Anyone there? Hello?
Well, if anyone is still interested in this story then I am VERY, VERY SORRY for not updating. I've had major stressful times, loads of homework and I'm a bit behind, so this has been written over a while. I hope this chapter is okay. I updated real quick before my mum turned off the internet so I hope there're no stupid mistakes.
Please review, it makes my world.
Chapter Thirty One # Hit The Floor #
She screamed silently in agony as the burning pain seared her gut and forced its way out of her throat and mouth.
Morgan moaned and wiped her mouth, flushing the vomit away down the toilet. She'd had nausea on and off for the last month or so. She took a few seconds to wait for it to pass and then stood up, walking out of the bathroom and into the break room.
"Morgan? You look kinda pale, are you okay?" Greg frowned in concern. Three painful months had passed since the trial. Three and a half painful months since the attack.
No one had quite been the same since.
"I'm fine." Morgan smiled weakly.
Greg hugged her impulsively, and she hugged him back a little. "Don't lie to me."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "I've just been feeling a little…iffy. I'm good."
"If you're sure." Greg nodded.
Ten minutes later while processing evidence a cup of peanut butter from a crime scene with Nick, Morgan gagged suddenly, running to the nearest bin and vomiting.
"Whoa! Morgan, you okay?" Nick frowned in concern, dropping the evidence onto the table to rush to Morgan. He put a hand softly on her back. "Bathroom?"
Morgan put a hand over her mouth and nodded, and Nick steered her across the hall. She burst through the door and Nick waited in concern outside.
A few minutes later she came out, looking a little paler than before.
"What happened?" Nick asked in concern.
Morgan shrugged, confused. "Peanut butter…"
Nick's frown deepened. "Hang on, I thought Catherine said that you were eating peanut butter out of the jar when you two met in LA. I'm supposed to be the one who gags at peanut butter."
"I…I don't know, I'm just…I just…" Morgan leaned against the wall, looking on the verge of tears. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I-"
"Hey, hey…" Nick put a hand on her arm. "There's gonna be a logical explanation."
Morgan took a deep breath, steadying herself and nodding. "Okay…"
"So have you been feeling ill for a while?"
"On and off…about a month…It comes and it goes…"
"Morgan…don't take this the wrong way, but, have you gained any weight recently?" Nick asked hesitantly.
Glaring but working with her friend, Morgan nodded slowly. "Two or three pounds, but I've just been eating a load of crisps, I can't seem to stop."
"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" Nick asked gently.
Morgan frowned. "No! I mean…it's not like… I haven't had…well, you know. Not since… And they gave me drugs in the hospital, to reduce the chances that…"
Nick nodded sympathetically. "I understand…but it would only reduce the chances, right?"
"Oh my god, this isn't happening…" Morgan moaned softly, feeling her abdomen.
"Hey, whatever happens, we're gonna be fine." Nick soothed.
Morgan nodded tearfully, hugging Nick tightly. "I don't know what to do."
"We'll do a test. We'll do three if it'll make you feel better."
CSIVCSIVCSIV
"…so now I don't know what to do." Morgan finished, looking up at Sara over the coffee cup. "I'm pregnant, there's a fifty per cent chance it's Greg's, a fifty per cent chance of it being… Now I don't know…should I get an abortion or raise the baby or-"
Sara put a hand on Morgan's. "What do you want to do?"
Morgan stopped. "Wh-what?"
"What do you want to do? As absolutely cheesy as it sounds, follow your instincts, Morgan. And you don't have to make a decision right away."
"But if I am…pregnant…then I'll be what… fourteen weeks?"
Sensing Morgan's growing hysteria, Sara grasped her friend's hands in two of her own. "Hey, Morgan… it's going to be okay."
Morgan's shaking head dropped down to the table, and when she spoke her voice was stronger. "I hate this…Feeling vulnerable…weak. Not knowing what to do."
Sara nodded. "I felt a similar thing…after the uh, the Natalie Davis incident. It drove me out of Vegas, Morgan. Don't let him get to you from behind bars. You're stronger than I was, Morgan. And you're stronger than this bastard."
Morgan grinned wryly. "Thanks."
"No problem." Morgan looked at the clock. "Uh Sara?"
"Yeah?"
"Weren't you supposed to pick Eli up at ten past three?"
"What's the time?" Sara asked instantly.
"Ten to four." The two women leapt off of their chairs and raced to the school. It was ten past four by the time they jogged into the school.
