Author: Signs Of Sun
Series Title: Touched By Gravity
Genres: 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.
Notes:
My sincerest apologies on the delay in posting this. A while back I had a bit of an accident. Let's just say that if I had to provide a doctor's note I could easily produce one stating why I couldn't use the computer. Then following recovery from that I moved so the computer was packed away for a while. When I finally unearthed it I had a problem with first my phone line then when the voice part of the line was fixed I had a problem with my DSL and it wasn't working. Then LOL!when everything on my end was finally in working order and I went to post the chapter kept erroring out every time I tried to post it for the last couple days. I tell ya if it's not one thing it's the other. Sorry about that. I should be settled in now though. Once again my apologies. Perhaps the following part of this note will make up for it a little.
So I have pretty much wrapped up writing the remaining chapters of Touched By Gravity. No fear a ways to go yet! Plenty of chapters still to be posted. But in terms of actual writing I'm just about done with everything but small additions, edits, and polishing. But I'm considering beginning to develop a second story. A Nick and Grissom fic. Not slash though. It's an adventure story incorporating psychological suspense amongst other wonderful things. If this is something you guys would be interesting in reading let me know and I'll start working on it.
Summary: Nicks investigation of a case is abruptly interrupted. It may take a little teamwork to solve the case with him out of the picture. 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 VII
Sara squatted down and began scooping up the last of the papers from the hospital room floor. Some of the pages had captured her attention longer than others. Nick had made bold markings in black pen next to some of the details. Possibly things he had intended to dig further into or things that had stood out to him, or even that he had deciphered some pattern amongst the highlighted items that she could not see quite yet. Despite all the procedures to be adhered to every CSI inevitably added a trace of their own individual style to the method. Nick, amongst other things, storyboarded things. Where Grissom took one miniature element and built on it outward, Nick saw the story, the bigger picture, and weeded out the key scenes or elements inward to the essential elements. Nick didn't see things in black and white. Instead could visualize the whole color photograph and break it down into the individual hues. Sara smiled as the realization hit her. After all the years she finally saw with greater acuity why Nick and Warrick understood one another so well. Their styles were more similar. Sara's tended to parallel Grissom's inside outward fashion more closely. Catherine ran the middle ground. But Nick and Warrick saw the spectrum first, studying for the primary colors as they went deeper.
The last paper finally back inside the folder she stood up and flipped through it, ensuring that everything was right side up and in order. When she came to the page that seemed to haunt her she stopped. The pale pink stain awakened a less scientific side of her. A part of her for some nonsensical reason clung to the sensation of being mentally intertwined with Nick.
Shaking away the warm grasp of the thoughts Sara closed the folder finally. She belonged in a colder more methodical place like the lab, solving the case that had delivered her friend where he was now, hanging in the balance.
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"I have another excellent question, where the hell is Amlyn Marshall?" Catherine asked.
"As of right this moment Amlyn Marshall is missing," Brass announced from the doorway of the small waiting room.
"I also have some other news," he added, moving further into the room so he stood at the head of the U-shaped grouping of chairs.
"About Amlyn Marshall or the DB?" Grissom asked. Brass shifted a little, to turn to the left to look the other man directly in the eye.
"Neither. I found out why we couldn't reach Nick's parents."
Warrick pushed his resistant body up straighter in the chair. Brass had his full attention now.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone forcefully hard with dislike for Brass' ominous way of announcing this development. Warrick had met both Stokes' the preceding May when they had flown out during Nick's kidnapping. He had instantly respected them and seen firsthand where many of the traits he admired in Nick had come from. Warrick hated to think of what Nick would go through if something happened to them.
"We've been trying repeatedly to get a hold of Nick's parents at home all night. But all we ever got was their voicemail. Once their offices were opened I tried Judge Stokes' office. I spoke with his administrative assistant."
"So you didn't actually speak to Judge Stokes then?" Warrick inquired. There was a layer of disappointment inside the inflection.
