Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Also, you can expect an update on New Beginnings tonight or tomorrow as well. :) Sorry for the delay, I've been distracted.
Speaking of, has anyone seen Kiss the Sky with William Petersen? I just watched it today, and it's like... I dunno. I keep thinking about it. It was... good, though. :)
Thanks for the reviews!
Chapter 24: Comfort Seeking
I was proud of myself.
I mean, I'd talked about Ken before—I'd told my story to lots of girls, when the occasion called for it, at the Rape Crisis Center I'd volunteered at in San Francisco. I'd told Melanie, and the counselor I saw for that brief amount of time. But… I knew it would be harder to talk about with Grissom.
I had thought it would be impossible to even mention anything beyond his name—which was all Grissom had ever heard, even when we were intimate.
But I had talked about the sex that had been the precursor to the event without getting emotional, or breaking down, despite the understand I saw in his eyes. He knew that I hadn't told him everything… that I was still hiding something… but I had done it.
I felt amazingly empowered, and giddy to the point of silliness. When I found handprints on the ceiling of the bathroom, I muttered "…Handprints. …Stallion." And then had to fight back laughing out loud, because then Grissom would come ask me and… Yeah, we didn't need to have another sex-on-a-plane related conversation. …Despite the fact that I knew, I just knew, that he had joined the Mile High Club as well. Applied Psychodynamics in Forensic Science, my ass.
I was equally giddy when we reenacted the scene, trying to determine how the victim's encephalitis—swelling of the brain—had impacted his actions and the actions of the passengers around him. He'd been out of his mind, and the people around him had panicked. So when Grissom gave me Shannon and Warrick commented with a slight innuendo in his voice that I was 'The stewardess,' I grinned and saucily replied, "Excuse me—It's 'Flight Attendant.'" I smirked when Catherine teased Grissom for his lack of imagination when he made her a single mom, and had to literally fight back laughter when he made Nick and Warrick a married couple and inquired who was going to wear the pants.
"CSI 3—Seniority, sweetie." Nick said, taking the card with the husband's name. Warrick reluctantly took the wife's card, grumbling.
"Yeah, whatever. …You're henpecked anyway."
I smirked at their bantering and turned to Grissom. "Let me guess—You're the computer geek."
"In the interest of clarity—yes. Nate in 2C." He sits down in the broken seat, it falls, Warrick laughs, and Grissom glares. I had to fight back giggles—everything was just so funny when you felt this good.
Grissom lectured us on hurrying—sunrise was in ten minutes, and apparently we were vampires… I mean, did he really expect the FAA to be here as soon as the sun cleared the horizon?—and we began our reenactment. It was playful at first, Nick and Warrick dropping endearments right and left and Brass emphasizing his character's drunkenness… but by the time they were kicking the dummy on the ground, I'd realized something.
"Hey, guys… If you jump a guy at the exit, he dies at the exit."
He had tried to get away, and the people had chased him down instead. It wasn't to save themselves—he was no longer trying to open the door—they'd let mob mentality take over. …They were all murderers. We walked out of the plane, sadder than we'd been before, the realization that normal people had been pushed to commit a horrible act far more troubling than the idea of one bad apple losing it and taking out Tony Candlewell—a man with a family, who'd just been sick. I couldn't imagine how those passengers had let themselves go so far, despite how our victim had been behaving.
Grissom tried to get the Sheriff to convict five of the passengers, but because we couldn't prove it beyond a reasonable doubt right then, he let them go. He said the feds could pursue it further if they wanted to. We went back to the lab, and while everyone else went to collect their things, Nick and I went right to the break room and turned on the news. As expected, they were already talking about our case—all the passengers we'd interrogated were being bused to their hotels, off to drink and gamble and sit by the poolside to relax. And half of them were murderers.
Warrick came in a moment later, taking the remote from me and turning the television off.
"Hey!" I cried, Nick's "Woah!" concurring with me.
"Let it go, guys."
