshold of entering in completely.
"Whoa! What the heck happened in here?" she asked aloud. She continued to scan the room with her flashlight a small fraction at a time. Everything on the south side of the huge room looked normal but the north end was the exact opposite, a chaotic array of debris.
"Nick?" she called out one more time. After a few seconds of silence as a reply she was about to depart the studio and return to check the house more thoroughly for Nick, but curiosity got the better of her. She moved a few feet further into the room and inspected the debris laid out in front of her. Canvases, cans, tools, pieces of wood, drop cloths, and dozens of other objects littered the area. The question of where it all came from only flashed in her mind for a fraction of second before she tilted her head back and looked up, finding a gaping hole in the floor of the second level.
She moved the beam from her flashlight back down to the heap of wreckage directly underneath the spot. What the light happened to land upon cut short the inhale of air she had been taking into her lungs. There, just barely illuminated in the circle of light, was a person. Three quarters buried underneath the mountain of junk that had rained down from above there was definitely someone. The elbow and the upper portion of a person's right arm were visible. A portion of a jean clad leg poked out from below the edge of a pile of large white drop clothes.
Quickly making her way to the victim Sara put her fingertips to the person's wrist and found the sluggish beating of a heart. Carefully removing a drop cloth, two canvases, ceramic pottery pieces, and a few other assorted pieces of debris she finally made it down through the layers covering them. Before even shining the light directly on the person sprawled out on floor at her feet she saw the item that made her heart skip a beat. It was the all too familiar CSI vest, its reflective stripe standing out in the dim glow in the room, and then there on the chest the embroidered letters spelling out Stokes.
"Oh my god Nick!" she spat out as she moved the beam of her flashlight to his face. His features were relaxed and his eyes were closed.
"Nick? Nick? Can you hear me?" Sara called out as she knelt beside his still form. When she received no response she settled her gaze on his chest. The very subtle rise and fall of his body spiraled relief through her. Seeing that he was breathing on his own she retrieved her cell from her pocket without ever allowing her eyes to leave Nick's motionless form.
"911 Emergency."
"This is Sara Sidle. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I need a ambulance at 732 Cody Road. We have an injured CSI here."
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"So what do you think?" Brass questioned, his voice brimming with curiosity.
"I think Mrs. Gaston was a very flexible person," Grissom stated without removing his gaze from the form in the recliner a few feet in front of them.
"Yeah she had…how should I put it…talent," Brass responded, shaking his head at the scene. It made every bone and muscle in his body ache just looking at the vic, a contortionist. She had died while having sex that utilized her abilities. He and Gil exchanged an agreeing glance just as Grissom's cell began ringing. Pulling the phone from his pocket and flipping it open he saw it was Sara.
"Get out to the Marshall crime scene yet?" he inquired.
"Yeah. I'm here now. Gris, there was an accident here. Nick took a fall and..."
"Is he injured?" Grissom jumped in with before Sara could continue.
"Out cold. Ambulance is on the way. He…"
"Vitals?" Grissom asked interrupting her once again.
"I was getting to that. Pulse is sluggish but steady. His respirations are low though. Looks like the floor on the second level gave way."
"We'll meet you at the hospital?"
"Meet who at the hospital?" Brass asked the instant that Grissom closed the phone and spun to head towards the door. Brass tailed him through the maze of a crime scene as if they were racing to see who could hit the doorway first. He didn't even reduce his pace as he called over instructions to the CSI snapping photos in the entryway.
"Markowitz, stay here and process the scene and I'll check in with you."
"Gil? Gil!" Brass called out urgently, finally capturing his attention.
"That was Sara. Nick's been injured."
"How bad?"
"I know as much as you do right now."
"Maybe we should just stop letting him outside of the lab," Brass commented, at a half jog to keep alongside Grissom.
"I'm seriously considering it," the other man replied as they hopped into the Tahoe.