"No. Judge Stokes and Mrs. Stokes were traveling in South America. I wasn't informed of what country. They were representing an organization they helped develop. There was an earthquake yesterday. It took out phone lines and power in a large area surrounding where they were staying. The Stokes' were able to relay a message through emergency personnel to their offices saying they are okay, but stuck where they are for the time being."
"So they don't know about Nick?" Catherine faintly jumped in with.
"No."
"Maybe it's better that way," Grissom offered.
"It's their son Gil."
"I know that Catherine. I'm not disagreeing with you. Think about it. Would you want to be trapped somewhere and find out Lindsey had been injured and not be able to go to her?"
"Of course not."
"Well, there you go," Grissom replied with a firm look.
"So I guess that means for the moment we're all Nick's got," Catherine announced to the entire group.
"Looks that way, doesn't it?" Brass sighed out. A heavy breathless silence gripped the entire room for the span of several seconds. Suddenly the weight of Nick's situation sunk in deeper, cutting into each of their hearts and minds. If there were decisions to made, life and death decisions even, Nick's parents would not be present to make them. There were other relatives to still be contacted but in that moment Nick was partly in their hands. And somehow they would have to do right by him this time around.
Grissom's voice snapped the thread that seemed to be straggling each of them silently, individually. His own mind compensating by changing the subject of thought.
"Brass what's the update on Amlyn Marshall?"
"A BOLO has been put out on her. She was supposed to be staying with the neighbors, Terri and Daniel Sheldon and their sixteen year old daughter Marisa, but she never came home a week ago last Friday. They found a note on the dining room table when they arrived home from work that day. The letter was from Amlyn supposedly and informed them Amlyn had been in touch with her mother and was flying out to see her. This was not out of the ordinary according to the Sheldons. Mrs. Marshall would buy the plane ticket and Amlyn would fly to meet up with her at whatever art show or workshop she was at. It was that or really never see each other much. So it didn't raise any red flags for them. I checked with Mrs. Marshall and she stated that Amlyn did send her an email about coming to visit."
"Did the Sheldons recognize the handwriting on the note as Amlyn's?" Grissom inquired, eagerness in his voice. The new information appeared to have refreshed his reserves of energy significantly.
"They were fairly confident it was. They weren't sure if they still had the letter so I strongly encouraged them to look for it."
"Alright, I'll take the lead on our DB and work that with Brass. Catherine, head up finding Amlyn Marshall."
"If you get Brass I get Greg at the least," Catherine insisted and stood in preparation to head out.
"Yes, you can have Greg, but we'll have to share Warrick and Sara."
"You're not very good at sharing Gil."
"So I've been told. But practice makes perfect, right?"
"I'll believe it when I see it," she replied with a knowing expression.
"So what's the plan?" Brass asked as Grissom stood too, looking as if he was preparing headed out of the room. The others listened along with Brass as Grissom rattled of the details.
"First off, we need an id on the decedent. No luck on fingerprints so let's check missing persons. Maybe someone out there is looking for her. Also we'll need to check the evidence collected as well as go back to the Marshall house for additional evidence that may identify our DB. DNA, personal items, phone records. Anything that tells us who she is. And then we figure out why she was killed her."
"Nick already requested the phone records. So that's one step forward on that," Jim informed him.
"Great we'll check those out and see if there was anything else in the evidence he collected that might give us a lead. Nick knew something was up. He was getting there I think, very close to pinpointing something pivotal. He simply ran out of time."
Grissom stopped speaking when his attention was drawn towards the doorway and the woman that had appeared there. The others turned their focus to her just as she introduced herself.
"Hi everybody. I'm Barbara, one of the O.R. nurses. I just came out to touch base with you. Things are proceeding well. Mr. Stokes is certainly holding his own and there haven't been any complications."
"How much longer?" Warrick immediately jumped in asking.
