I do not own CSI or their characters.
Rated T or M - depending on your views of profanity and adult themes.
I am making up for holding out on your for so long, huh!
Here is yet ANOTHER chapter.
I just couldn't leave you hanging...
What is Warrick going to do with this drunken Trista?
Read on to find out and keep reviewing...how hard is it?
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As Warrick drove, he let the music play softly. He didn't want to keep it loud because he was sure her head had to be splitting. She drank a lot; he knew she did. She drank so much he wondered if she would be okay. He thought back to his sister's house and decided he did not see her eat anything. He wondered if maybe she did and he just didn't see it.
He stopped at a red light and continued to ponder the thought of how much alcohol she consumed and if her stomach was empty or not. It mattered to him because he was trying to decide if she was bad enough to get her to the emergency room or if he should just force her to eat or at least drink gallons of water to flush her system. As he waited for the light to turn green, he looked down at his white shirt. He looked closer. And, with the light from the street lamp peering inside his truck, he saw two large blood stains. His eyes opened wide and he jerked his head back in shock.
"I'm fuckin' bleedin'? How can I be bleedin'? I didn't…" he gasped and whipped his head toward Trista.
He hadn't thought that maybe that jerk off DID hurt her. He reached up and clicked his interior light. Once the inside was illuminated he could see her knees…they were torn apart and blood had leaked all the way down the front of her shins dripping onto her ankles. He thought he might even see glass fragments embedded in her wounds.
"Ohhh Trist, oh God, baby, what have you done to yourself?" he whispered; he almost wanted to cry.
She was a mess.
"I can't take you back to my sister's like this, you know that, right?" he said knowing she couldn't answer him. "She takes one look at you, blood all down your legs…oh no, uh-uh….you'll have her in tears with her hormones going crazy… she will not be thinking' like herself…no way…Nick's already got his hands full with her tonight."
Warrick drove on but, remembering he had thrown Trista's keys in her purse, he quickly turned right and headed to Trista's house instead of making the left toward Nick and Jules'. As he made his way through the side streets, Warrick grabbed his cell phone and called his sister. The phone rang a only twice before Jules picked it up sounding out of breath.
"WARRRICK?" she said anxiously, "DID YOU FIND HER?"
"Yes, Baby Girl, I got her," he sighed.
"IS SHE OKAY? OH MY GOD!" she said with her voice cracking, "HE FOUND HER!" she yelled. "MY GOD, WARRICK, IT TOOK YOU FOREVER, I'VE BEEN CALLING YOU!"
"Sorry, I left my phone in the truck…but no worries, I got her…she got herself into a little bit of tr…" he stopped short realizing he shouldn't tell her that.
"WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY? LET ME TALK TO HER, WARRICK, WHY ISN'T SHE ON THE PHONE? IS SHE OKAY? REALLY? TELL ME! I PROMISE I WON'T GET UPSET!"
Warrick made a face on the other end of the phone as if to say "yeah, right, like I believe that one!" but he didn't have to even answer her because he heard Nick yell in the background.
"CALM DOWN NOW! Give me that phone!"
"NO, stop it, Nick!" she argued.
"Hey, hey, don't you two start fighting over this, Baby Girl…I got her…she's fine. So RELAX!" he told her agreeing with Nick.
"Okay, all right," she breathed deep and then slowly and calmly added, "Let me talk to her."
"Not gonna happen tonight," he said.
"WHY? She is NOT okay is she? What is wrong with her…is she sick? Is she hurt? Why did she leave here? Did you ask her? NICK! STOP IT!" she gave in to her panic and yelled.
Warrick immediately heard her fighting with Nick for the phone.
Soon, he heard Nick's voice.
"Rick, ya got her? What happened?" he asked concerned.
"Can't tell you now…I got her and I ain't bringing her to Captain Hormones, over there, I can tell you that right now," Warrick sighed knowing the blood covered legs of her inebriated best friend would have Jules in tears.
"Scale?" Nick said knowing Warrick would know he was asking how bad a shape was Trista in.
"Oh, well, uhhh, at least she's safe…but she's a ten in the drunk department, Bro. Tell my sister she is fine and I'm taking her back to her house since it's closer."
"NICK! Please let me talk to my brother! Please, I want to talk to him!"
Warrick could hear his sister still panicking and, truthfully, he couldn't blame her after what he witnessed tonight. She obviously knew something was wrong…Warrick knew how close she was with Trista, and he figured she could probably feel it.
He heard Nick talking to her.
"You'll be calm?"
"Yes, I will, I will…" she said to Nick before getting the phone back, "Warrick?" Jules said pretending to be calm again.
"Yesssss, Baby Girl," he answered.
"So Trista is fine, you promise?"
"Stop, she's fine. I am taking her home though…" he cringed.
"WHY? Warrick PLEASE TELL ME THE TRUTH! You're really scaring me…OH NO! Did she get into a fight? Is she beat up? OH GOD…DID SOMEONE…" she gasped at the thought of her being raped or abused.
Jules couldn't help the panic she felt…she knew it wasn't just her hormones…there was something wrong with her best friend and she felt it deep in her bones.
"No, Baby Girl, she is good but…," Warrick thought of an excuse fast, "I gotta tell you the truth…she is pretty drunk and I am afraid she will puke in my truck soooo I am going to just take her home because it is closer…I am gonna make her eat a little something, throw her in bed, and bring her to your house in the morning," he said knowing it wasn't all that far from the truth. "She is fine, okay. Fine…You know I'll take care of the pain in the ass."
Warrick knew he needed to play it off…if he was too consoling to Trista, Jules would know he was actually worried.
"Oh, okay…"she sighed, relieved he was calling her names which it meant it couldn't be something all that horrible.
"Bye , Baby Girl," he told her and hung up before she could press him for any more details.
Jules hung up the phone and pressed it to her bottom lip in deep thought. She could feel the glare and she looked over. Nick was staring at her with disapproval.
"WHAT?" she asked defensively.
"You get yourself so friggen worked up it is unbelievable….not to mention not healthy for you or the babies!" he lectured.
"Nick, don't start with me, please…you just don't understand…go drink your beer, feel all bad ass, and get off my back," she said and put the phone back on the charger.
Nick sighed. He was pissed. True, the alcohol had a lot to do with his tolerance level being lowered but he worried about her. And the alcohol made him worry about her even more.
"Look, Babe, you don't realize how worked up you're…" he began but Jules cut him off.
"How much I GET worked up? Look at you! If I fucking burp and you run and ask me if I'm okay…if I sit down you act like I have fucking preeclampsia for God's sake! You're an annoying, pain in my ass!" she flung a dishtowel over toward the sink.
Nick rolled his eyes. "I do not do that!"
"Yeah, okay, Stokes…you're right…you're always right!" she yelled.
"I am not always right…I just don't like seeing you get so scared about Trista!" he said loudly.
"Um, hello? Did you not see how drunk she was? Did YOU not take a bottle of Tequila out of her hand? Wasn't it YOU who said she was drowning in it? Did she not take a fucking cab to a bar and then go missing for a couple hours? Oh, I'm sorry, but I have a right to be concerned if my friend is dead in a gutter…or raped in an alley!" she yelled having no idea how accurate she almost was.
"Stop worrying about everyone else!" Nick insisted not backing down.
"Take your own advice…and stop worrying about ME!"
"HAA! That will never happen, Sunshine," he said with an attitude.
"Whatever, Superman…do what you want but don't tell me how to act or feel…" she said quietly and walked out of the kitchen and went into the bathroom.
Nick threw his arms up in the air and stormed into the backyard to get himself another beer.