Author's note: i meant to update sooner...i really did! All in all enjoy...This has finally come out right. Our friends are headed for more trouble, I am sad to say.
Spoilers: I will generally tell what spoilers the chapters contain. In this Chapter: slight Grave Danger references
Summary: When Ecklie chooses Grissom's team to head to a conference in London, the Las Vegas CSI nightshift couldn't be more excited. Then their plane crashes in the sea. Now Grissom, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Sara, and Greg are stranded on a deserted island and their only way home is to survive.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.or William Golding's "Lord Of The Flies"
Surviving the Storm
Chapter 7: New Discoveries
Over the next three days, the CSIs fell into a routine. In the mornings, after they washed up and had breakfast, which would vary depending on what was found the previous day, they would split off and some would gather firewood, and the others would continue working on their shelter. Then, after lunch, it was bath time. The sun was always hottest at this time in the day and just playing in the water was most appealing to everyone. After swimming, general chores around camp were taken care of. These would range from tending to the fire to gathering food to fetching water to boil. These chores weren't assigned or anything like that. They all knew what needed to be done and did it. It was just like being back in Vegas at work. When supper rolled around, everyone ate together, and afterwards, everyone helped clean-up. Then they would all go gathering, either separated into smaller groups or as one big group. When they returned, it would be close to sunset and just some tidying up around camp was done. After darkness fell, some would sit around the fire, some would crash early, or they would all sit and talk around the fire. Once again, the six criminalists had proved their effectiveness.
The shelter was taking some time, but they were making progress. Two walls had been completed and were lying on the sand until the other two were finished. Nick and Warrick had put together a door frame and had stuck it in the sand the previous night as a joke. Whenever they walked towards the beach, they had to walk in between their two sticks. It had gotten lame fast. Even Greg had only half-heartedly joined in to their antics. This struck all of them as odd. Back in Las Vegas, he was always the one cracking lame jokes, but now he looked pale and tired. Maybe it was from his cold, which had established itself earlier, or perhaps the effects of the island were starting to take a toll on his boyish demeanour, as it had already begun for the rest of them.
Today it was about two o'clock on their seventh day of being plane-wrecked. The sun was as hot as ever as the castaways lay in the shadows of the palm trees. Catherine sighed as she sat up and looked at her coworkers. Even after only a few days on the island, she could see the changes of appearance in all of them. All of the men had discarded their shirts in the sand, save for Grissom, who wore a white undershirt. Sunburns marred the skin that showed while various cuts, scrapes, and bruises lined arms, torso, and legs. Pants were torn and salt-crusted and stained with dirt and sweat. Catherine and Sara, in an effort to keep cool, fashioned their shirts so that they could be worn like tube-tops, while their own jeans were rolled up to their knees. Their hair was worn up in ponytails rather then keeping it down. Despite their best efforts, all of the guys looked rather scruffy. Warrick's once clean-shaven face was full of stubble and Nick had the beginnings of a very Grissom-like beard. Grissom himself was badly in need of a trim, while Greg seemed to grow little stubble, yet his hair was already almost hanging into his eyes.
Finally, unable to take much more of sitting there and looking at the others, Catherine rose to her feet.
"Does anyone want to come for a walk?" she asked, breaking the silence. Warrick shook his head, while Nick and Sara groaned in response. Greg didn't even wake up. Grissom, however, nodded and rose to his feet.
Hardly a word was spoken between the two as they walked along the beach, keeping in the shade of the palms. The silence wasn't awkward. Silence was hardly ever awkward between the two of them. This reminded her so much of home that she smiled brightly. Grissom, catching her smile, looked perplexed.
"What?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"C'mon Cath," he coaxed, looking at her.
"This just reminds me of home," she replied simply.
"What? Walking?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head and laughed.
"No. Us."
"I guess it does," he said softly. The silence consumed them once more. Not a word was spoken as they turned into the trees, winding a path to the stream.
"Cath, stop," Grissom whispered urgently as they were nearing the stream.
"If we're stopping because of another bug, I swear I'll-"
"Shh! Look!" he whispered again pointing towards the stream. She saw it and her eyes widened.
"Is that a boar?" she asked incredulously. He nodded as the wild animal finished its drink and capered deeper into the forest.
"Amazing," Grissom breathed.