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Sara moved to stand in the doorway of the studio and looked longingly out at the darkness. The Marshall house stood on the outskirts of the city and the road leading away was much too long and far too empty at the moment. Perhaps it was the illusion of how time slows down when you are waiting but an eternity had passed and there was still not even a slightest trace of sirens approaching. Quiet had thoroughly taken hold on the night. She let her head fall to the side and rest against the frame of the door. The question of how long Nick had been lying there alone, buried underneath all that debris, crept into her mind. The paramedics would undoubtedly ask her and she was empty handed of an answer. A blend of sadness and guilt spread outward from her heart. She was supposed to have been on this case with him, but Grissom had needed her more and Nick got left behind. But Nick being the person he was had been understanding and it suddenly sprang into her mind that there were times when they all had taken advantage of that quality in him. This time it had been costly. It was funny how nobody noticed until something went wrong. And given what had happened to him not so long ago they were negligent for not taking better precautions. How quickly they let things slide. At the same time she could feel the irritation at Grissom swelling. If Greg had been there to utilize why had he kept her tied up so long with stuff Sanders could have certainly handled. The softest of noises, a near frustrated growl, slipped out her lips and into the dark. It nearly masked the sound that came from behind her, but she just caught the faint moan that emanated from Nick.
"Are you with me Nick?" she asked full of hope and quickly making her way back to him.
"Nick?" Sara whispered, kneeling down on the spot on the floor she had cleared away near his right side. Just as she leaned over his body to look straight down at his face his brown eyes peeked open just a tiny fraction. At first they were wild, moving rapidly and chaotically about.
"It's okay," Sara gently offered and his eyes focused on her. They were intensely dark and fearful which triggered her own to water with the beginnings of tears. To counteract them she drew on the relief that he was conscious to create a gentle smile for him. As he peered up at her a few seconds longer a grateful recognition poured into his eyes, lightening them slightly. It was fleeting though. Barely a heartbeat later he was seized with a sudden wave of pain. His body tensed up and he let out a agonizing grunt. Nick clamped his eyes closed, breaking the connection between them.
"It's alright. You're gonna be okay," Sara stated as if it was fact she read in a book. The confidence in it coming true flooded through inside the tone of her voice. Nick opened his mouth slightly but no sound came out. For a heartbeat he struggled to force the creation of words but was met with defeat in finding his voice. Sara watched as he ran his tongue over his lips and made another go at talking but the sound never arrived.
"It's okay Nick. You don't have to talk. There's an ambulance of the way. Looks like you took a pretty bad fall. But we're gonna take care of you."
He abandoned attempting to speak and his eyes peeked opened again.
"Hi there," she answered his action with. She locked eyes with him and held her breath while he gulped in an exaggerated inhale of air. She finally let the air out of her own lungs involuntarily when his face became strained like he was fighting back tears. He was clearly in pain and breathing was rapidly turning an uphill battle for him.
Sara slid her hand over top of his and wrapped her fingers in so they tucked into his palm. She gave it a gentle squeeze but his hand didn't react by holding on so she stayed connected with him by maintaining her gaze down at him. In the glow from the flashlight that she had laid beside her leg she saw what was left of his color completely drain from his face and he started to gasp for air.
"Nick? Nick? Relax. Relax. It'll make it easier to breath. I promise the ambulance is on its way," she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly and scooting closer to his side. In his panic he clamped his eyes shut again, snapped the visual bond between them. His breathing grew into a near wheeze within seconds and Sara could feel their connection slipping away.
"Open your eyes Nick. Please open your eyes. Look at me Nick," she pleaded quietly. But his eyes remained closed and his distress intensified. Sara bit down on his lip, half angry at her uselessness and half heartbroken at what Nick was going through. When his eyes were opened she had connected with him, on some deep powerful level. The darkness of those brown eyes had brightened and she had been able to offer him something unidentifiable but desperately needed.
The anger that had rushed in on her at his distress, dissolved just as quickly when she realized that the room was suddenly silent again. It pulled her back from the momentary haze she had been lost in. Looking down at his closed eyes and relaxed features she found that Nick had stopped breathing.
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Jim Brass watched Gil Grissom from his seat in the far corner of the ER waiting room. There was a frantic concern about the way Grissom tapped his fingertips on the arm of the chair he had finally sat down in. Gil was normally a man of steady tempo, but not in this moment. That predictable pace, full of logic and level headedness, was visibly waning. The rest of his body was stationary and Jim wondered if Gil even realized he was bouncing his fingertips off the wood of the chair's arm at such a chaotic rate.
They had arrived at the hospital only to discover that the ambulance en route to Nick hadn't even arrived there yet. There had been a large fire at a hotel downtown and it had tied up a lot of EMS at that location. So the bus had to travel all the way out to the far reaches of the city to the Marshall house. And even with sirens clearing the way and the medics having been informed the patient was LVPD it would still take time to cover the distance.