My temper flared immediately. "Those people should be going to jail… not to some hotel on the Strip." I said with contempt. I might not mind living in Vegas, but I hated the Strip and everything it represented. I wasn't like Grissom—I didn't even like the lights.
"It's out of our hands. Our field ruling was overturned by the good old Sheriff and the feds."
"And you're okay with that?!" came Nick's incredulous reply. I realized, in that moment, just how much I liked Nick. We agreed far more often than we ought to, considering how different our backgrounds were. "We processed evidence for twelve hours, laid out the whole case, and now those passengers are just going to suck martinis and eat shrimp cocktails? Where's the justice?"
I nodded, remembering that Nick wasn't from Vegas either. He spoke about the Strip the same way I did. Warrick, however, scoffed.
"You think this is about justice?"
I bristled and Nick made a face. "Yeah—What else?"
Warrick sighed. "It's about human nature—How people react when their lives are threatened."
I scowl—pulling Tony from the door was reacting to being threatened. Kicking him to death was not. "…I know you're not condoning what they did." I challenge, and his eyebrows raise.
"I'm not…discounting it. I mean, think about it. Is there any place you're more vulnerable than being at 30,000 feet in a tin can?"
I grit my teeth. I could think of a lot of places I had felt more vulnerable in my life, yet I had not killed Ken Fuller, or the foster dad who bit me, or either of my parents. …I chose to disregard what my mother had done, when she finally felt too vulnerable to endure. Even if I didn't think she should be in jail for it, that didn't mean I'd forgiven her for it.
"Feeling 'vulnerable' is a not a defense and where they were is irrelevant. …They took a life." I said, as if that should end it. Because it should—if nothing else in this world was holy, life still ought to be.
"Because their lives were threatened." Warrick responded, his voice rising just a little.
"Their lives were threatened when Candlewell was at the emergency exit, trying to open it," Nick clarified. "But the five feet between the exit and the aisles is what made the difference between self-defense and murder." Again, have I mentioned that I love Nick? I love him.
"Human nature again." Warrick said, calmer now. "I mean—adrenaline doesn't come with an off switch."
Adrenaline wasn't any more of an excuse than feeling vulnerable. "I don't care what you say. I could never take a life."
"If it was between him or me, I could. Nick?" Catherine and Grissom came into the room as he finished his statement while I rolled my eyes, frowning. Who could say that so easily?
Nick just shook his head and sat back in his chair, backing down. "I don't know." …Have I mentioned that I hate Nick? I hate him.
"Well… it's wicked serious in here." Catherine said, her eyebrows raised. I knew that I shouldn't rise to her, but I couldn't help it. My temper was barely contained beneath the surface and I had to let out just a little, or I'd explode.
"Yeah, well, we were just talking about murder and whether we'd commit it. I couldn't, Warrick could, and Nick's on the fence." I said bitingly, glancing at him. "We're taking an exit poll."
Nick spoke up, perhaps in response to my glare. "Catherine—you're a mother. You and Lindsey are on that plane… How far do you go?"
"All the way."
I started. "You didn't even hesitate."
"That's right. If it comes to the protection of my child, I fight to the death."
I looked away, wondering what Kelly would say if asked that question about Joey. Surely she wouldn't agree…
"See?" Warrick said, eager to prove his point against my scorn. "We have four people here, all with different opinions. Think of what the passengers must have felt."
I had lost my ally in Nick. I turned to Grissom instead, thinking that he had wanted to convict them of murder as much as I had. "…What do you think, Grissom?"
He shook his head slightly. "I can't answer that question."
Catherine jumped on him. "That's a cop-out. It's a simple question. What would you have done if you had been one of those passengers?"
"It's not about that," he said, looking around and chastening each of us with his gaze. "You all have different opinions, but you've all taken the same point of view. You've put yourself in the shoes of the passengers, but nobody's put themselves in the shoes of the victim. …That's the point."
