Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
#15: The thunder rolls…
There wasn't much light at all. It was only lit up with a few sources from a few flashlights. There really wasn't much to go on, but Grissom couldn't help be stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. From what he could see, all his guys were in this room.
A small shove to the small of his back moved him efficiently from the entry way. He saw blonde hair flying outward as Catherine rushed past him. There was a gasp and small cry from the female CSI. Grissom's hands suddenly went cold for some reason he would figure out later. For now, he brushed the feeling off and forced himself into action.
His foot connected with a round object on his trek. Focusing his beam downward, he saw another flashlight. Not one to waste opportunities, Grissom picked it up and used both now. It was little difference, but the fact that it made one at all was good enough for him.
He glanced from one person to another, trying to take it all in. First there were two teenage boys, both dead. Then a young girl, barely alive, holding on to her last breaths. As much as he knew he should be a professional and study these three closer, Grissom wanted to check on his people first.
Brass and Greg were kneeling on the floor, their backs to the supervising CSI. The detective seemed to be whole, though Grissom could make out a shallow cut on the side of gruff man's face, up near the part of the ear he could see. Nothing that looked to need immediate attention. That man was an ox and it would take a train to take him out.
His younger CSI didn't look very comfortable now that Grissom took a closer look. Greg's leg was out from his body in an odd angle. There was blood on his pant leg. A lot of blood on his pant leg. And what appeared to be more. But his back was straight, shoulders firm.
Satisfying himself with a quick look over of the two, he focused on his taller CSI. Warrick was leaning backward, red headed girl in his lap. But from how the man was holding her, she wasn't a person to be fragile with. Warrick's hands held tight to her even as her eyes fluttered as if fighting not to sleep. The man's face showed pure exhaustion and pain from something he had been through. With the girl in the way, Grissom couldn't be sure of what really was wrong with Warrick, but could see the man was still with them.
Grissom turned his attention to the hunched figure, the one receiving Catherine's hand of support. Nick's shoulders were shaking from silent sobs. The rest of his body was as tight as a bowstring. He wasn't leaning towards Catherine, or anyone for that matter. Well, anyone moving anyways. Grissom could only see a part of the Texan's face. It was shadowed, pale, sickly.
Each step he took echoed loudly around him. It suddenly seemed to be the only noise in the room and it made Grissom want to fidget. He stopped by Greg's side. Now he could see Andrew. His head shook slowly, not even realizing he was making the motion. The young cop was dead. He was lost to the world.
Words were lost to him.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()!#$$&()+
Warrick had looked up when Grissom and Catherine walked into the room. For some reason that he couldn't figure out, he wasn't surprised by this. There was no reason for them to be here, but there they were. It fit perfectly with this night. Oddness all wrapped up in nice packaging, that was for sure.
He held tight to Amber though he could feel she had lost all her fight. She was limp, chest moving ever so softly. But she wasn't sane and he wasn't about to let her up. The girl was still possible of anything while she still had a heart that beat. He didn't want to test it and see how much.
But it was a hard decision. Warrick could see Nick was suffering from the loss of Andrew, as well as all his own physical pain. The man's shoulders were trembling, face set in hard lines. His hair looked like it was black paint wisped over his forehead and eyes. Warrick wanted to go check on him.
"What happened?" Grissom asked, voice strong and clear in the chaos.
"We got trapped," Greg looked to be in a trance as his lips moved on autopilot, "They had guns. Killed each other. Tried to kill us."
Catherine shook her head, eyes watery, "Are you guys okay?"
A snort sounded from Brass, "What a million dollar question. We're going to need a couple ambulances here. Each of your CSI's are hurt. And Andrew…"
The name trailed off and a whimper sounded from Nick. His hand flew up to beat at his face, trying to compose himself in front of the others. But the pain of his injuries and the confusion on what they had gone through were too much. Nick's mind wasn't able to deal with everything at once.
"Its okay, Nicky."
Catherine's hand tightened as she leaned in to whisper in his ears. She wanted him to calm down and relax. His blood pressure was too high from all the stress. She could almost feel the rush of blood under her hand, through the cloth of his shirt, and the cells of his skin. Nick was going to pass out soon if he didn't stop.