Perhaps they should have pushed for a MedEvac transport, Jim thought briefly. Then shook his head at himself recalling that they hadn't because of the shear number and severity of the injured at the fire. Sara had said Nick had a steady, albeit sluggish, pulse and was breathing on his own. And as hard as it had been they had resisted the urge to demand the chopper lift. Nick had a steady pulse and had been breathing. Those words had nearly become a mantra inside in his mind. That provided some microscopic shred of comfort. Although that situation could change in the blink of an eye. Jim knew that and so did Grissom. Maybe it accounted for Gil's uncharacteristic nervous energy. Sometimes knowledge was more of a curse than a blessing. The intense expression on Gil's face Jim had witnessed before though. The last time being that day they had been racing a rapidly progressing stop clock to find Nick and pull him out of hell. Brass made a mental note to buy Nicky a lucky charm. The boy sure could use one. He'd seen more than his fair share of trials and those were just the ones Jim knew about personally, but after years on the force he had gained the acute ability to read people, in their body language and especially in their eyes. It came in handy in catching people in lies. But also it revealed that sometimes there was more to the story of someone's life, how they became who they were. Nick's eyes gave him away, at least to Jim. There had definitely been more lumps that Nick had weathered. Whatever they were he had overcome them with a lot of grace. He would have to have had to be the person Brass knew.
"Coffee?" Jim asked when his thoughts started down a road he didn't wish to go down. Nick was tougher than some gave him credit for. The question Jim had asked went unanswered so he tried again.
"Gil?" he said more loudly and lethargically pushed himself into a standing position. Grissom turned his head and looked up at him, but there was a beat of delay before Gil responded.
"I'm sorry Jim. Did you say something?"
"I asked if you wanted some coffee. My treat."
"Yes. That would be helpful about now."
"I know what you mean," Brass replied and made his way along the hallway. He would eventually make his way towards the cafeteria and purchase the strongest coffee he could get. But first diverted his course out through the emergency room's sliding door and into the ambulance bay. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air he felt a little more focused and pulled his cell from his jacket pocket.
"Willows," the distracted female voice answered on the third ring.
"Catherine, it's Brass."
"What's up Jim?"
"Well, unfortunately, you aren't going to like the answer to that question."
"Oh why's that?"
"I'm down at the ER with Gil. Nick's been hurt."
"Hurt? How bad?"
"I don't know the details yet. We're waiting for the ambulance to get back here. Grissom spoke with Sara and she said that Nick was breathing on his own, but unconscious. Apparently he took a fall of some kind out at that crime scene."
"Alright Warrick and I are on our way."
"Okay. See you in a few."
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Grissom glanced down at his hand and realized he'd been tapping his fingertips on the arm of the chair he was seated in. He stared at them, frozen in the last position they had landed in before he noticed them. It wasn't something he found himself doing very often, but the fact that each time he had he'd been so lost inside his own head that he hadn't known he was doing it was what truly bugged him. So he stood up, eliminating the possibility it would happen again. Simple as that to remove the physical manifestation of his collection of thoughts, but not enough to stop the thoughts themselves.
Nick shouldn't have been alone at that crime scene. First, Nicky should have gone home like Grissom instructed him to do. Secondly, and more importantly, where along the line did the new stricter safety procedures slip out of their grasp. They had been implemented mere months before. And it hadn't been just today that Nick had been out there alone. Grissom had been fully aware he'd been solo out there the day before. Then tonight Sara had told him he was going out to the scene on her own, before they knew Nick had logged out a vehicle and gone out there. And he hadn't stopped either of them or assigned some back up to go along with them.
He had wanted his team back. And he had gotten every member of it. But where had the teamwork gone? What crucial piece had he forgotten to add to the mixture? What missing thread would have saved Nick from having to overcome yet another hurdle?
Gil blew out a heavy breath and slowly lowered himself back down into the chair.
"I'm sorry I let you down Nicky," he whispered when the thought that he had chased away earlier crept back into his mind. Sara had informed him that Nick had a pulse and was breathing on his own. But Gil knew that anything could change in a heartbeat. And if the heart of the team disappeared could they survive it?
To Be Continued…