I frowned, uncertain. That didn't really answer whether they ought to be punished or not… if their actions were justified or not. "I'm sorry. What are you saying?"
"Nobody stopped to ask Candlewell if he was alright. They just assumed, because he was kicking the back of Nate's seat, that he was a jerk—because he was pushing his call button, he was bothering the flight attendant—because he was trying to get into the lavatory , he was a scene—because he was going back and forth up the aisles, he was posing a threat."
"He was a threat," Catherine countered, clearly in disagreement with whatever point Grissom was taking forever to make.
"No. He turned into a threat. It didn't have to be that way. People make assumptions…that's the problem. You just did. And I think these passengers made the wrong assumption and now this guy's dead."
Warrick wasn't done. "Well—if that's your stance, how could this have been prevented?"
"If just one person had stopped and taken the time to look at the guy—to listen to him—to figure out what was wrong with him… it might not have happened." He paused, glancing between us. "It took five people to kill him. It would have only taken one person to save his life."
He looked between us, but I kept my gaze locked on him. I fell in love with him, all over again, in that moment.
I went home that day, looking around my apartment, feeling exceedingly alone. I glanced at the clock, and figured I could catch Kelly before she went to work. She might be busy getting ready but I knew she'd understand.
"…Hello?"
"Hey Eric. Sorry to call so early—Is Kelly around?"
I heard a muffled noise, and then he said my name, obviously telling Kelly who was on the phone.
"Yeah, she just got out of the shower. She says she'll be over in a minute. …How've you been?"
I smiled, flopping down on the couch. Eric wasn't very social either. "Pretty good… What about you? How's work?"
"Same old." He said, revealing as little as I had. "Kelly's got some pictures of Joey here she's been meaning to send you."
"Aww—I bet he's huge."
Eric chuckled. "Growing like a weed. Seems to think he can ride Puckett like a horse."
I smiled, thinking of the tolerant Golden Retriever. "What does Puckett think of that?"
Eric laughed again. "He just groans and sits down, so Joe slides off the back of him. It worked the first couple times… he'd cry and go play somewhere else… but he's gotten tougher, now."
I laughed, and then there's another muffled sound and Kelly's voice comes over the line.
"Sara?"
"Hey Kel'." I say, biting my bottom lip.
"Are you alright?"
I smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry to call so early… I figured you might have a minute or so before work."
"I actually have the day off—administrative in-service. …What's up?" She asked, knowing me too well to not see through me.
"Well… Okay, I just got home from work, and we had this case… Can I get your… opinion on something?"
"Yeah… Go ahead."
"Okay," I sighed, going back over the case in my head. "So this guy was killed on a plane. He had enceph—swelling of the brain… it made him act very erratic. He was sweating, kicking the back of this guy's seat uncontrollably… he had a headache, started pacing… banged on the restroom door."
"…Okay…"
"Well, everyone around him was upset—thinking that he was being disruptive on purpose. They fought with him, and he ran to the exit door, attempting to open it."
"Oh my god." She said, knowing as well as I did that that would mean certain death for everyone on the plane.
"I know…" I said, frowning, because I didn't want her to take the same stance at Catherine. "So they go get him away from the door, and he's trying to get away, heading back towards coach… and they jump him. …Five people kicked him to death."
"Oh god." She repeats, and I remember with a stab of guilt how unaccustomed she is to hearing about my job.
"So… I was talking about this, with my coworkers. And… I was the only one who would say, unequivocally, that I could never do that."
I could hear her frowning through the phone. "You could never kick somebody to death? And… your coworkers thought they could?"
"Yes. Well, no. They… It was in abstract terms. Warrick was saying that you can't turn off adrenaline—after they pulled him from the door, they'd already chosen 'fight' in their fight or flight reflex. They couldn't stop. And I said that I could never take a life, period. Adrenaline or no, Vulnerability or no. And then… Okay, so Warrick said if it was between him or someone else, of course he could. Nick said he didn't know, and Catherine… Nick posed it to her as having been on the plane with her daughter…"
She clucked her tongue. "You're wondering if motherhood had robbed me of my humanity?"