"We're about three quarters of the way there. Once the procedure is complete he'll be in recovery for a bit then moved back to the neuro ICU."
"That's good that your three quarters there and there's no complications yet?"
"Yes. Things are going as planned and we're optimistic."
"You'll keep us updated?"
"Absolutely. Mr. Stokes seems to have quite a cheering section."
"Yeah we're definitely loud, opinionated, and travel in a pack," Catherine reacted with.
"I'm sure Mr. Stokes feels the support."
"We hope so," Grissom responded gently. The statement seemed to come more out of wishfulness than confidence. The tone was one that was almost odd coming from him, but at the same time he had stated aloud the sentiment that the remainder of the group had only thought, not spoken. The only one that didn't find it unusual was the nurse who nodded her head and offered him a light smile before heading back to the operating room and Nick.
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The sun baked Tahoe had been sitting in the parking lot outside of the Las Vegas Crime Lab's garage for hours. When Brass had driven Sara out to the Marshall house she had driven Nick's SUV back to the lab, having picked up the spare copy of the keys on the way out to the scene. The sun had reached a higher perch in the sky and had won out over any shade the early morning had gifted the city with. Sara fished her sunglasses out of her purse and slipped them on. Her ultimate destination was her own car to drive back to the hospital, but the Tahoe held an irresistible curiosity in her thoughts so she had diverted from her original course out the front of the building through the garage, picking upthe copy of the SUV's key along the way.
She unlocked the driver's side door and was immediately assaulted by the sun's thorough work of practically boiling the air inside the Tahoe. After she recovered for the breath stealing blast she climbed inside, leaving the door open to vent the interior some. She glanced around the front portion of the vehicle, checking between, underneath, and in front of both seats. She even looked in the glove compartment, but was empty handed in the end. It wasn't surprising though. It wasn't often the CSIs stored stuff up front. So she hopped back out, hitting the button on the door to unlock the remaining doors of the Tahoe. Sara pulled open the back door on the driver's side and leaned in. Scanning the entire back again found nothing. She blew out a breath as disappointment found its way into her heart. Trying to force away the feeling Sara slammed the door shut and moved to the back end of SUV and opened it up. Her gaze scanned every last inch of the vehicle and the disappointment settled further in. She turned away from the interior and leaned on the open back end of the truck.
After a long moment of thought she shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. It was the second time she had given into the absurd attachment to that dream she had had. Almost as soon as she arrived back at the lab from the hospital she had checked inside Nick's field kit for a plastic bag containing a pair of gloves stained a pale shade of pink. And now she had fallen again, searching the Tahoe Nick had been driving for those same gloves.
Sara straightened up, spun around, and roughly closed up the back end. She loathed the disappointment gnawing at her. It, in fact, had been a dream. Some little silly childish piece of her had theorized that if she found the gloves what she saw would become substantiated. When in reality it wouldn't have proved anything. And it really was silly. Catherine's words finally rang as honesty and not lack of understanding as they echoed inside her mind.
"He's in a coma Sara. His brain is swelling. He can't even breath on his own. It kills me to say it, but he's not there. He's can't be communicating with you or whatever you think it is that happened."
And she had been right. It was the flaw of intense emotional attachment leading her away from the right path to be following. What she had experienced was a creation of her own mind filling in the blanks and nothing more.
There was nothing of value to be gained by investing herself or her time in a dream world. She needed to follow the evidence of Nick's condition and the case he been solo on.
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Brass pulled the key from the ignition and climbed out of the SUV. Most of the time he spent his days in a car and most often as the passenger so he had jumped up at the chance to drive the truck. Grissom, although a bit rejuvenated by the developments in their case, was still operating on less than enough sleep and offered the keys to Jim with the plan of resting his eyes for a few moments on the way out to the crime scene. And rest his eyes he had the entire way until Brass turned off the pavement into the dirt driveway which caused a big dip in the road under the SUV. Gil's eyes had popped open with the sudden bounce the drop caused..