His lips trembled right along with his shoulders, "No, not this time."
Each was silent for a moment. Warrick tightened his arms without realizing it. The girl barely shifted in the new grasp. Bloody drool was soaking his arm, but he didn't make to move anything.
Grissom reached for his phone and flipped it open. The looks he received at doing something so simple was almost scary, but he ignored the others. It was just a simple cell phone after all. They all had one. He flipped it open and dialed in a quick number.
From his spot, Greg leaned forward a little more and shifted his leg straight out. He listened to his supervisor call the local sheriff and explain what they needed. It helped to distract him from the numbness that had now taken his limb captive. Greg was nervous about what that meant since he had never been shot before.
And his friends were all in different stages of shock. He had been through it before, in an explosion, knew what it looked like. Nick was the worst into it. Greg shook his head slightly, thinking that it was probably from the fact the Texan was denying things that were plain as day. Sure, he didn't want to admit his friend was gone, but Greg at least was trying. It looked like Nick wasn't in for that game today.
He suddenly could feel new eyes on him. Greg lifted his head and took in the sharp gaze from Catherine. She was testing out something on him. "You okay, Greg?"
"Sure, just shot in the leg. Nothing more really. Got off pretty easy," he tried to brush off the attention so it could be focused where it belonged more.
But Catherine wouldn't have it, "Just stay still and relax. You are all going to be okay soon. We'll get you back to Vegas and set it all right again. Just relax Greg."
It was soothing and he was reminded of his own mother. A small grin twisted up his lips and he nodded his head, his hair bobbing with the action. He had learned since his accident in the lab that Catherine would have her way no matter what got in the way, even the injured party. Better to just let it happen and accept she was going to baby you a little bit.
Her eyes held Greg's for a second longer to reassure herself that the youngest of her boys wasn't about to go anywhere. Catherine hesitated only slightly before moving to make eye contact with Warrick. It wasn't as carefree and casual as it used to be. Now she had to hold back a little and not let anything get through that she didn't want. He was a married man and didn't need as much from her anymore. But it still hurt, in more ways than one. But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that.
"Warrick? You?"
He grumbled, shaking his head, "Nah, just worry about Nicky. He needs ya more than me right now. I got it."
"Alright, but when that ambulance gets here, no fighting them. Just shut up and listen to what they say."
Warrick knew that tone and knew better than to try to fight it. A glance at Grissom offered no help and it was clear his supervisor meant the same thing. He tried to straighten his back a little, the muscles spasm from being stuck in the same position for way too long. There were footsteps getting closer to him.
"Here, let me help," Brass was holding out his hands to take the girl away from him, "Just lay her on the floor. She's not going anywhere anytime soon. But we don't want her dying on us. Have to get some more information out of her."
"Alright, just give me a hand."
The two of them lay Amber on the cool tile, tilting her head to the side so she would have less risk on drowning in her own saliva. A small bloody lake quickly formed beneath her heaving chest. This new position had opened up her lungs more and her body was taking full advantage. But her eyes were closed, soft against her pale flesh.
Anywhere else, Warrick might comment on what a nice looking kid she was. Looked to be innocent and sweet. One of those types to help older women across the street, hold a little boy's hand on the slide. But he was given enough data on her to figure she had never been like that. Always hiding behind that sweetness, waiting for the right moment. She was a pure predator.
Grissom kneeled by the two as the looked down on the one who had started this all into motion, "Anyone going to tell me what happened now?"
"Geez Gil, just give us a break. Hasn't been an easy night after all. Next time, you can take on a squad of crazy teenagers and tornados. Then I'll ask the annoying questions. Sound good to you?"
It was sarcastic enough to evoke a chuckle from Warrick, "We'll put it all in the report for ya. Even sign it all official like if you want."
"Not amusing," Grissom's lips barely moved, along with the rest of his contours.
Warrick sobered up quickly, stomach dropping into his shoes, "No, it's not. Not at all…I don't really know what happened. It is all like one of those damn bad dreams that you're shocked your brain thought up. Nothing ever made me think anything like this was possible."