I didn't know whether to frown or laugh. Kelly knew me so well. "I just… I want to believe that protecting your child doesn't translate into killing some other little kid's dad to death, just because of biology. I want to believe that a really good person who is honestly only interested in protecting their kid could… overrule adrenaline. I want to believe in higher intelligence and all of our choices not simply being the reaction of hormones to stimuli."
Kelly laughed. "Sara, hon… Everyone wants to believe that."
I sigh. "Okay. Thanks Kel'."
She laughs again. "No, okay. I… really, Sara, I would like to believe that I would know when to stop as well. I would like to believe that I would ask as an individual, even in a mob."
I bit my bottom lip. "Okay… I'm sorry I bothered you for this so early."
"Don't be. I've got some time—why don't we catch up? I was planning to call you later anyway, once I thought you'd be awake."
I chuckled. "I'm always awake. …How's Joey? Eric told me you've got some pictures for me?"
"Oh!" She said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "I told you, the last time we talked, that Eric's parents had come for Thanksgiving? So they insisted we take him out to the pumpkin patch, even though all the pumpkins were gone because, hello, Halloween was a month ago… But the pictures turned out great. Lots of Joey in overalls climbing on hay stacks and giving Scarecrows funny looks."
I laughed, wishing I could see them now. "Aww. That sounds so sweet. Speaking of, you promised me Halloween pictures like, hello, a month ago…" I said, teasing her. Joey had been dressed as a lion and with his bright blonde hair, I just knew he'd been adorable.
She laughed. "Yeah, yeah, you tell me you could do any better if you were babysitting two little boys all day."
I heard a distant "Hey!" from the background as Eric obviously didn't approve of her statement, and we both giggled. Kelly cleared her throat.
"What about you? Anything huge going on?"
I shrugged. "No, not really. I've just been… Oh! Oh, wait! I didn't tell you!"
She laughed. "What didn't you tell me, Sara?"
"I saw Michael!"
She gasped. "Malone? Like, old Michael, from Boston Michael?"
I laughed. "Yes, that one. …The only one we know."
"You, what, saw him in Vegas?"
"Yeah. He and Dan were on some sort of bachelor's adventure…"
"Oh my god! When?!"
I chuckled. "I dunno… like a week ago."
I can practically see her eyes bugging out of her head. "Sara! How did you not tell me this?! Okay, you need to tell me everything…"
I laughed and launched into how letting Paul Millander slip through our fingers for the second time had led Grissom and I to run into each other by the fountains, and how I'd run into Michael and the subsequent dinner, fighting with Grissom, Breakfast, fighting with Grissom, and ending with Michael telling me he'd be in Vegas over the summer. As soon as I finished, she was speaking.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Sara…"
I frowned. "What? Why?"
I could hear her hesitating, choosing her words carefully. "It's just that… You and Gil are… in a strange situation, right now. You're working together, you're in love with each other, but you're not together, and you're unwilling to let anyone you work with know about your past. …I just think that… that you tend to seek comfort in familiarity, and with Michael there all summer…"
"What do you mean, I 'seek comfort in familiarity'?"
She sighed. "Can I be candid without you hanging up on me?"
I frowned. "Of course."
"Okay… Tyler broke your heart, but just him saying that he'd take you back and not get upset about Harvard—not him telling you that he was wrong, or sorry, or a complete sexist pig—was enough for you to want him back and to sleep with him. …After Spring Break in '93… you ran right back into Michael's arms, despite the fact that you broke up with him for a reason, and then you picked a school to run away to that was near enough your home town that you would feel comfortable. You and Gil break up, but you keep having sex with him via instant messaging. And then—"
"Okay, okay. I get it. Apparently I drown my sorrows in sex. Thanks for that."
She laughed, probably just relieved that I wasn't mad at her. "I'm just saying… be careful, Sar'."