Jim waited at the front of the truck while Grissom collected a few items from the back end. After a moment he arrived at the front again with a field kit, a flashlight, and a camera in hand.
"Didn't Nick already do most of that already? I know he at least did the photos," Brass inquired and started to walk towards the front steps of the Marshall house. He'd only gone a few feet when he sensed that Gil wasn't tailing him.
"Gil?" he asked, stopping and turning around in search of the other man.
"The camera isn't for that scene," Grissom replied and headed off towards the side of the house.
"Uh okay," Brass commented, mostly to himself since the CSI had already disappeared around the corner of the house. But where Gil Grissom traveled others followed so the detective set out after him. Grissom was the first to speak once they met back up towards the back of the house. The CSI had stopped and had the camera now positioned to take a picture of the exterior of a building, one smaller than the house that was set back in the yard. Once he completed the task at hand he glanced over at Jim off to his left.
"Camera's for this scene," he commented and started off again across the lawn towards the building. Brass trailed him, his pace slightly slower than his companion's. The discovery of their destination struck Brass somehow with the rising of a lump in his throat. They were headed for the scene of Nick's fall. On the job Brass saw scenes so much worse all the time, but this was hard for some reason. Not just because he knew the victim either. There was a sharp difference between hearing about something and seeing it for yourself.
Jim supposed that it was easier to have hope when you don't see it for yourself. You can buffer things you don't witness a bit with the possibility that it's not as bad as what others told you or with the excuse that you don't have all the details.
But at the same time Brass was drawn in the same way Grissom was to go inside that building. There was little chance they would have come and gone from the place without being pulled to go to that scene. Maybe somewhere deep inside it would connect them to Nick and what he was going through or maybe even the slightest of possibilities of renewed hope if it wasn't as bad as they imagined it to be.
Brass grabbed onto that last thought and picked up his pace in the wake of Gil Grissom's footsteps before him.
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"Hey!" Sara said gently as she entered the small private waiting room. It now only held a sole occupant, Warrick. Sara offered him a friendly light smile. It was just a cover though, an excuse to study him for a fraction of a second longer. Weather-beaten. The description instantly popped into Sara's mind.
"Hey Sara," he responded. His tone was a mixture of warmth and will. Sara could sense he was glad to see her, anybody probably, so he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts anymore. But at the same time it was obvious that his will was all that was holding him up both mentally and physically.
"Rough day huh?"
"Is it day? I think I've lost track," he replied.
"It's day," Sara assured him since the little waiting room had no windows to the outdoors. The lone window adjacent to the doorway looked out into the hallway which lead into the surgical wing of the hospital.
"Whatcha have there?"
"Marshall case. Any news on Nick?"
"Still in surgery. One of the nurses came out and told us that it's going well, there haven't been any complications. They're about three quarters of the way through the procedure. Nicky's holdin' his own."
"Never doubted it for a second."
"Right there with ya."
"Grissom take off?"
"You know Grissom. When there's cases to be solved…well…there's cases to be solved and time doesn't stop for us to be anything but scientists."
"Where did everyone else disappear to?"
"Oh that's right you missed the updates?"
"Oh really? Anything interesting?"
"Well, first there's Nick's parents. Brass found out that Judge Stokes and Mrs. Stokes were traveling in South America. There was an earthquake that knocked out phone lines, power actually in the whole region. They're okay, but stuck there for now. They relayed a message through rescue workers to their offices that they were okay."
"Well, that's good news. They know?"
"No. They don't know about Nick. So you been back at the lab?"
"Yeah. I wanted to check on a few things. I made a copy of the Amlyn Marshall case file too. Left a copy for Grissom."
"Yeah about that. That was the other development. The Amlyn Marshall case isn't really the Amlyn Marshall case."
"Whoa whoa! You've totally lost me."
"The DB in the Marshall house was not Amlyn. Fingerprints didn't match. And the mother showed up to id Amlyn and said it wasn't her daughter."
