Author's note: HAHA! SUCCESS! LoL...sorry...but the deal is i just got my old computer back (it has no internet) so i was trying to figure out how i could get this lovely little chapter onto my newer computer. Anyhow...i figured it out! (stuff in italics is Greg's hallucination) Now on with the show...
Spoilers: I will generally tell what spoilers the chapters contain. In this Chapter: Just that stupendously horrific excuse of a finale for season 6: Way to Go (just greg's bit about Brass in a Sweater)
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.
Surviving the Storm
Chapter 9: The Search Parties
Nick and Warrick ran along the beach, urgently calling Greg's name. They stumbled along the rocky shoreline, which was so different then their own peaceful beach. Then they slowed their pace to a quick walk. A few minutes later, they started running again. They repeated this pattern until, the rocks finally gave way to sand, making it easier for them to run. After a half hour of this solid rhythm, they saw a familiar site: their camp.
"GREG!" Nick shouted once he had caught his breath. The only noise was Warrick's heavy breathing beside him.
"GREG!" Nick called again. Still, there was no answer.
"He's not here, man," Warrick breathed beside him, "Damn it! He's not here!" he repeated, kicking a log. Nick looked even more agitated.
"Maybe he's at the river-" he started.
"Maybe, Maybe, Maybe," Warrick hissed, "I'm sick of all the damn maybes! Maybe if one of us had gone instead of Greg, he wouldn't be gone! Maybe if our pilot hadn't crashed in the ocean, we'd be home! Maybe if Ecklie hadn't of wanted to get rid of us for a week, we never would've been on that stupid plane!"
"What is the matter with you?" Nick asked, looking at his friend incredulously.
"Are you blind, Nick? Look around! Greg's missing, we got little food, little water, and if it hasn't escaped you, we are marooned of a godforsaken spit of land!" Warrick shouted, kicking a coconut down the beach.
"Calm down, Warrick," Nick said, fighting to keep his voice in control.
"Yeah, Nick, pretend everything's okay! That's all you're good at!" Warrick shot at him.
"What the Hell did I ever do to you?" Nick scowled.
"Whatever!" Warrick said, stalking away from him, striking down the makeshift doorway standing upright in the sound.
"Do you think destroying our camp is going to find Greg?" Nick called in disgust. Warrick turned.
"At least I'm not just standing there!" he yelled, kicking sand at Nick.
"COOL IT!" Nick yelled back, shoving Warrick. Warrick shoved back and soon they were in the middle of an all out brawl.
After Nick and Warrick had taken off, Grissom, Catherine, and Sara decided to trek through the forest with a fine-toothed come in attempt to locate Greg. They each stood arms-length away from each other and walked through the bush, trying to find some trace of what happened to Greg. They walked as quick as they could through the low underbrush but that was still too slow for Catherine. Every so often, they would call out Greg's name, in hopes that he would hear him.
Soon the trio ventured into familiar territory around the river. Camp wasn't too far away.
"He's not here!" Catherine moaned, putting her head in her hands.
"We'll find him," Grissom said softly, the worried expression never leaving his face.
"This is all my fault- If I had gone instead of Greg-" Sara stammered, collapsing on the grass.
"It's nobody's fault," Catherine said, kneeling down.
"But if I-"
"Catherine is right, Sara. None of us could've known what was going to happen," Grissom added, though he was not convinced. He was the leader. He had noticed Greg's coughs, but every time Grissom had tried to talk sense to the younger man, Greg would dismiss him. If only I had forced Greg to rest… Grissom thought miserably.
"COOL IT!"
"What was that?" Catherine asked, staring from the direction that the voice came from.
"It sounded like Nick," Sara said softly. Grissom motioned for them to follow as he jogged through the trees back to their camp. When they got there, however, they were not prepared for what they saw.
Nick and Warrick were rolling in the sand, each getting their blows in as their tempers soared. Both of them tried to get one up on the other, but it proved to be impossible. Both of them were equally fit and both were not going to let the other have the upper hand.
"NICK! WARRICK!" Grissom shouted, trying to get in between the two of them. In the process he received a nasty blow to his right eye, from whom, he did not know, nor did he care. Finally he separated them, but both Nick and Warrick were still too angry to just stop. Warrick started forward to be blocked by Grissom, as Catherine and Sara were holding Nick back.
"STOP IT!" Grissom shouted again, pushing Warrick back further.
"What the Hell is wrong with you two?" Catherine cried, looking between them.
"Nick! Stop!" Sara grunted, as she attempted to restrain him for he had tried to double around her and Catherine.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Grissom yelled again, "Both of you, enough!"
"Fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to find Greg!" Catherine scolded. This fact seemed to quell their tempers.
"What's going on here?" Grissom asked roughly, squinting at the pair. His eye was already starting to blacken. Warrick and Nick stared at each other for a moment, and then both averted their eyes, thinking of the foolishness of their fight.
"It was nothing Griss," Nick muttered, sheepishly.
