Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
Author's Note: See, I would never end this on any of you! Just teasing, promise! Thanks for all the helpful words. Y'all have no idea how much hearing from the readers helps me through this. Much, much appreciated! And that takes us to Chapter 4/5...my transition chapter as it seems in all my multi-chaptered stories. Let's see if we can break the record the other two hold! ;p So, off with you. Let's get all our players together to continue with the game, shall we. See ya all again soon!
#4: Another love grows cold…
The music wafting over the steel tables was the churning of the vibrating saw as it ate away at the skull bone in its path. There were tiny, miniscule fragments of aerosols breaking up, dancing under the florescent lights. The flat blue cloth kept the dangerous dust away from healthy, pink lungs. Pale skin vibrated and jiggled from its dead state. The body remained cold and that strange blue of deadly freeze.
Doc Albert Robbins pulled back and stood straight once the top of the head peeled itself almost completely away from its normal protecting spot over the precious brain matter, skin frayed around the cut. The blade spun slowly to a complete stop, red from the blood that still remained in the figure. He moved over to his rolling table and laid it over the blue cloth. The coroner took his time to remove the blade and place it in the waiting plastic bag so it could be documented for the case with the rest of the evidence.
Now, with precision, Doc Robbins picked up his skull chisel and gently wedged it between the lose bone and the remaining face. There was a squishing and squelching noise as the bone completely was removed from the meninges and the gray brain. The older man smiled behind his face mask as he removed the cut bone and placed it in a stainless steel bowl for later examination.
Using the x-raying machine stationed over the examining table, he could see where the bullet had lodged itself in the young girl's skull. It just wasn't a very easy place to get to from any ordinary methods. Robbins planned to work downward from the top of the brain towards where it was hiding behind the nasal passages. The shot had been downward, but the bullet angles even more when it entered the brain matter. Besides, the brain would have to come out at some point.
Turning back to his supplies table, the coroner gathered up his scalpel in his left hand, the forceps in his right hand. It is quick, but messy work. The bullet fragment was small as always. No matter how many of these he removed from bodies, Robbins could never get used to the fact that something so small could end so many lives.
As the bullet clinked in its own personal dish, the room doors swung open, emitting a frowning Gil Grissom, "Almost done?"
"Just got the bullet out. Wasn't easy. Had to remove the top of the skull to be able to work at it, the coroner moved slowly, speaking clearly as he always did.
"I'll make sure it gets up to Bobby."
"Have you heard from Nick or Warrick? The weather was getting rough out there."
Grissom rubbed his hands together as he thought out his answer, "I'm sure Jim has them staying at station in Boulder City. Would be pointless to endanger the case by driving back in this."
"I would be more worried about them then the evidence," Robbins moved to his papers, turning his back to the CSI, "But that's just me."
The girl's body didn't bother to make her comments known to the other occupants of the room. She remained as still and silent as always. Her hand was still wrapped tightly around the wooden chunk of clarinet. It was deemed unimportant in the hunt for the bullet. But it wouldn't be allowed into the coffin of choice made by her parents.
"But David was correct in all his work at the main crime scene. The gun wound is the only damage found on the body, cause of death. It immediately shut the body down; the heart was flooded with blood as it was rapidly shut down. I took photos of my progress, complete records for the file."
"No other marks on her?"
"Well, there is the bruising to her forehead which must have hit first on her final fall to the floor. I still have to extract the instrument piece from her hand, sure there are nail marks there. But no one touched her. Only the bullet."
Grissom nodded and raised his eyes to the other man's, "Let me know when you're completely finished. I'll come collect things for the box. Now, I have to go find Catherine."
Doc Robbins said nothing more as he watched the CSI leave the room, the door swinging on its hinges behind him. He turned his attention to the pretty girl whose life had been ended much too shortly. This was always tragic. Always a useless crime.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
He would never admit it, but he was completely worried about his missing team mates. The implication by the coroner was insulting. After the trials they had been put through over the years, he would never put a case in front of one of his own. He closed that personal case file last summer with the bloody pieces of flesh that had blown all over his person by a deluded father.
Grissom created his own storm as he walked the hallways of the lab. He needed to get the bullet to Bobby so that there would be something to match the gun the others would find at the school. Then, once they used the integration material the Brass would gather, they would have their case and put the bad guy away.
But for some reason, this thought didn't sit well in the entomologist's stomach.
A flash of blonde hair caught his attention from his thoughts. His feet gathered more speed and he quickly closed the distance between him and Catherine. The other CSI had her face turned downward, completely engrossed in some files she was carrying.
