Title: Code Black
Fandom: CSI: New York
Characters: Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe, Sid Hammerback, OMCs, OFCs.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: T
Warning: Mature language, mild gore.
Disclaimer: "Code Black" is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Author's Notes: It's late. And short. I know. I've started another casefile, and so that's also been consuming time, as well as the thing people call "reel lyphe." Whatever that is.
Acknowledgements: Thanks for the beta, Sugah.
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10:24 P.M.
Lindsay Monroe sat slumped against the locked doors leading into the refrigerator. Elbows drawn close between her chest and knees, she rested her forehead in the palms of her hands and closed her eyes, fighting the force pulling her into a sleepy state. Extensive analysis and testing of the garbage the victim had been picking through when he died had been tiring, as had been leaning over her workbench, cataloguing and entering every used napkin, Starbucks coffee cup, and empty chip bag into evidence lock-up.
She wished to be at home, reheating a plate of the lasagne she had made the previous night and lounging on the couch, instead of sitting on the cold floor, listening to slamming cabinets as Hammerback scoured the shelves, or Danny's unrelenting pacing.
The wall phone had rung about half a dozen times in the hour since Hammerback reported the Polaris Fever infection that Stephan Shrute, the victim in her case with Danny, had more or less died from. Calls from Mac and representatives from the CDC - who were snowed in at their New Jersey location - had been frequent for updates on the small group's condition. The only thing plaguing Lindsay was the grip of fatigue and her grumbling stomach.
Her head shot up upon the resonance of a deep, masculine cough caught deep in Danny's throat. He struggled through the rough exhalation, his hand suppressing most of the noise. The coughing ceased, and he muttered a gruff, "Lovely."
"Bloody mucus?" Hammerback asked.
"Yeah. That a symptom, or something?"
The doctor gave a dour nod. "I'm afraid so."
Lindsay inhaled heavily and released the air in a sharp breath, allowing her head to fall back in her hands. I don't need this now, she thought.
"What exactly is this…thing?" Danny asked as he reached for a Kleenex.
"It's an intense infection similar to Viral Hemorrhagic Fever and its counterparts," Hammerback explained, "though this one is much more potent and is reduced into a shorter incubation period. Similar viruses like Hantavirus have five phases of symptoms: febrile, hypotensive, oliguric, diuretic, and convalescent. Polaris has similar stages; however they're condensed into a six-to-ten hour period of time, which is why it's extremely dangerous."
"You said the symptoms were similar to the flu?"
"They are. Headache, fever and chills, aches," he listed. "Bruising occurs in the third stage, and by the end, your system begins to shut down. Difficulty breathing, tachycardia, and ultimately, cardiac arrest. But enough about that. Let's prep for autopsy."
Lindsay had found a spot on the floor and allowed it to consume her sight. Only when she had quelled enough energy did she rise to join the men in preparation for the autopsy of Stephan Shrute.
Once the body had been transferred to the autopsy table, the trio retreated to the suite's closed off anteroom and pulled surgical gowns and caps over their clothes, each grabbing masks and fresh gloves from the boxes stacked on a metal shelf. It was almost instinctive, their motions, as they covered themselves with protective garb. Protection from what? Lindsay wondered, and re-entered the room where the body lay in wait for further dissection.
She assumed a position beside Danny, opposite of the table from Hammerback, who couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he picked up a clean scalpel and brought it close to flesh - the same skin that had showered him and the detectives with an eruption of blood. But this time, as he sliced the body open, 10-blade cutting through skin, there were no bursts of liquid.
The scalpel returned to its spot on the tray and Hammerback went to work, peeling back the flaps of skin to expose the interior anatomy of the victim.
Lindsay watched as he began to uncover Shrute's secrets. First, he removed the rib plate, hacking through bone with large pruning shears. Once his only obstruction was gone, the Medical Examiner's hands disappeared in the chest cavity, pulling out organs. He removed the stomach and lungs, examining each behind framed eyes before placing each in a container.
Hammerback cleared his throat rather loudly and assumed his task of removing the heart.
"You alright, Sid?" Danny asked.
"Peachy." The scalpel returned to his hand and he began cutting, making incisions.
He completed his examination of the victim's heart with the detectives watching, waiting for substantiation. The right ventricle showed indisputable evidence of respiratory arrest, the last stage of the disease.
"It's definitely Polaris," Hammerback said, placing the heart in a container. "I'll call the CDC for confirmation and ask about their ETA before we move on to the brain." He crossed the room to the phone, stripping off his soiled gloves, and reached for the phone.
While Hammerback talked, Lindsay moved around the table and picked up the basin containing the heart. "Hammerback," she called in a low voice, holding up the dish. Like a mother catching up with a friend over the phone, he turned and looked over, half-heartedly distracted by the voice on the line, nodding to permit the actions she mouthed.
Danny followed her over to the stationary desk where a microscope was ready to be used. With accurate precision, she shaved off a sample of tissue and prepared a wet mount, squeezing two drops of sterile water and dropping a clear piece of plastic on the slide at an acute angle.
The light beneath the microscope's stage glowed brightly through the lens as she secured the slide in place and looked through the scope. "Something is definitely here." She examined the sample and proceeded to step aside, allowing her partner a view of the disease that could very much have been multiplying and attaching themselves to her own cells.
With his glasses resting on his forehead, Danny stared into the microscope and saw the damage through his own eyes. Bright cells marred with ebony dots of the disease consumed his vision and stuck in his mind as a cough rose in his throat.
It's going to be a long night.
TBC