"It sure didn't look like nothing," Sara commented.
"I lost my temper. We got into an argument. I'm sorry, Nick," Warrick said, with his eyes still averted.
"Ah, it's okay. I'm sorry I shoved you," Nick said in the same voice.
"That will do," Grissom said, his eyes steely blue, "I take it no one found Greg?" he asked changing the topic.
"No. He wasn't in the trees?" Warrick asked.
"Not when we went through, but he's probably in there," Sara said worriedly.
"Let's go," Grissom said gruffly, already several steps in front of the troupe. They let their troubles rest as they bounded after him.
There was a buzzing and whirling of several machines humming in the darkness. He looked around, but all he could see was blackness. He took a shaky step and the dark world dissolved into a dark alley. He took another step and a bloody corpse appeared along with a police officer, puking his guts out. He winced at the image, and stumbled towards the body. Detective Jim Brass came into view, except Brass was not looking at the body, but at a map. And he was wearing a sweater. How peculiar. Another step and Grissom and Catherine appeared. He took two more steps towards them and Warrick, Nick, and Sara appeared, all five of them looking pale and tattered.
"What's the case, Jim?" Grissom asked, walking up to the detective's side with the others at his heels.
"Terrible, Gil. Terrible," Brass said, never looking up from the map. Catherine walked to the body.
"He was supposed to come back to us? Why did he go alone?" she asked, putting on her latex gloves.
"He said he could handle it. He said it was an allergy," Warrick said from behind her.
"We need to look for evidence in 'Jaws' and 'A Walk to Remember'" Nick added.
"Nick and I will look by the fire," Sara volunteered.
"We should get him to the morgue, right David?" Grissom said to the newly appeared David Phillips. Another step was taken and the secluded alley became a cold, white morgue. Doc Robbins stood over a gleaming white skeleton lying on a pile of sand. Grissom walked in.
"Was it the crash?" he asked the good doctor.
"Perhaps, but it could've been the cold salt water," Robbins said.
"Could he have been malnourished?" Grissom asked.
"It's possible. It could have been dehydration. He is bone dry," Robbins replied. Both he and Grissom laughed at the pun.
"This looks fatal," Grissom commented as a gaping hole appeared in the skeleton.
"My best guess? A .22," Robbins shrugged. That was not Robbins's voice. That was Nick's.
"I'll get this to the lab," Grissom said. A step later and the buzzing and whirring of machines were louder. Glass lined cubicles protected lab workers and their equipment. From somewhere, Marilyn Manson was blaring.
"Greg!" that was Catherine.
"Greg!" that was Nick.
"Greg!" Warrick too.
"Greg!" Sara as well.
"GREG!" Grissom. Now he was in for it.
"GREG!" Grissom bellowed through the forest. Darkness was nearing and they still hadn't found him. As much as Grissom's head pounded, he would not give up until they found Greg.
"GIL! GIL! OVER HERE!" Catherine shouted, breaking the line and stumbling through the low underbrush. She reached her destination in record time. She only paused for a second to take in what she saw. Greg was lying half slumped against a tree; his head had dropped to hit a rock. A small cut was visible. A pool of vomit beside him polluted the air with its putrid smell. His lips looked dry, yet there was bile oozing out of his mouth. His breathing was labored. She rushed to his side and supported his head. He was burning up.
"We need to get him back to camp!" Grissom said sharply, "Nick, Warrick!"
They moved to carry Greg with Grissom, Catherine, and Sara trailing behind.
When they arrived back to the camp, they placed Greg in the raft. They used a shirt as a makeshift pillow and a few others as blankets. Sara used a sleeve of hers to wet in the ocean to wet Greg down. They made quick work of his cut with the limited first aid supplies they acquired from the survival pack. Nothing more could be done.
"Alright. At least one of us has to stay with Greg at all times. I'll take the first shift," Grissom said shortly. That night the mood was very somber at the beach. There were no jokes around the fire, or the Movie Game. Nick, Warrick, and Sara just sat and ate dinner by the fire. There was no talking. Catherine got up with two plates and walked towards the edge of the raft, where Gil was watching over Greg.
"I got you supper," she said handing his plate to him and sat beside him with her own.
"Thanks," he said hollowly.
"Well, I can't let you starve. Lindsey would kill me," she said with a small smile. He looked up in recognition.
"Thanks, Cath," he said again. She gently rubbed his arm. He flinched at her touch.
"Gil, it wasn't your fault," she said softly.
"Yes, it is. I should've known-" his voice broke.
"None of us knew. We all thought the island was having an effect on him," she gently disputed him.
"But I should have," Grissom choked out. He was glad darkness had crept in on them, for she could not see that there were unshed tears of frustration in his eyes.
"Me too, Gil. Me too," she sounded as terrible as he felt. She moved to hug him and she was a little astounded when he did not protest. They stayed like this for a moment.
"Nice shiner," she said softly against his chest, causing a small chuckle to escape him as he watched Greg's chest rise and fall over her shoulder.
TBC