"Catherine."
The deep voice was enough to cause the woman to stop in place and look backwards, "What is it Gil? I have to get this finished so I can get out of here. Have to get to the Tangiers with Sam."
"I'll make it quick. Have you heard from Nick or Warrick? Greg? They were heading out to Boulder City for that 419 shooting. David made it back just fine, but that was awhile ago."
"No, but from what I caught on the weather channel, the storm is crazy towards the east. I'm sure they just got held up at the police station there. Phones probably messed up with the lightening. Hell, there was even talk about a tornado."
"I'll believe it if I see it. But they still should have tried to call."
Catherine smirked as she lowered the sheets of paper and looked at her friend, "I'm sure you'll tell them that as well. After all, you sound like their dad."
It was all Grissom could do, he harrumphed at the comment. Sure, he had gotten more emotional over the past couple of months, but he would never consider himself a father figure. He had hardly even known his own. There was no experience for him in this matter. It made his fidget and wish there was something else to think about.
"…the girl?" Catherine's voice floated at him, but he had missed most of it.
"What?"
The woman sighed and placed a hand on her hip, body tilting to the side a little, "I asked if you went and saw the girl? The one David brought in."
"Oh, yeah. Just coming from there. On my way to drop the bullet off with Bobby so he can get to work on identifying it."
"Don't let me stop you then. Remember, I have my own case to work on. And you have paperwork building up on your desk. You should try to take a look at that."
Grissom couldn't say another word as the woman walked off and left him in the middle of the hallway, mouth somewhat open. He never knew what to do when Catherine blew him off like that. If he had a wife, that would have happened most likely like that.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Andrew rested his head back against the wall behind him, eyes closed. His watch had told him numerous minutes had passed. His ears told him the bad part of the storm had moved past. The sound of rain hitting the roof was still clear. Along with the occasional rumble of a thunder clap.
But the beat of his heart was the bass for this new song, this new room. Gasping breaths, choked cries, and shuffling feet as added dimension. It was the ringing in his ears that caught his attention the most. This was something new to his brain.
Ungluing his eyes, he moved his head a little towards the side to take in his fellow crime fighters. Brass had a blank look to his eyes underneath his frown. The older man was determined to show that this didn't affect him, but Andrew knew better. Not having control over this was slowly driving him insane.
And for Greg, well, the kid was doing the best he could. His eyes were red and puffy from the slight crying session he had earlier. But it was the way he held his body together with his arms that showed how bad this was affecting him. Andrew could only hope that Nick and Warrick had pulled through this or Greg was going to seriously lose it.
With a huff of air, Andrew pulled himself to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, "I suppose we should go out there and take a look."
Greg twisted his head up to look Andrew in the eyes, "Think its safe?"
"As safe as its going to be. We need to check this out and figure out what we're going to do," Brass brought himself to standing as well, "Besides, I have two CSI's to yell at."
This was enough to cause Greg to smile. He nodded and stood next to Andrew. The three of them looked over at the kids. A couple were still tightly compacted together, but all the boys had spread out a little. It even looked as if Sam was taking a nap.
"What should we do with them?"
Brass said, "Leave them here. We'll cover more ground without them. When we know what's going on, we can get them."
Neither of the younger men argued, not that they had any time to do so. The detective had already starting pushing at the table barrier in order to get to the door. Andrew moved to help and it was quick work. With a quick glance, Brass opened to door to show the hallway outside.
Greg held his breath as he walked out behind the larger men. Bricks, stone, and strangely enough, an orange lawn chair. The hallway that had been demolished, looked just that. Walls had been crumpled under the weight of the ceiling. It was closed off in a pinch seal. They would have to look over it more later.
"Greg, take the band room. Find Nick and Warrick. Andy and I'll check the teachers over there."
The CSI nodded his head weakly and turned away from the other two so they wouldn't see the blood draining from his face. He really didn't want to find his two friends dead. Death didn't bother him until he knew the person. Then it was hell.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The door didn't want to open. Brass was getting really sick of it. Never before had he had so much trouble with doors. It took both men to force the slab of wood open so they could enter the room. But there wasn't much of a room to look into.
From what Brass remembered going on last in this space, the damage it now was showing was not what he expected. Like in the hallway, the ceiling was now touching the floor. An entire tree was resting up against the chalk board to their left. But it was the lack of human movement that made the two cops look at each other before taking anymore steps.