"How did we miss that?" Catherine asked.
"None of us has been all over the island yet," he answered simply, then he smirked, "Actually, that just might be your animal friend from our first night here."
"Ha ha ha," she said dryly. She moved towards the clearing and water.
"Shall we tell Nick that we found his bacon?" Grissom asked, following her. She stopped and looked back at him, smiling.
"I don't know. He might pull a Jack Merridew on us and go savage," she joked and took a few steps forward. The reference to 'Lord of the Flies' was not lost to him, yet it took him a moment to respond because, not for the first time in his life, he found himself staring at Catherine Willows.
"I don't think Nick is a likely candidate for face-paint," he recovered lamely. She smiled slightly.
"Shall we go home?" she asked.
"Lead the way."
When they got "home", the others seemed to be amusing themselves, for Warrick and Sara were rolling in the sand laughing. Moving a little further down the beach, Grissom and Catherine saw the cause of their laughter. Sprawled out in a heap was Greg and Nick, white feathers were in the sand around them and they both had pained expressions on their faces.
"What happened?" Catherine asked, looking at the chaos on the beach.
"Nick…and…Greg…seagull…" Warrick said in between breaths.
"It isn't funny!" Greg pouted, rubbing a new bruise on his arm.
"Yes, it is!" Sara retorted, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I don't know what's more bruised; my butt or my ego," Nick groaned pushing himself up off the sand.
"Okay then," Catherine said, staring at the four of them like they lost their minds.
"Man, I'll remember that to my dying day," Warrick said, his breathing still laboured.
"You would've thanked us if we caught that stupid thing," Greg scoffed.
"But instead we thank you for the laugh you provided us with," Sara said smugly, pleased with getting one-up on her spiky-haired companion. Grissom shook his head and turned to Catherine.
"Your Jack Merridew theory may not be that far off," he said, offering her a smile. She willingly accepted and smiled along with him.
"Huh?" Nick asked, looking from Grissom to Catherine and back again.
"While we were on our walk we came across a wild boar," Catherine explained.
"Are you serious?" Warrick asked.
"No, we're just saying it to get your hopes up," Grissom said sarcastically, then in his normal tone, "Yes; it was just by the river."
They all stared for a moment because the Gil Grissom they all knew was never that sarcastic. Then the moment was over.
"So we could have eggs AND bacon?" Nick asked, grinning.
"Yup," Catherine responded, grinning at the expressions of joy on everyone's face.
"After the shelter is finished, of course," Grissom chimed in.
"Then let's get crackin'" Greg said, rubbing his hands together.
The six of them worked on the shelter for the remainder of the afternoon and to some extent in the evening. The mood at dinner was light and casual as everyone was feeling better about the promise of meat soon. Even Sara was excited.
Again, after darkness fell, everyone filed into the raft for a rather uncomfortable sleep.
Except tonight felt different to Sara. For some odd reason, she could not seem to fall asleep. Instead she lay looking up at the stars. In truth they really were beautiful and they looked so clear and bright compared to home. Home. It seemed like a distant memory, like an obscure fantasy-
His reverie was interrupted as one of her six companions- Nick, by the look of the faint outline in the dark, carefully got out of the raft and made his way to the dying embers of the fire. She watched him as his outline became clearer in the dull fire light. He just sat, adding more twigs and smaller sticks to the flame, until he seemed satisfied enough to sit in the sand, looking up at the heavens. Sara wondered if he did this every night. She watched him for a moment before she decided to follow suit and go sit by him. He looked up as he heard her approach.
"Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" he whispered. She shook her head.
"No. I couldn't sleep," she responded softly, "Do you do this every night?" she asked, sitting beside him.
"Yeah," was the soft reply she received. She cocked an eyebrow.
"When do you sleep?"
"When I fall asleep," he answered, then realizing what an unsatisfying answer that was, he added, "Lately I've been having trouble sleeping. The fire seems to help."
She could see what he meant. The flickering flame was almost hypnotising and the heat served as a blanket.
"The plane crash?" she asked. He shook his head and smiled bitterly.
"Before that," he answered. She nodded, knowing enough not to push him. Then he laughed softly.
"This is crazy," he whispered, laughing, "My remedy for nightmares is to crash a plane in the ocean, almost die it the Atlantic, exhaust myself paddling to a god-forsaken island, live off of salad…oh and don't forget- stare at a frickin' camp fire."