"It is always in life's little twists and turns that we learn was can truly happen. No one can predict it, but we have to be ready for anything, take it as it comes," Grissom kept his voice low.
None of the men could think of anything to say as they looked down at the still girl. She was the symbol they would have to move around to work into the future. Now that demon had a face, a voice. Warrick wasn't thrilled at that prospect, but figured it might help things get along easier.
He turned his attention away from the conversation Grissom and Brass had taken up and looked over at his other friends. It was then he realized that having a face to the problem wasn't going to help Nick. This was only going to make it worse for his brother.
"Ah man. Nick, you okay, bro?"
But he gained no response from the targeted man. Catherine looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Now Warrick could see the tears that were begging to escape her eyes though she was fighting them back. It twisted his heart up a little more.
With a groan, he moved his lanky body so that he was now sitting next to Nick. The other man didn't move or even acknowledge the new person next to him. Warrick looked over at Catherine, hoping his eyes conveyed what he wanted. The nod he received was enough to prove it worked.
Catherine squeezed Nick's shoulder before slapping it down onto her thigh, "Come on Greg. Let's get you up off this floor and onto a chair. I want to see your leg."
The young man looked like a deer in brights. He had been quiet, not trying to draw attention to himself the entire time. It was enough to watch and observe. Others needed more help than him. Greg didn't want to have anyone think any different. But now Catherine was on him. And from the look he was getting, there was no point in saying anything negative.
"Alright, but gonna need some help," he smiled sweetly at her.
"Of course," Catherine stood in front of him and offered both her hands, "Come on. Show me those tough muscles you got."
Neither Warrick or Nick watched the two move away from them. Nick's eyes were locked on the gray face of Andrew, Warrick on the white washed face of Nick. Both their breathing was quiet, on beat together. Though Nick's would hitch and jerk every now and then with his gasps and hiccups.
Taking a deep breath of his own, Warrick finally looked down to study Andrew's face, "Ah shit. So sorry man,"
That managed to get Nick to move. His right hand reached up, trembling, and rubbed at his nose. Nick sniffled a little and shook his head, clearing some thoughts away. Warrick felt as if he were hovering over his friend, but didn't want to move away from even a moment.
"You okay, Nicky?"
Nick cleared his throat a little, "Sure, why not."
"Not a good answer. Nothing more?"
"What ya want, 'Rick?" Nick huffed as he turned a glare onto the taller man.
"Just a little honesty. That's all I'm asking for. Nor a whole lot to ask for, man. Then, you can ignore me the entire way back to Vegas."
A heavy, loaded sigh left Nick. It left his body looking deflated. He looked like a young boy, who had just been told his favorite toy had been lost somewhere far away. His shoulders curled downward, tight towards his chest. Nick pulled his legs a little closer, hissing in discomfort at the pull of muscle and bone. There was pure mutiny throughout his entire frame. His mind was beginning to lose.
"It hurts…"
Warrick had to lean closer to catch the whispered words. His brow drew together at the comment, trying to determine what was meant by it. It was a loaded couple of words. There were many things that could hurt. Warrick just needed to pick one and go with it.
Or ask another question, "What hurts?"
Squeezing his eyes tightly together, Nick shook his entire body a little, "Everything. Just don't want to do this anymore. Want out."
Reacting on instinct, Warrick reached out a hand and brushed it across the other man's forehead. His own grandmother had done this all the time when he was a child. It helped to calm the muscles of his face, allow him to calm himself down. And it seemed to work a little on Nick. The lines around his eyes weren't quite as tight, though not gone.
"Almost there, bro. Just have to wait for the cavalry to get here. Then you can take a nap or something."
"Or something…" Nick snapped his eyes open and looked back down at Andrew. The sight was suddenly too much for him. His entire digestive system twisted and lurched. Nick threw himself up to his feet before he even knew he did it. And from the shocked look on Warrick's face, the taller man wasn't ready for it either.
"Need to move."
Nick bolted from the room faster than he should have been able to move. Everyone appeared to be shocked at this sudden development, but there was no time to think or worry about them. No, this wasn't about them this time. It was bigger then them. And it made Nick feel even more nauseous as he moved.