Eli stood up off his chair in the small waiting room, a tired, irritated expression on his face.
"Oh, god, Eli, I'm sorry." Sara began.
"It's no big deal." Eli huffed, shuffling his bag around on his back and heading straight for the door.
"Eli." Morgan put her hands on his shoulders, stopping him still. "It was my fault. I needed to talk to Sara, and I made her lose track of time."
Eli just rolled his eyes to the corner of his head. "Can we go now, please?"
"Sure." Sara nodded, feeling guilty.
It had been arranged beforehand that Morgan would eat at Sara and Grissom's, so she took shotgun in the car whilst Eli slid into the back.
"So what did you do in school today?" Sara asked, steering the car out of the parking lot.
"Stuff."
Sara glanced at Morgan and the two women rolled their eyes.
Eli stared out of the window all of the way home, before running into the house without a word.
"Sorry." Morgan grinned sheepishly and Sara returned the look.
"He'll get over it."
CSIVCSIVCSIV
Nick pulled up outside his house, running a couple of hands over his exhausted face as he did. He felt terrible for Morgan…more than terrible. It had also been two weeks since he'd spent the day with his daughter.
Nick unlocked the door and walked inside, uplifted at the delicious aroma of the recently returned Rosa's cooking. Kristy ran through the hall towards him in her pyjamas, the morning light streaming through the windows forming a halo around her head.
"Daddy!"
"Hey, peanut!" Nick laughed as she launched into his arms. "Hi Rosa."
"Your dinner/breakfast is ready, Nicky." Her melodic voice called from the kitchen.
"Daddy, will you spen' da day wib me today?" Kristy begged as he carried her into the kitchen.
NO I'M GOING TO SLEEP! The selfish part of Nick's brain screamed. "Sure thing, Kristy."
"Can we go to da swimmin' pool?"
"Sure." Nick nodded, stifling a yawn.
"Rosa, daddy said yes!" Kristy squealed in delight.
"¡Nicholas, te ves como un muerto viviente!" Rosa exclaimed.
"I know, I know." Nick murmured.
"¿Puedes va a la piscina?" Rosa asked. Can you go to the pool?
Kristy, understanding the gist of the conversation, looked up at her dad in worry. "Daddy? You too tired?"
Yes. "No, sweetie, no. I can take you to the pool." Nick nodded. "You comin' Rosa?"
"No, no." Rosa shook her head with a smile. "I have a lot to do here."
"Are you sure?" Nick asked. "Okay."
"Daddy, are you otay?" Kristy asked in concern.
"I'm fine Princess." Nick insisted, kissing the top of Kristy's head.
After scoffing down Rosa's delicious meal and grabbing all of Kristy's things, Nick got back in the car to drive to the pool.
As they entered the gym Nick downed a Red Bull.
Two hours later, Nick carried an excited Kristy out of the gym.
"Aw, Kristy!" Nick complained mildly as she shook her head like a dog and water sprayed in his face.
"Sorry daddy." She giggled. "Can we go get ice ceam?"
Nick considered for a moment. He hadn't treated her in three weeks. "Sure thing, Kristy."
"At the Tandias?"
"Okay, at the Tangiers." Nick agreed.
Shortly afterwards they entered the hotel and there were little girls everywhere in sparkly dresses and plastered with makeup.
"What the…" Nick's heart sank as he realised that he'd walked into the location of a child beauty pageant. "How about we go somewhere else?"
"No please Daddy!" she begged.
Unable to deny his daughter who he felt like he'd positively neglected for the past week, Nick nodded and sighed.
Once they got their ice cream, they started to walk around the room.
"Dese girls pretty." Kristy remarked, if a little wistfully.
"Not as pretty as you." Nick murmured to her with a big grin.
She smiled and held Nick's hand.
"Hang on to your ice cream, sweetie, that's it." Nick helped Kristy manoeuvre the ice cream cone to an easier position.
Just as Nick was wiping Kristy's hands with some napkins and water one of the girls started to scream. Instinctively Nick lifted Kristy onto his hip as the other children and some of the mothers also joined the terrified yells.
He walked towards the source of the screaming and looked at his stomach dropped. Kristy screamed and wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing.
"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay." Nick soothed as he took in the bloodied body of a woman with a crown on, impaled on what looked like a meat hook. It looked like something out of the Texas chainsaw massacre, not something you should see at a child's beauty pageant.
Noticing the swarming people Nick leaned over to Kristy.
