Disclaimer: They're not mine
Rating: T or PG-13 for language and violence
Summary: It's 2am. The doorbell rings. A baby is crying. What are you going to do? W/S with GCR moments and a major case
Wonderful reviews yet again, all twelve of them (I can't believe I'm actually into double figures per chapter. How epic is that?). So I'm very much thanking Megara1 (no problem at all; it wasn't your fault in the slightest), aleja21 (haha – bitter much?), Shelbers, icklebitodd, JennCorinthos (very high praise indeed, thank you so very much), sidle girl, Katiyana, MissyJane, nick55, WSShippeR, Review1234 (I already know! Argh! But that's all I know, I don't know who so nothing more...shh...) and cherishedcrush. And icklebitodd, I don't know why I picked "Nathaniel" – I think I just like that name. It's sort of beautiful and gentle.
This quotation pretty much sums up how I feel about writing. Well, this one and "Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go." from E. L. Doctrow. And on the topic of creative writing, check out my profile for details on write impulsive. Someone actually HAS put some marvellous writing up there now so I'm extra happy. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
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Wake The Hope. Chapter Nine. Escapism
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"She realized...that if she sat down and wrote her stories,
She could escape the parts of life she didn't like,
Embroider the parts she did and thus control the life she had."
DUDLEY CLENDINEN
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Grissom claps his hands together in such a sudden, resolute action that makes Greg, Nick and Warrick jump.
"Back to work," he announces, shrugging off his emotional ties to the case and appealing to them to do the same.
"Someone has to look after Nate for tonight." Nick adds. "And I'm starting my shift in a couple of hours." He looks around the room at the others. Greg holds up his hands.
"No way, not me; you can talk to any of my family members with small kids," he shakes his head. "It's official – I can't be trusted not to drop young children. It's amazing some of my cousins don't have permanent brain damage."
Gil raises his eyebrows at Greg – yes, that sounds about right.
"Warrick," Grissom turns to him. "You just finished up a shift, right? Take the next one off – you're watching Nate."
Warrick stares blankly at his boss before shrugging his shoulders with a bleak expression. "Okay."
Grissom nods and heads out of the room with Greg following behind. Warrick sinks heavily down onto Sara's couch and barely notices when Nick sits beside him, looking curiously at him.
"What's going on, man?" he asks softly.
"What d'ya mean 'what's going on'? You heard what's going on. Sara was attacked." he deadpanned. Nick shakes his head.
"No but it's not just that, is it? I mean, it's really crap – we're lucky she's alive – but you've taken it really badly." Nick observes. Warrick turns to him, about to protest but he notices Nick's knowing expression and sighs, burying his head in his hands.
"It's really stupid, y'know. I just..." he searches for the right words. "I don't know how it happened. Sometimes when I'm over here giving her a hand with Nate, I'll suddenly catch a glimpse of ourselves and what we're doing. And it just looks right, you know? It feels right. I don't know what's going on with this but I'm...I'm crazy about her. And I should've been here. I should've been here."
He looks back at Nick helplessly. Nick puts a hand on his shoulder as he gets up to leave.
"I thought so," he says. "Don't blame yourself, 'Rick. It's wasted effort. Concentrate on catching the guy or on making this easier on Sara, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it."
Warrick smiles and nods. "You're right. Thanks, man."
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The nurse smiles cheerily at Sara as she prepares a rape exam. Sara wonders how someone could look so perky at the end of a graveyard shift, she wonders how Nate's doing and she wonders how Catherine finds the time to straighten her hair every morning in between juggling single parenthood and a hectic job; she thinks about everything in an attempt to forget what's about to happen. It's for her job, she reminds herself. This cringe-worthy violation is for the greater good.
"I'll be on the other side of the curtain, Sar," Catherine murmurs as the nurse brings out several tools that look less than friendly and Sara nods at her, suddenly feeling scared when Catherine slips away unseen behind the other side of the curtain.
"You've got fairly prominent tearing, Ms Sidle – so I'm sorry if this is a little uncomfortable," the nurse warns her.
"That's okay," Sara answers uncertainly. "Be as thorough as you need to be." All the same, Sara shuts her eyes and grips the edges of the mattress, overwhelmed by the same feelings of pain and humiliation.
"Catherine?" she calls out nervously through gritted teeth. 'A little uncomfortable' doesn't quite cut it, she muses dryly.
"I'm right here," comes Catherine's from the other side of the blue hospital curtains. Sara inhales sharply. Christ, she thinks, we damn well better get some DNA out of this.
"Talk to me, will you?" she asks in a small voice.
Catherine nods slightly and turns to face the folds of blue curtain. "Sure. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's making endless hours of small talk." she launches brightly. "You know you're very lucky it wasn't Gil who brought you; he couldn't chat mindlessly to save his life. Probably end up quoting Shakespeare at you and making you answer philosophical questions; horrible stuff that messes with your head."
Sara laughs and chances opening her eyes to stare at the white ceiling above her. "Still better Shakespeare than...Greg."
Catherine grins at her resilience. "Oh yeah, I'd take intelligent conversation with Grissom over some of Greg's questions any day. Can you believe he actually once asked me which one of the team I would choose to see naked if I had to?"
Grimacing, Sara tries to separate herself and the conversation from the rest of her body and replies, "And who did you pick?"
"Ha! I didn't pick anyone, although I heard you got to see all in a de-con shower," Catherine smirks. "How did things look for Mr Sanders?"
"Better than I expected," Sara admits with a laugh. "Considering the water was very cold." She hears Catherine laugh and it makes her feel better.
The nurse by the foot of the bed gets up, packing away the rape kit and Sara props herself up on her elbows.
"Are you done?" she asks her hopefully. The nurse seals the used swabs in individual bags and hands them to Catherine on the other side of the curtain before turning back to the patient.
"Ms Sidle – the internal lacerations are quite deep. It's going to need suturing to prevent prolonged blood loss," the nurse tells her delicately.
"Are you kidding me?" Sara stares incredulously. As if this night wasn't bad enough..."Stitches?"
"It'll be under a local anaesthetic," the nurse adds, consolingly. "Soluble sutures. They won't need to be taken out."
"Jesus Christ." Sara mutters despite the nurse's brave attempts at comforting her. She leans her head back with a sigh and fixes her eyes firmly on the ceiling above her. "You still there, Cath?"
"I'm still here, Sara." Catherine answers.
Sara gasps and clenches her fists. "I hope..." she begins in a slightly shaky voice, trying to ignore the sharp sting of the local anaesthetic injection. "I hope we get somewhere with this."
"It's alright, Sar – you've done really well in helping this," Catherine comforts her. "Just try not to think about it." She pauses when she gets no reply and hears Sara swear quietly on the other side of the curtain.
"Want me to tell you about the time Lindsey accidentally locked Gil in our bathroom?" she offers brightly. "She was about six. He was stuck in there until I came home from work four hours later."
Sara laughs again but more bitterly this time. "Hell yeah."
Catherine puts on a grin and launches animatedly into the story but can't take her eyes off the blood-covered swabs in the bag hanging from her hands.
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