His legs gave out on his only about ten feet from the doorway. Nick went down hard onto his knees, crying out at the impact. It was hard enough to get his teeth to clack together painfully. There was shifting within his torso. Pain filled every one of his nerve endings.
The tears couldn't be held back now. Any stubbornness he had left was wiped out. His eyes filled and overflowed. Air was sucked into his lungs and pushed out in shaking sobs. Movement occurred around him, a steady arm went around his shoulders/
He blindly reached out and bunched his fists up in the shirt he felt brushing against his arm. The scent of Warrick slammed into him, but he didn't have the energy to find his pride in this matter. It was lost in the flood. He was lost. It all hurt. And for once, he wasn't going to hold it in. Nick Stokes was going to let it all out, consequences be damned.
Warrick tightened his arm around Nick, trying to keep the man from injuring himself anymore as well as trying to comfort him. He had followed the Texan out of the room, waving everyone else back. This was something Nick was going to killing himself over later in time and Warrick wanted to make sure there weren't that many witnesses. But he was pretty sure they all knew what was going on anyways. Nick was being fairly loud in his pain and grief.
"It's alright. It's okay. Just breathe, bro."
Shaking his head, Nick tried to answer, tell him no, but couldn't get the words to form. Over his sobs, he could hear new noises, ones that he hadn't thought he was going to hear for a long time. There were sirens, lots of them coming. Help was finally coming. It made his sob even harder.
"They're coming, Nicky. Gonna go home soon. Gonna be okay."
Warrick kept talking, trying to keep something for Nick to focus on. The sobs were rough as Nick tried to fight them under control. He wasn't about to let total strangers see him in this position. These people would have enough to judge on him. And it made a small sliver of his being nervous and ashamed. But it was ignored.
There were footsteps behind them. Warrick turned to look at Grissom. The older man looked completely different. It took a second for Warrick to figure it out. Grissom was hurting for his guys, upset at what had happened. Emotions were strong enough to even break through the wall that Grissom had constructed around his face.
"I'll go wait for them. Direct them in here. Don't let him move. Catherine will hold down the room for now. Just don't move."
He nodded as Grissom walked away, with a quick step. Brass shuffled quickly after, mumbling something about that CSI needing some help with this and not to leave the detective behind. Nick chuckled a little under his arm.
"Oh, and what's so funny?"
Nick raised a white hand to run it through his mop tresses, "Old married couple. Bicker like the best of 'em."
"Got that right," Warrick laughed a little. He relaxed a little. And, he hurt a little more.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine couldn't sit still. There were ambulances on their way. She had a rush of adrenaline and it made her want to mother even more. But Greg kept pushing her away. They had been left alone in the room with dead bodies and injured teenagers. Not a whole lot to mother, other than Greg.
"Come on, Catherine. I'm fine. Just leave it…don't touch that!"
She lifted her hand, question in her eyes. All she had been doing is checking to make sure Greg only had one injury. There was nothing implied by anything. Hell, she had barely applied any pressure.
"Need to lighten up, Greggo."
"And you need to stop feeling me up. If you want to see the goods, need to buy me dinner first at least. Would be the lady like thing to do after all. Then you can look all you want."
Greg smirked at the smack to his arm. It helped to cover his pain, his confusion. Catherine was smothering him, that was for sure. And he needed to distract her a little. Show her less pain. Then maybe they would get him out of this place completely unmolested.
"Like you'd have a chance. Can't do punk rock in dancing shoes," Catherine threw her blonde hair over her shoulder and moved away a little. Not far enough for Greg's liking, but it was a better distance.
He signed, dropping his head a little, "Never been shot before. I dunno, didn't hurt, then it did. Now again, not so much. Don't quite get it. I thought it was supposed to be one of the worst pains."
"Can't help ya there. Never been shot. Been in situations with bullets flying, but never intercepted one myself. But I've heard it is sometimes odd. Besides, once the shock wears off, you'll feel it just fine. Be thankful for this."
