FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination
| FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination |
|
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Disclaimer: The characters of CSI are the property of CBS Broadcasting Inc and Alliance-Atlantis Communications. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning: Swearing, b Male/Male love /b in later chapters!! Not for you, then leave!
Jodine16: I woke up this morning with this idea. Obviously it’s not original, but hey, who cares? Lol, enjoy!
Chapitre un
‘This is just bloody fantastic,’ Greg thought darkly. ‘I get called in on my day off —a day off I totally deserved, mind you— to work a hit and run. The truck that’s part of the hit and run gets stolen, right under our noses. And guess who was in the back, swabbing blood from the floor? Me. That’s right, me. God, could me day get any more fucking worse?!‘ He clung on to the side, trying to keep himself hidden from view of the thief. Greg had been looking the truck over and spotted blood in the box of the truck. He had just pulled a swab out when shots were fired and the truck suddenly came to life and drove off, almost hitting several onlookers.
Greg vaguely heard the sound of music and realized his cell was going off. He slowly pulled it out, keeping one eye on the driver. Glancing down, he saw it was Sara.
“Sara, I hope you know I’m going to rip Grissom a new one as soon as this idiot stops,” he hissed, keeping his voice low as to not attract the thief’s attention, when he answered.
“Oh thank god, I thought you were—” Greg didn’t hear the rest of what she had said because the man driving the stolen truck spotted him and started shooting at him.
“Gotta go!” Greg hung up and spent the next five longest minutes of his life dodging wild bullets and trying to keep his balance.
Blue and red flashing lights ahead of them caught his attention and Greg distinctly saw what appeared to be a spike belt laid out across the road. Thankfully (or was it unfortunately?), the thief had most of his attention on Greg and didn’t realize the belt was there until he ran over it. The sudden jerk of the truck going one way sent Greg the other way and out of the box of the truck. He landed head first into the pavement and rolled a few times before coming to a stop. The last thing he heard was officers yelling at the thief to get out of the truck.
“Gotta Go!” Sara’s eyes widened when she heard the sounds of gunshots and the call was abruptly cut short. Detective Vartann looked in her direction when he heard the sounds, while he was talking on his phone.
“We need to get that truck now, Greg was still in there when the perp came back,” she said urgently.
Vartann took another moment to listen to whoever was on the other end, before making an affirmative noise and hanging up. “That was Officer Mitchell, he and several other officers have gone ahead and setup spike belts to stop this guy.” Sara nodded.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes had gone by before a call came back saying they got the truck, but they had to take Greg to the hospital. Sara wanted to go, but she had to finish processing the scene. “Can you call Grissom and inform him of what happened?” She asked Vartann.
“Sure.”
Nick’s mind was still trying to catch up with what the doctor was telling Grissom. After Greg’s unintentional joyride, he was rushed to the hospital, where he subjected to an MRI and a CAT scan. Both confirmed he had severe head trauma from his fall. He brain was slightly swollen and his skull had tiny fractures. He quickly came to reality when the doctor said something about a coma. “He’s in a coma?”
“With his brain injury, it was expected,” the doctor replied.
“What kind of problems can he possibly have?” Grissom asked.
“Until I have more tests run, I’m not sure,” The doctor said. “I have him under 24 hour surveillance until he wakes up.”
“Which is when?” Grissom questioned.
“A few days, weeks, I’m not really sure, Dr. Grissom,” the man said.
Grissom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, call me if his condition changes.”
The doctor nodded. “Will do.” Nick turned to Grissom when the doctor left.
“So, what now we wait?”
“It’s all we can do, Nick. Visit, wait, and pray for a miracle.”
Greg groaned, cracking his eyes open. He blinked them a few times trying to get used to the bright light. He looked around and saw the walls were white and there were wires attached to his head. He blinked when he saw large bouquets of flowers and a stack of cards on the side table. He sat up slowly and glanced at the doorway when he saw someone come in. “Oh, Mr. Sanders, you’re awake!” The woman exclaimed. She hurried out and returned a minute later with a man in a white coat and two other men, looked worn out, like they hadn’t gotten any sleep.
“Greggo! Thank god, you’re awake!” One of them with a Southern accent said in delight. Greg watched in confusion as the doctor looked him over and started asking him questions.
“Mr. Sanders’, how do you feel?”
“My head hurts and my ribs feel a bit sore.”
The doctor started looking over his vitals and frowned when he noticed Greg’s silence. “Mr. Sanders is there anything you want to ask me?”
“Um, yeah, where am I and who are they? They don’t look like doctors or nurses.”