Author's note: Alright! I kept my word! I don't know how soon the next update will be, but i hope it will be soon. enjoy.
Spoilers: I will generally tell what spoilers the chapters contain. In this Chapter: none
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 13: Good News and Bad News
The next two days passed without an incident. Without the necessity of the shelter building, there was really nothing that needed to be done. Fire maintenance was easy enough and they went back to looking after Greg in shifts. It really wasn't uncommon for most of the group to disappear into the forest and only check back at meal times. As of today, Nick, Warrick, and Grissom had reappeared from the forest at lunch looking determined and scraped up.
"What happened to you three?" Catherine asked, surveying them.
"We saw a pig in the trees," Nick told her.
"And you tried to catch it?" Sara asked, coming out of the shelter.
"It's a lot harder than it looks," Warrick commented, helping himself to some fire roasted snails, their version of escargot.
"Great. Testosterone, pigs, and hunger…I wonder what could happen," Catherine quipped, rolling her eyes.
"I know you like pork and ham and bacon, Catherine," Gil said in a very tempting voice.
"You know me too well," she answered, as the images came flying into her head.
"And it's better than the snails," Nick agreed.
"I don't mind the snails," Sara spoke up, not liking the prospect of killing an innocent pig.
"You're the only one, Sar," Warrick told her.
"How are you guys going to manage this?" Catherine asked between mouthfuls.
"Spears and the knife," Nick answered.
"And then we'll try to sneak up on it," Grissom added. After lunch was done, Warrick, Nick, and Grissom went to go find sticks to sharpen into spears.
"I don't like this," Sara said to Catherine inside the shelter.
"Don't worry, Sara. You've seen them hunt seagulls. They're more likely to catch a cold," Catherine convinced.
"I hope you're right," Sara said uneasily.
"They need something to do. Why not give them sticks and let them 'hunt', especially if they bring back food," Catherine shrugged.
"We're going hunting," Grissom called, poking his head inside.
"See you later," Catherine sighed as she watched him disappear.
"I swear he's becoming as obnoxious as Nick and Warrick," Sara laughed. Catherine grinned.
"He was always as obnoxious as Nick and Warrick. He just doesn't choose to show it very often," she said. For the next hour, Catherine and Sara took turns watching Greg, bathing, and doing chores. They also talked a lot more than they ever had done at home. They discussed everything from science, to the men, to their home lives. Catherine even regaled Sara with a couple of tales about Grissom's younger days, causing both women to burst into fits of laughter.
"You don't think we could get them to build a couple of shelves in here, do you?" Sara asked as she put the clean pots on the floor.
"Well, they did dig a whole floor for us," Catherine replied, turning to grab a rag from the raft, but she stopped.
"What?" Sara asked, looking at her. Catherine broke out in a grin and Sara saw what she was smiling at. Greg was awake. Catherine walked over to him and sat beside him.
"Hey, Greggy. How are you feeling?" she asked softly.
"Hot," he said, and then he looked confused.
"What's wrong, Greg?" Sara asked, coming to sit beside them.
"I was in trees…and bones…" he trailed off, looking as though thinking was physically hurting him.
"It's okay, Greg," Catherine whispered soothingly as she took his temperature.
"Tell you and G-Grissom…" he mumbled.
"We know, Greg," she said, and then she looked over at Sara, "He's still a little warm."
"Where?" Greg asked, his eyes darting around the room.
"In the shelter you helped design," Catherine answered, shifting a little so that Sara could dab his face with a wet cloth.
"Shelter?" he asked, confused.
"We finished it while you were asleep," Sara explained.
"How long?" he asked.
"Six days. We were getting worried about you," Catherine answered, "Can you hold this?" she asked him, gesturing to the shell full of water Sara had fetched. He held out his hands, but he was weak and spilt most of it on himself.
"Here," Sara said, taking the shell and bringing it to his mouth. He drank greedily.
"Thirsty?" Catherine asked, grinning. He smiled a weak smile, but it was the equivalent of his normal devilish grin.
"Kinda tired," he yawned.
"Then get some sleep," Sara said kindly.
