Thanks for all the reviews. I really appreciate them. They keep me going. Anyway, I'm not that much of a writer, but I have dozens of ideas for stories in my head. If anyone wants one, just tell me.
Chapter 5
"And who might you be?" The head nurse asked, eyeing him curiously. She had been given specific instructions not to let anyone see the two new patients, that had been hurt, according to what she had heard, by a sick mad man. 'A serial killer on the loose?'
The man smiled gently. "Jim is one of my brothers."
'No. Not a serial killer. Not yet anyway.' The weary police captain had told her. Reminding her again that she were not to allow any civilian in. Not even a family member. She found the request confusing. Rarely had she come across a patient who did not want any visitors. Nevertheless she opened her mouth and passed on what the injured police captain had told her. "I'm sorry sir, but the patient has requested that no family member be allowed in."
The hearty laugh that followed sent a flush through her face. Had she done something wrong? She watched as the man reached for something in his shirt pocket. He showed what she recognized as a CSI ID. She shook her head, noticing that the man had done it somewhat abruptly. "I'm a CSI. I'm here to ask my good friend Jim a couple of questions."
She nodded. Looking as if she were contemplating on whether or not she should let the man in. With a wave of a hand, she dismissed him. "Fine. You can go. But hurry up. The patient is resting."
Already heading towards his destination, the man turned back and smirked at the nurse, who seemed to have gone back to whatever she had been doing before he had interrupted her. He found it ironic at how easily he could kill Jim Brass in his sleep. The temptation was alarming. But no. He was not a murderer. He would never kill anyone. At least not with his own hands.
Reaching into the bag he had brought, he took out an old lab coat that he had found, much to his luck, unattended in the hospital. With a smile on his lips, he entered the room, expecting to see the police captain resting. He found, however, that the nurse had been wrong.
Brass sat upright on the bed, a grumpy look on his face, beside him a trash can that he had been vomiting on for the past couple of hours. The irritated glint on the captains eyes showed that this was not where he had wanted to be right now. He seemed oblivious to the man who had just entered and it wasn't until he had heard someone clear his throat that he had actually begin to acknowledge the man's presence.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like a million bucks. Can I go now? I have a job to do."
"Not right now. Not yet anyway." The man replied. "I need to give you a shot."
"Shot?" Brass raised a suspicious brow raised. He was still feeling drowsy from the medicine that they had given him and he wanted nothing more than to leave the hospital and help find Sara. Hearing about Greg didn't help that matter either. His CSI senses, the ones that had rubbed off on him after years of friendship with Grissom, took hold almost immediately. Something was off, only he couldn't point out what. He grunted and continued. "I don't need anymore shots. I've been asleep all day."
"Are you a doctor, Captain Brass?" The man asked, as he reached for Brass's shoulder to administer the shot. He watched the police captain drift into unconsciousness before he could even protest. He was giving him the same sedative that he had given Sara, only in lesser amounts. If he had measured it right, Brass would wake up just in time for the fireworks.
"You know that I'm not." Brass slurred.
"Good." A smirk appeared on his face. "Because I'm not either."
"Wha-
The smirk on the man's face grew even larger. Hearing someone coming, he abruptly took his lab coat off and tilted his head at the police captain, who despite his efforts, could not even get out of bed. "You look tired Captain Brass. You should get your rest. I'm going to go check on Greg now."
He placed a note in Brass's hands and smiled at the oncoming nurse.
"Is everything alright here?" The on-duty nurse asked as soon as she saw Brass's sleeping form.
"Everything's great."
'One person dead is better than a hundred others. She told herself as she started removing the first bolt. 'Even if it is me.' She grinded her teeth in irritation. Charlie had been right, the bolts were loose. But they weren't loose enough to pull out. She found it ironic that even in near death, she still had to work her way through.
"Sara. Are you in there?"
The tenderness of Grissom's voice sent shivers down her spine. Closing her eyes, she savored them for a moment. His was probably the last voice she'd ever hear, and she was in no way complaining.
"Sara, I'm opening the-
Her eyes shot open before Grissom could finish. In what seemed like an adrenaline rush, she opened her mouth to warn him, not realizing how much pain would follow afterwards. "Grissom don't!"
On the other side, Grissom's eyes widened at the series of coughs, and what sounded like, vomiting, that followed her words. He had completely forgotten about the respiratory problems that chloramine could cause. A look of worry and confusion registered on his face when he realized that something else was going on.
"I'm going to slide a pen and a piece of paper underneath the door. I need you to tell me what's wrong."
She looked up and abruptly reached for the pen and paper. Should she tell him? She couldn't. It would only make matters harder. With a sigh, she conjured up what she thought was not a lie, but a vague version of the truth.
I'm fine, just a little flustered. There's a trap behind the door. Don't open it. I figured out a way to deactivate it. Just give me time.