"Nick-"
"Sara, we're…" he broke off, not willing to speak of their doom. Somehow during his rant, he had rose and paced around the fire.
"Nick…we're not…we're doing okay," Sara said, slightly shaken. She had never seen him act this way…he was always the optimist.
"For how long?" he asked, his voice strained. She bit her lip.
"I don't know, Nick."
Then she did something she had done only once before, after he was released from the hospital after being buried alive; she hugged him. They stood like this for a moment, before breaking the contact and sitting back in the sand.
"Sara?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
Of the four CSIs in the raft, Warrick was the first to get up the next morning. After washing his hands and face, he made his way to tend to the fire, yet along with the dead embers, he found two of his friends fast asleep in each others arms.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said softly, a smile playing on his lips.
"What are you staring at?" Greg asked, coming up behind him. Warrick put a finger to his lips and pointed to Nick and Sara.
"Ain't they cute?" Warrick asked in a baby voice. Greg snickered.
"Nick and Sara sitting in a tree…" just as Greg's little chant got started, Nick opened up his eyes.
"What?" he asked groggily. Warrick smirked.
"So, uh, what happened last night?" he asked. Nick looked confused until he felt movement in his arms. Looking down, Nick saw Sara opening up her eyes.
"What's goin' on?" she asked.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Greg sang. Sara saw her position and turned beat red, matching her companion.
"Err…Nick?" she asked softly.
"Umm…sorry Sar," he mumbled.
"First comes love…" Greg continued.
"Then comes marriage…" Warrick joined in.
"Then comes Nick and Sara pushing a baby carriage!" Now both of them were laughing.
"It's not what it looks like!" Nick protested, but to no avail.
"Don't worry man. We totally understand," Warrick smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Nothing happened," Sara retorted, looking unimpressed.
"Whatever you say," Greg replied still laughing. Sara punched him on the arm and made her way to the beach to clean up. Nick joined her. By the time they were washed up, Grissom and Catherine had woken up…and heard of Nick and Sara's night.
"Well at least you guys left the raft," Catherine quipped.
"Nothing happened!" Nick responded, "We just slept with each other…I mean, no…we fell asleep together!"
"Alright children," Grissom said with finality, "We need more water…any takers?"
"I'll go," Warrick volunteered at the same time as Nick, Greg, and Sara. Grissom quirked an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. At the same time all four bounded into the forest.
"You know," Catherine mused, sitting by the fire, "It worries me when it takes all four of them to fetch a couple coconut shells full of water." Grissom shrugged again.
"Well there's not much to do around here," he said simply.
"Ain't that the truth," she agreed. That familiar silence fell between them once more.
"So how come it takes four of us to get water?" Sara asked as they made their way to the stream.
"Well I originally volunteered at the same time as you and then Nick wanted to uh," Warrick paused after he caught the death glare from his friend, "and then Greg joined us."
"I didn't-" he paused as a coughs racked his body, "I didn't want to be left out," he finally finished.
"Greg, are you sure you're okay?" Nick asked.
"Fine," and with that Greg bounded in front of the little procession. After this the conversation was ceased as they arrived at the stream and got the water. Warrick had moved to the head of the pack.
"Where are you leading us, man?" Nick asked as Warrick took an unfamiliar turn.
"It's a shortcut," Warrick replied.
"If we get lost…" Sara started.
"Then we find our way to the ocean and walk down the beach until we find the camp," Warrick finished cheekily. She scowled at his back, while Nick smirked behind her. They took no notice of the unusually silent Greg.
Finally they burst through the last of the trees separating them from the beach. This patch of sand seemed different from the parts of the island they had seen thus far. There was something in the air that made the hairs on each criminalist back stand on end. Something oddly familiar…
Warrick took a few steps foreword, waving the flies away from his face.
"Is it just me or does this place give you the creeps too?" Greg spoke up, looking around.
"Definitely creepy," Sara agreed.
"Guys!" Nick called.
"What?" Warrick asked.
"You might want to take a look at this," Nick said as they approached.
All four criminalists looked down to see an all too familiar site.
TBC
AN: perfect place for a cliffy...don't worry next chapter won't take as long...i hope