"Close your eyes sweetie, close your eyes real tight." He whispered, before raising his voice. "Hey, excuse me, ladies and gentleman I'm a crime scene investiagto-"
"She's dead!" one of the women screeched, instigating a wave of screams and sobs.
"I can see that ma'am." Nick nodded. "I can see that, can everyone please just calm down and step back, that's it…"
Kristy shuffled, keeping her eyes tightly closed as her father pulled out his mobile phone and started to call in what had happened. She tightened her arms around her father's neck and kept her eyes closed until he said it was safe.
CSIVCSIVCSIV
"The victim was Mrs Marina Valentina, she was the director of the 'America's Little Angels' pageant up until fourteen hours ago when she was found murdered in the lobby of the Tangiers, the location of the pageant." DB told the Sherriff.
"And the guy Nick is about to interrogate is…?"
"Our best and currently only suspect – James O'Shea. His daughter Belle was lined up for the Ultimate Grand Supreme when she was kicked out of the pageant for some minor technicality. She's five. His prints were on the crown found on the victim, the same crown that was used to cut her throat, before she was shoved on a meat hook and displayed for all of the five to eighteen year old girls to see."
The Sherriff winced.
"And that's not all. James O'Shea is not his real name. He was born Elijah Roberts, and he is a convicted paedophile. A little plastic surgery here, a little wife and daughter there, and he's free to get into the pageant world. Apparently he's your 'ideal pageant dad'."
The Sherriff glanced at Russell's face. "From your tone I gather that you don't agree with child beauty pageants any more than I do?"
"No. I think that they teach little girls all the wrong morals, but it's not about my opinion." Russell sighed, nodding at the glass.
Nick sat down across from the man before him. "So, Mr O'Shea. Or should I call you Mr Roberts?"
The man shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I prefer O'Shea, if you don't mind. There's a bit more elegance to it. Why I changed."
"Oh, so it had nothing to do with the fact that you recently got out of a ten year sentence for possession of child pornography?"
Roberts shook his head with a smirk. "Not much."
"Okay Roberts. I can almost understand why a guy like you would be so fond of pageants. Little girls, prancing around in little outfits." Nick shook his head. "And when you and your daughter got kicked out, that would be why you got made enough to kill Marina Valentina."
"I didn't kill her." The man shook his head.
"We have your fingerprint on the murder weapon, Roberts."
"I didn't do it." Roberts leaned forward. "But you know, when I first saw you at the Tangiers…you had such an adorable little girl with you."
Nick instantly stiffened, but Roberts continued.
"She would be amazing in a pageant. A little make-up, all dressed up… I'm not kidding, Mr Stokes. Kristina would be just incredible. A little winner."
"This isn't about her." Nick couldn't help but clench his teeth. The bastard knew his daughters name…
"No but if you are going to waste my time I may as well take a moment of yours to tell you that she could be a star."
"Shut up." Nick said in a surprisingly level voice.
"He's getting to him…" DB murmured outside, getting ready to go in.
"Especially in the swimsuit category, how I would love to see her prancing around in a little bikini…"
Nick stood up and slammed his hands down on the table. "Shut up, about my daughter." His eyes dropped at the movement of Roberts' hands.
That bastard is getting off on the image of my three year old daughter, Nick realised, and a blind fury took over his mind.
"You killed Marina Valentina, and I have proof and you are never, ever going to see my daughter's face again." He growled.
"I didn't hear one ounce of truth in that statement."
"Nick." Russell interrupted, walking into the room. "I'll take it from here."
Nick nodded stiffly, storming out of the room. Within minutes he was in the lab's empty break-room. For a split second he panicked, before pausing and hearing the reassuring sound of his little girl's voice.
"…an' den da mash-in goes brrrrrrr?"
"Yep. Then this tells you exactly what is in and liquid."
"Licid?"
"It means something like water or juice or oil."
"Wet stuff?"
"Pretty much."
"Hey Henry, hey monster." Nick announced his presence with a grateful smile to the Toxicology tech.
"Heny expaned da gas chomatogapy math spectrometer to me." She nodded. "I un-erstand."
"Good. You ready to go home sweetie?"
Kristy held out her arms to her father.
"Buy Heny!" she called.
Nick fell into bed for a few hours when they got home, asking Rosa to wake him up in a few hours.
When she did, he got ready for work and went in to kiss Kristy goodnight.
He froze.
There was blood in her bed.
Her empty, empty bed.
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