"Engines," Greg then said, perking up, trying to sit up, but fell back, exhausted. Sara and Catherine looked confused, and then they both heard the low rumble of engines. They ran outside and just saw the tail end of a small, single-engine seaplane skimming the surface of the ocean, just east of the island before it disappeared from view.
"A plane!" Catherine exclaimed in awe, thinking of the possibility of home.
"It's close!" Sara breathed.
"It could see us!" Catherine said, running to find a flare gun.
00
Nick, Warrick, and Grissom were exhausted. They had been walking as softly as they could, trying to track the pigs. They didn't know exactly where they were on the island, but judging from the position of the rocky hilltop to their position in the trees, they appeared to be on the eastern side of the island.
"So are we ever going to find a pig?" Warrick asked as they sat down for another break.
"Well, they're obviously not on this side of the island," Grissom agreed.
"I want to get one, though," Nick whined.
"We all do," Warrick consented irritably.
"Especially to show Sara and Catherine," Nick added. All three men knew that Sara and Catherine doubted that they would bring home the bacon, so to speak.
"What's the matter, Nicky? Do you want to catch a piggy-wiggy for Sara-Wara?" Warrick teased in a baby voice.
"Shut up!" Nick protested, "And she's a vegetarian."
"Ah, Nicky, we didn't know you cared," Grissom joined in.
"Go play in the water with Catherine," Nick shot back, scowling. Warrick laughed, while Grissom shrugged non-committal.
"Go sleep by the fire with Sara," Grissom retorted back.
"What is this, badger Nick day?" Nick asked rhetorically. Grissom and Warrick laughed, but soon stopped upon hearing a low rumble.
"That sounds like an engine," Grissom said, cocking his head. Warrick nodded.
"A plane, maybe?" he asked, looking in the general direction of the sound.
"C'mon," Nick ordered, already walking in the direction of the sound. Soon they were in an all-out run. The engine stopped and it was Grissom who got to his senses and realized where they were headed.
"Hold it! Hold it!" he cried, grabbing Nick and Warrick to a halt.
"Griss, what's up with you, man? We could get off this island!" Warrick asked.
"Yeah, Griss. We could go home," Nick added.
"I know, but look at where they landed. We found the body around here," Grissom explained. Warrick and Nick paused to consider this.
"They could be the ones who shot him," Warrick figured out.
"And they wouldn't hesitate to shoot us," Nick added.
"What do we do?" Warrick asked.
"Let's go see what they're up to, but keep out of sight!" Grissom ordered. They cautiously continued forward, aware that one sound could alert the visitors to their presence. They were close the edge of the trees now; they could here the ocean. Then they heard a voice with a slight Italian accent.
"What are we doing here, Boss?" the man asked. They crept closer and could see a man looking around the beach, several steps ahead of a small group of others.
"Like the seclusion, Pat?" a beefy man with a black beard and moustache asked with a noticeably American accent. There was something about his voice that bothered Grissom.
"It's alright," the man called Pat, answered, "Good place for trafficking." Trafficking what, Grissom, Warrick, and Nick, did not want to know.
"It's only part of the business we do here, Pat," the American informed him.
"What else do you do?" Pat asked, but his question was answered when he saw the shiny, white bones in front of him. He whirled around to face his companions and came face to face with a cold, steel gun.
"This," the American answered before he fired two rounds, straight into Pat's chest. Grissom, Nick, and Warrick saw the dead man fall to the ground, blood oozing from his mouth, obviously dead.
"What do we do now, Boss?" came an unwavering voice with a German accent. 'Boss' considered him for a moment.
"Search him," he said, turning to wade back to the seaplane anchored in the water. Grissom, Nick, and Warrick watched for a moment as the other men removed from the dead man's pockets a wallet, his valuables, and a small bag of white powder, before the castaways soundlessly made their way back deeper into the bush. Once they were sure they could not be detected, they stumbled deeper into the bushes before they stopped.
"They- they killed…" Nick trailed off, shaken by what he had just witnessed.
"Oh my God!" Warrick repeated over and over.
"If they found us…" Grissom trailed off, the words too horrible to say.
"They iced him," Warrick said, shocked, as he sat on a stump, "Now this! We've been plane wrecked, marooned on an island, Greg's sick, and now this!"
"How could it get any worse?" Nick asked. Grissom froze.