Andrew moved quickly over the fallen chair and doll head towards the still woman body lying under pieces of table. Carefully he moved chunks of wood and stone. The woman was dead. No more blood flowed from her wounds. Breath was no longer her friend.
He sat back on his heels and rested his elbows on his knees, hands hanging downward. Brass was standing over two male bodies. The older detective squatted down to check pulses.
"I got a live one."
Rushing over, without falling once, Andrew dropped down to look on the band director. The school principal had a large piece of glass piercing his throat. His grayish face told his tale. But the director was breathing, and still bleeding.
"I don't see anyone else," Andrew whispered to his superior.
"No, they're under that," He nodded towards the wall and ceiling, "Have to wait until others come to get to them. Can't be helped."
Sure enough, when Andrew looked closer, a human hand stuck out between two rocks. The ring finger was missing. The thumb rested back against the wrist. But there was no movement in the nerves, tendons. That person was dead as well.
It hurt to think they could be leaving other living souls trapped under that, but Brass was right. There was little the two of them could do and if someone was found, they would need more help than they could offer. Time was still there for those people if they could get help immediately.
"I wish there was still a window in here. I'd love to see outside."
Andrew nodded as he reached for the director's legs, "Then we'd know what the hell was going on out there."
"We'll have to find a way out soon. Let's get him out of here."
The two heaved the injured man from the room. Brass knew this wouldn't help the kids' fragile minds out any, but there was no where else safe to take him. They needed a semi clean room to put this man in if they had any hopes of keeping him alive.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Nick rubbed at his forehead, deeply wrinkled with a frown. The pounding dwarves behind his eyes were working with jack hammers now. Must not have had much luck with the pick axes to get within each neuron his brain contained.
The bleeding from the aching cut seemed to have slowed enough to get Warrick from hovering over him like a mother hen. His partner was trying to get the crumbs of dirt and dust from his short dreaded hair. It was kind of humorous event, despite the circumstances.
"Not gonna get it out now, bro. Have to wait and get Tina to wash it out for ya."
Warrick scowled at the Texan, "Shut up, man. She won't have to wash it for me."
"Oh no, but like you'll mind it one bit."
This statement did get a small grin on the taller man's lips. Any excuse to have his wife's hands in his hair was an excellent excuse. That woman could make his smile on any day of the week. Warrick almost wished she was here in this hell with him. Though, having his brother by his side was the next best thing.
"Gotta admit, that will be a nice thing to look forward to. Too bad you can't say the same."
Nick seemed to crumble under the weight of that sentence. The lighter mood that had been building up was now deflating. Voices, full of anger and hurt, jumbled through his brain. His own couldn't find its way out.
Just give it a shot.
I don't want to! There is no need for this.
Just want to help you out, bro. What's the big deal?
If you can't figure it out on your own, then what's the point of telling you? I mean, come on. Why can't you just leave it alone.
Because I can't!
Why?
'Cause you're my brother!
The other CSI could feel the shift around him as he took in Nick's dying smile. He put that shame and hurt in his friend. This was his fault. But now wasn't the time to fix it.
"Come on. We should get moving. Greg might have…"
"Greg might have figured you two would be sitting in her talking away like a couple of teenage girls," a voice interrupted.
Both men looked at to see Greg leaning against the doorway, a large smile on his face. The younger man almost seemed to prance into the room, his happiness sort of contagious. Nick couldn't help, but feel his grin grow again.
"Hey Greggo. We were wondering what happened to you. Where's Jim?"
"Well, while the two of you made yourselves scarce, we hunkered down with the kids. The two cops are now looking for anyone else who made it through this. By the way, what the hell actually happened?"
Warrick walked over and clamped a hand on Greg's shoulder, "Man, I haven't the foggiest idea. Shit just hit the fan. And well, Nicky of course decided to hit the floor. Can't take him anywhere, now can we!"
"Nope. Have to get a shorter leash for him. Maybe then he'll stay out of trouble long enough that someone might actually be able to see it."
"Oh ha, ha," Nick smiled broader despite himself, "You guys should take that act on the road."
The three men laughed a little. But the collapsed, desolate room soon brought them back to reality. They looked at each other, nodding at what they knew they had to do.
"Come on guys. We should get out of here," Warrick rubbed his neck, "Come on. Get your Texas ass up and moving."
Nick groaned as Warrick helped him to his feet. The wound pulled, his head pounded, and his stomach revolted. 'Going to have an excellent night. Can't wait to see what else can possibly happen.'
TBC…