"So the fingerprints didn't match Amlyn's, was a match found?"
"Nope. Grissom is working on that. Catherine is heading up finding Amlyn. A BOLO has been put out. Cath is having Greg check the missing persons databases. Grissom went with Brass back out to the crime scene and to talk with the neighbors where Amlyn was staying before she disappeared."
"I was in that house. There were photos of the decedent all over the place. At least on the surface I didn't see a photo of another female teenager. Do we have a photo of Amlyn Marshall?"
"Brass does. He gave Catherine all that information. Have you gone through the file yet?"
"A little. You might say I got interrupted before I got too deep."
"Want some help?" Warrick offered in a tired whisper.
"Sure. They say two heads are better than one, right?"
"Well, this head is seriously sleep deprived. I can chip in at least half of one though."
"I'll take it," Sara replied. There was a beat of silence while she opened the file on the coffee table in front of them. She took a handful of the papers in the folder and turned to Warrick.
"A half a brain's worth," she stated with a grin and held out the stack to him. He took it and shifted on the couch so he could place the stack next to him.
"You know what?" Sara commented.
"What's that?"
"In Nick's notes he made marks next to some of the lines. There was something…something about photos of another teenaged girl."
"For real?"
"Warrick I think Nick was piecing something together just before his accident. I've started going over everything and he clearly knew something was off."
"Actually you're right, he did. David was here with Doc and said that Nick had come by before heading out to the Marshall house. He wanted to push to have a rush on having prints lifted from the DB to verify the id. David said he got the impression that Nick wouldn't have been surprised if they didn't match."
"I wonder what exactly tipped him off?" Sara responded and flipped open the file folder. She could sense Warrick beside her turn his attention to his own stack. As a comfortable quiet settled into the room Sara focused intensely on reading Nick's notes, searching to follow the path Nick had traveled along to suspect the young woman at the bottom of those stairs wasn't Amlyn. From the first set of notes she went over the list for Nick's initial pass through the house that detailed items he had logged.
The image of Nick crouched under a desk in the Marshall house flashed back to Sara's mind. In her dream he had ducked under the desk to grab a piece of crumbled up paper in floor in the corner of the room. After retrieving it he had stood up and unfolded it. Suddenly the vivid image of Nick's expression when he had studied the paper that seemed to contain, at the least, a color photo
There was a flash of something, something hopeful, in his eyes as he delicately unfolded and examined it.
"Well isn't that interesting. She…" he stated, but Sara never heard the rest because the sensation of a hand of her shoulder, shaking her, stole her away from his voice.
Sara sifted through her half of the folder, but the evidence list was not there.
"Do you have the evidence list?" she asked Warrick.
"Yeah. Right here," he responded and handed it over. Silently Sara visually skimmed down over the items.
"What are you looking for?"
"Got it!' Sara responded not a beat of dead air later.
"Enlighten me please," Warrick threw back slight frustrated. Sara handed the page back to him and indicated with her fingertips the item near the end of the list. While Warrick read it Sara turned back to her stack of papers and searched through to find Nick's note on the evidence list. As she read them she gave Warrick the highlights.
"Nick found something with a photograph on it. A photograph that had the decedent and another female teenager in it. The caption identified the girl on the left as Amlyn Marshall, but the girl on the left was not the decedent. The girl standing beside her was."
"So Amlyn and the vic knew each other."
"I suppose that if she knew Amlyn that helps explain the vic being found in the Marshall house. What I don't get is why nobody noticed Amlyn was missing?"
"Brass stated that while Amlyn's parents were out of town she was staying at the neighbors. Apparently that wasn't uncommon since just about every time her mother was out of town at an art show or workshop that was where she stayed. The neighbors she was staying with found a note from her about week ago saying that she was flying out to meet up with her mother. That was routine as well I guess."