"Catherine and Sara," he said. All three men paused and stared at each other before they tore through the trees at top speed. If Catherine and Sara thought the plane could rescue them and got the murderers' attention, they would never make it.
The adrenaline was pumping as they ran passed the river and the rocky hill, only stopping when Grissom tripped on a low branch and nailed his head on a rock. Dazed, but not completely out of it, he was helped up by Nick and Warrick and they were back to running through the trees, hoping against hope that Catherine and Sara hadn't got unwanted attention.
00
"Damn him!" Catherine cursed as she tore through the survival pack, looking for the flare gun.
"We can't have lost it!" Sara cried in despair, helping Catherine search.
"If that man lost the flare guns, there will be hell to pay!" Catherine threatened, talking about Grissom. They heard an engine resume and that fevered their search. Finally Catherine came across it. She pointed it in the sky, ready to pull the trigger.
"NO!" Warrick shouted, as he, Nick, and Grissom came tearing out of the trees.
"Guys, there's a-" Sara never got to finish as she was seized by Nick. She looked over at Catherine and saw Warrick and Grissom wrestle the gun from her hands and Warrick grabbing her around the waist. Soon both women had been drug into the shelter and held by the three men. Greg was trying to position himself to see what was going on.
"What the HELL!" Catherine shouted, fighting against Warrick's grip.
"There was a plane!" Sara yelled.
"Shh!" all three men hissed. Soon they heard the engine go by and Grissom hazarded a look through a hole in the shelter, hoping that the plane had missed them. He saw it disappear in the distance and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"What the Hell is the matter with you three!" Catherine vented, "There was a PLANE! We could have been RESCUED!"
"We would have been murdered," Grissom replied almost calmly. He was the only one present who had ever faced the wrath of Catherine Willows.
"RESCUED! Greg needs a-" Catherine continued her tirade, but paused as Grissom's words sank in, "Murdered? What do you mean murdered?" she asked a little roughly.
"The people on that plane landed on the beach where we found 'bones'," Grissom continued, urgently, "We saw them. We watched them from the bushes. They killed a man. Shot him. We saw it."
"They don't know we're here," Nick hazarded, "If they did…"
"They'd kill us," Sara finished. Everyone paused and Catherine's face softened.
"Rescue?" Greg asked weakly from the raft. Grissom, Warrick, and Nick looked over in surprise.
"You're awake, Greggo!" Nick exclaimed happily, already moving to his friend's side.
"Hey, Greg! How are you feeling, man?" Warrick asked. Greg gave a little thumb's up.
"H-hungry," he answered.
"We'll whip you something right up, Greg," Grissom agreed, breaking into a grin. For one shinning moment, they forgot about the danger and the murder. Warrick and Nick fed Greg more water and Sara sat with them.
"So this is why you didn't get a pig?" she teased. Nick nodded.
"We were so close to getting one too!" he lied.
Grissom was helping Catherine mix Greg something to eat, mostly coconut milk with bits of berries and bananas mashed in. After he ate, Greg fell asleep early. Nick, Warrick, and Sara went for a bath while Catherine was taking care of Grissom.
"Why am I always mending your injuries?" she asked him wryly. He smiled.
"Because I'm always getting injured," he offered, causing her to smile as well.
"I'm going to have to keep an eye on you," she teased, "Now this is going to sting," she said, dipping a cotton ball into the iodine.
"OW! Ow! Ow!" Grissom protested as she pressed it to the cut on his forehead.
"Oh, ow, ow, ow! Come here, you big baby!" she ordered, gently blowing on his forehead as she had done when Lindsey scraped her knee riding her first bicycle. The stinging stopped and Gil noted this.
"Better?" she asked, looking him in the eyes.
"Much," he responded. The moment passed when Catherine looked away, slightly embarrassed.
"So, what did they kill him over?" Catherine asked him as she got a band-aid from the first-aid kit.
"They were trafficking…drugs, money, sex…I don't know. They lifted a bag of powder from him after he was dead," Gil explained.
"They have seclusion here," Catherine said, swallowing.
"They'll be back, Catherine," Gil said, catching her eye once more.
"Then we'll face it together, as always," she said sincerely.
"As always," he repeated, and he was a little surprised when she pecked him on the cheek.
TBC