Author's note: Kinda short, but hey, two chapters in a row? that's somethin for me. lol7
Spoilers: I will generally tell what spoilers the chapters contain. In this Chapter: Pledging Mr. Johnson
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 10: Worries
The sun had just rose in the sky as Sara dabbed Greg's forehead with a wet cloth. His condition had worsened considerably. His pale skin was shiny with perspiration and he had begun to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Vomit leaked out of his mouth every so often, at which he would splutter and one of his companions would turn him on his side so he wouldn't choke.
"How is he?" Nick asked as he approached her and squatted down. Sara shook her head.
"About the same as before," she sighed sadly.
"Warrick and I were talking. We're going to try to get the shelter finished ASAP. It would give Greg some protection from the sun," Nick explained. Sara nodded.
"One of us stays with Greg and the rest work on the shelter, right?" she said, fully comprehending what the plan was. Nick nodded.
"It's my turn, you know. Go get some rest before work," he prodded gently. She smiled gratefully at him and went to grab some breakfast. Nick just stared at Greg's pale face, wishing that he would wake up.
Grissom, Catherine, Sara, and Warrick worked on the shelter for most of the day, only stopping for meals. At noon, Warrick relieved Nick. They stopped for supper and then it was Grissom's turn to look over Greg. This became their new routine, even though the mood was just as sombre as when they brought Greg back to camp.
Hardly a word was spoken the next day amongst the workers. True as it was, the CSIs had always done their best work in Las Vegas when they let each other have their space. The castaways on the island, however, were having trouble with this lack of communication.
"Cath, could you hand me that?" Grissom asked, trying to balance one of the walls.
"Give you what?" Catherine asked.
"Catherine!" he groaned as he let the wall fall to the sand.
"What? What did you want?" she asked again.
"That rock to pound the wall in! I asked you for it!" he cried pointing to a good-size rock lying in the sand.
"No, you asked me for 'that' not 'the rock'," she argued, "How in the Hell was I supposed to know that's what you wanted?"
"Hmm…maybe you saw me struggling with that pile of sticks," he shot back. His voice was tinged with cold on this hot day. She glared at him, deciding not to take his bullshit.
"Well then, you can continue to struggle with them on your own!" she shouted, looking mutinous as she said it. With that she stormed over to where Warrick was looking over Greg and told him to go help the others. She sat for a moment, dabbing Greg's face with a cloth.
"Why are we fighting over a rock?" Gil asked, and she was surprised to see him standing there. Looking up at his face, she saw he was just as perplexed as she was.
"I don't know," she replied, trying to ponder why they were arguing over something so trivial. She gave up and then laughed bitterly.
"What?" he asked, confused by her strange behaviour.
"Look at us. We're a mess. In all the years we've known each other, we've maybe have about…oh, I dunno…four or five fights like this and now we're arguing over a rock," she explained bitterly. He saw her point.
"You're right, Cath," he said softly, "But we've always made up after every fight. Why should this be any different? Truce?" he asked, offering her a hand. She smiled at him, remembering after one particular quarrel, he had asked her that same question.
"I would love that," she replied, taking his hand, "Gil, what's going to happen?" she asked in a whisper after a moment of silence.
"What do you mean?" he asked just as softly.
"What's going to happen if the worst should happen?" she asked again. He swallowed.
"I don't know," he replied, getting more and more used to saying those words.
"Hardly a word has been spoken the past two days. Greg's just sick now and already we've all become distant with each other. You and I were fighting over a rock. I'm worried, Gil. I'm worried about Greg, about Nick, Sara, and Warrick, and…and about us," she confessed. The fact that the Catherine Willows he knew was confessing her fears and worries made him consider the validation of her concerns.
"You're worried we all won't make it," he stated. No, he was worried they all wouldn't make it.
"I'm scared, Gil," she admitted.
"Me too, Catherine. Me too," he revealed. They looked at each other and put on a brave smile just for the other. They sat in silence for a moment, which was only broken when they heard Greg splutter. Vomit was leaking from his mouth. Catherine jumped up and quickly turned him on his side so he wouldn't choke. Gil moved to dab his head with a cloth. The fit subsided and Greg fell back into his sleep, more pale and breathing harder.
"What's going on?" Warrick asked as he, Nick, and Sara rushed up from the beach.
"He's getting worse," Catherine replied, gently dabbing at Greg's forehead.
"If he keeps getting sick, he'll be more and more dehydrated," Gil said.
"Isn't there any way we can get water into him?" Sara asked.
"It might help him get some strength back," Nick agreed. Gil seemed lost in thought for a moment until a solution came to him.
"Somebody go grab a shell full of fresh water. Some of us will have to support Greg in a sitting position. Then we'll pour a little bit in his mouth and see what happens," he explained. While Sara ran to get the water, Nick and Warrick held Greg in a sitting position and Gil and Catherine gently tried to coax Greg out of his slumber.
"Come on, Greg. Wake up," Catherine said, gently shaking his shoulder.
"This will help, Greg. Just wake up now," Gil tried, also nudging him. There was a moan in reply. That was good enough. Grissom took the shell of water from Sara and carefully tipped a small amount into Greg's mouth. Greg swallowed and did not splutter. Grissom poured again, and again, Greg swallowed. Grissom was able to do this two more times before Greg began to splutter. They then lay Greg back down so he could get some rest.
"It worked," Warrick said, "At least we know he has some control over his own reflexes. We should try to do that often."
"Every hour would do," Grissom agreed. Soon giving Greg water had become easy enough for two people to do. Everyone became accustomed to this delicate procedure to know what they were doing. Every hour Greg's caretaker would call one of the others from shelter building to help with the water.
"Do you realize how much Greg would love all of this attention?" Catherine asked later that night at dinner. They had decided to eat by the raft tonight.
"He'd be all over it," Nick agreed affectionately.
"Remember how it used to take him a good five minutes to give us our DNA results just because he wanted to make a presentation?" Warrick reminisced, a small smile playing on his features.
"How often did he have that stereo of his blaring through the lab?" Grissom chimed in.
"Too often," Catherine agreed. They shared a small laugh.
"His hair is so flat," Sara commented, looking over at Greg's pale face with watery eyes. When Greg had been new to the field, he and Sara had always been paired up, not that either of them minded. Greg had wanted to learn and in the process, he managed to pull Sara's head just up out of the microscope. Nick placed an arm across her shoulders and the rest just sat in silence. Darkness came and they all fell asleep near the raft, except for Grissom, who kept one eye on Greg, and one on the sleeping forms of the rest.
TBC