"I wonder what the source of the photograph was. Was it a newspaper clipping or personal photo or what?" Sara pondered as she started rapidly digging through the remaining contents of both her and Warrick's piles of papers.
"It should be there. Nick should have noted it when he logged it."
"Right. But it's not."
"Look again I'm sure he would have noted it."
"Warrick, there's missing pages here. Some of these pages don't seem to have continuations on the next page."
"We'll have to get the photo out of evidence then," Warrick commented studying the evidence list he still held in his hand. Sara didn't reply so he glanced over to find her dialing her call.
"Hey Jim. It's Sara. I've got something you might want to check out," she said into the phone a few seconds later. Warrick placed the page in his hand back into the collection on the table in front of him and sluggishly stood up. He needed to stretch and maybe wander for a bit. Now that Sara was there in the waiting room in case anyone came with word on Nick he could step out of the room for a few precise but brief moments. He peered out the window of the waiting room down along the hallway. Remembering that just around the corner at the end of the corridor there was a soda machine he was suddenly acutely aware how thirsty he was. Looking back over his shoulder at the seat he just departed his exhaustion argued that perhaps a nap would be even better, but he fought off the idea. This was the first real chance he'd had to leave that cramped room in hours and if he was smart he'd take advantage of it.
"Sara, I'll be back in a few. Just going for a walk around." To this Sara nodded her head as she listened to him and Brass on the other end of her phone at the same time. At a pace something akin to a crawl Warrick trudged his weary body down the hallway, around the corner, and planted himself in front of the Pepsi machine that looked better than any Pepsi machine he'd ever seen. Only seconds later he had two sodas in hand. His own he gulped half of down with scarcely a breath. The other he would hang on to and offer to Sara. He appreciated her company. The span of time spent alone had been harder than he had anticipated or cared to let on about. Physically the walk was healing and mentally Sara's presence was almost mentally relaxing.
Finishing off his drink he tossed away the can in the trash and glanced at his watch.
"You're kidding me?" he whispered to himself. More time had passed than he thought. Had he fallen asleep in that chair? The question instantly departed his mind when he realized what it meant. When the O.R. nurse had come out while the others were still in the waiting room she had stated that Nick's surgery was three quarters the way through. If that was the case they should have finished up a long time ago. Yet no one had come to let them know.
Spotting the surgical wing's nurses station down the hallway he made his way there and with some difficulty gained the attention of one of its attendants.
"Can I help you? We spoke earlier I think. Mr. Brown, right?"
"Yeah. I was wondering if there was any update on Nick Stokes?"
"I'm sorry I haven't heard anything new but let me check for you," the gray haired nurse offered. She instantly was on the phone, in search of a status on the patient. Her end of the conversation was mostly filled with "okay" and "I will" so Warrick couldn't gather much verbally, but he did note the slightest of changes in her expression about hallway through. By the time she hung up Warrick was on guard just a little.
"So?" he asked, anxiousness undisguised.
"Mr. Stokes' procedure is taking a little longer than anticipated."
"Is there some sort of problem? A complication?"
"Someone from the O.R. is coming out to speak with you."
"So there is something then?"
"That's all they told me. I'm sure they are just coming out to check in, give you a routine progress report."
"A progress report? He's been in there way longer than he was supposed to be. If everything was going fine wouldn't they be done by now!" Warrick snapped out.
"I'm sorry Mr. Brown. I wish I had more information. I'm sure they will answer any questions you might have."
"They damn well better!" Warrick commented, storming off down the hallway in the direction of the waiting room. By the time he entered through the doorway back to the waiting area his heart was slamming against the interior of his chest. He wished it was only his anger at them not keeping Nick's friends updated that coursed through his veins, but he knew it wasn't.
Fear, fear for Nick's life, poured to every inch of his body and pounded agonizingly deep in his chest. His heart crumbled with the realization that Nicky was very likely falling to even a deeper darker place and there wouldn't be anything he could do to stop it.
To Be Continued…