Forgetting that she wasn't mothering anymore, Catherine reached out and took the younger man's hand in her own. It was an anchor for both of them, quite possibly more for Catherine. She kept seeing the scene as they walked fresh into the room. And she could still hear the sobs from Nick as he rushed from the room.
It took her only a minute to listen to the sounds of the paramedics rushing into the building. Orders were being barked out on radios, static filled the air. People were here, people in control. She felt as if she had none. Someone was going to have to help her catch everyone on this one.
A gurney squeaked as it was led into the room. There were several lanterns of light placed on the ground. It cast yellow shadows around the room. Without thinking, Catherine turned Greg's face completely to her. She could see what Andrew looked like, but didn't want the young CSI to see it. Catherine could handle it. She just didn't want to make Greg try to.
Several people surrounded her. They pulled at her arms, asking her if she was okay. Someone pulled Greg from her. He made a sound of pain as they moved his leg. Greg reached down to grab at his thigh to try to ward off some of the throbbing.
He was dazed a little by everything. The lights were a little too bright and made his head hurt. Someone was shinning a pen light into his right eye. Greg gasped and turned away. Pressure was applied to the gun shot wound in his leg. He hissed through clenched teeth.
"Sir, can you walk? Do you have any other injuries?"
"No, just my leg," Greg tried to think, but was failing at it. It all ached inside his brain.
"Alright. Just hold it tight. We'll get you out of here in no time. Just going to move you outside the building at first. Have others we need to get to first."
Greg didn't have a chance to answer as his arms were pulled upwards. His weight shifted upright and he was standing on his good leg. One of his arms was draped over someone's shoulders and he was being pulled. He stumbled a little, but was able to keep up with the steps.
There were more lanterns in the hallway. He followed the lights, the bodies around him. A reassurance from Catherine reached his ears every couple of steps. As they entered the band room, it helped a great deal. As did the rush of fresh air. He sucked up a lung full with complete greed.
"Here, sir. Just sit here. Try to breathe and relax. If you get dizzy or sick, lower your head to your knees and takes some deep breaths. We'll get someone over here to check on that wound and get you hooked up to a line. Not too much longer, sir."
Getting called sir so many times was going to go to his head. Greg just nodded and allowed them to sit him down on something. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it held. And Catherine sat next to him. She took his hand again.
"Where's Nick? Warrick?" he asked in a small voice, exhaustion creeping in quickly.
Catherine looked around, trying to see someone she knew. Some she caught sight of Grissom's hair, "They're over there. Looks like they get one of the rigs first."
Yawning suddenly, Greg nodded and leaned his head on Catherine's shoulder, "Good. They need it more than me. I'd walk back if they let me."
"Uh huh. Whatever, Greg. You can jog next to the truck, I'll time ya," Catherine ran her free hand through Greg's hair. A small, sad smile settled over her lips. It was almost over.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The two older men didn't know what to do with themselves. Warrick would have laughed if he wasn't losing all his energy. They were all outside now. Just had to wait to be carted away. But he was fine with it. He was there, with Nick, with their friends.
Grissom and Brass were talking with the sheriff, trying to figure out the best way to do this. There were only three ambulances, but more injured people than that. If Warrick had his way, Nick would already be gone in his own private carriage. But he didn't have his way, Nick did. And Nick wanted everyone else taken care of first. Including Andrew.
Two gurneys were pulled through the destruction, two teenage girls attached to the tops. Natalie and Amber both had oxygen masks secured over their faces. People were running around each, talking quickly. Both were going to be saved if at all possible. Then they would serve justice. Someone was going down for all of this. Warrick would prefer to see both.
Snatches of the conversation to his side hit him as he fought to keep his eyes open. Seems the sheriff got to work quickly and had done a little research on Amber's web page. It was all there. They had detailed everything out on that spot. Anyone could read it and see what they were planning to do. And who they planned on killing and injuring to do it.
They had planned things so there would be a couple extra kids along to frame and possibly use if need be. Brought in guns and knives just in case. Never wanted to be short a weapon supply when one went killing. All they missed was the weather report.
A third gurney left the building now. Nick looked up now at the sound. Though there really wasn't one from anyone. Only two people worked with this one. The sheet was pulled up and over the top. His eyes ached as he watched them move Andrew over to one of the ambulances.
His body had been slowly leaning into Warrick from where he had been placed. Blood was slowly running from his wounds, draining away from his grasp. Tiny white dots were floating in his vision. All sounds carried an odd fuzz to them.
Out of nowhere, two paramedics dropped in front of them. Orders and instructions were being told. Nick couldn't bring himself to listen all that closely. He just kept his eyes open and watched what was going on.
Greg and Catherine were being ushered into a squad car, a paramedic getting in behind them. The lights were bright on top as it revved up and prepared to make its journey away from this mess.
He watched through a fog glass as Grissom and Brass moved away with the sheriff. Nick did catch their worried glance. They both knew as well as he did there was little they would be able to do for the two remaining CSI's. Professional help was better suited here.
"I need you two to walk with us. We're going to get you out of here now. Have to get you into the rig."
Nick felt as if he were watching the scene from a few feet away. His body was heaved upright. Everything had turned to jelly and Nick couldn't get his feet underneath him. They had to do all the work for him. He couldn't even keep his head upright.
The ambulance seemed to be tall, high from the ground. Nick frowned as he looked at it. There was no way he was getting up into that. But hands suddenly turned him and pushed his downward. His body came into contact with something soft. He was being strapped down onto something. Panic flooded his senses for a moment. Until he felt Warrick's hand close around his.
They were both loaded, him on the bed, Warrick on the bench. He wondered at this for a moment. There had been three ambulances and from his experience, that meant only three gurneys. Something was pushed through the flesh of his arm and those thoughts were lost. His eyes were heavy. But he fought to find Warrick's gaze.
His best friend was looking out the ambulance's rear window. There was a look of sadness in those green eyes. Nick didn't like it and coughed a little. It worked and go Warrick's attention. Nick lost his battle and gave into the drugs. He signed into his sea of darkness and stillness.
He never saw the body on the ground, sheet still in place. Or how Grissom and Brass stood over it, protecting it from everything. Nick missed how the cops began to take things apart, create a new crime scene. No, he missed it all. But there would be plenty of time to think and remember in dreams. He wasn't going to be the only one to have nightmares of this one.
Twisters would ruin the world, guns would take away kids. Red hair would clash with the gray rain clouds. Laughter would beat out the thunder. But right now, only silence. The band was done. The curtain had fallen. All that was left, the empty theater with echoes of what was.
The End
Author's Final Note: Well, that's all there was folks. So glad this went over so well. Thank you to everyone, new and old who read this and stuck it out with me. Means way too much on how you all are so great about this kind of stuff. And this story officially had the most people on the alert list! It was impressive to see how many people were on board for it. To the silent readers, thanks for showing up!
So, now we have to get back to work. Have that other story that many people have been asking about and waiting for. And I think y'all know what that is!
NEW FAN FICTION!
To Whom It May Concern - Summary: Have you ever felt like your life was nothing more than a song eternally set on repeat? … Wait. I forgot. Part of making this work was details. No one was going to read this anyways.
Now, this story isn't near being ready. I have started a great deal on it over the past couple of months, but there is still a lot more to do with it. Gonna need some time. This story is either going to make or break me. It is going to be something a little different and hopefully a lot more complex than you're used to from me.
But in the mean time, for those of you who are new to my stuff or need a refresher, this is a sequel to Poisonous Fear. You need to know that one to understand a lot of what will be going on in this one. People will be coming back; stuff will be brought back into play. It isn't going to be connected anyway with this story. So, it will take place in Season 6 and have nothing from this in it.
Also, I promised a little happy ficlet for Sara (rojaji) and I plan on keeping it. Just have to figure something out. Gonna have the boys doing something other than getting hurt in that one!
Alright, I'm out of here! Thanks again for everything! And as always, let me know what you thought of the chapter, the entire story. Any suggestions and comments will be taken into consideration. I try to fix as I go! Have a great little break from me! Drop me a line at any time! Prod me into gear! See ya again soon!