AN: Hi! I'm back. Updates should be quite frequent on this and I hope you guys enjoy this. R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. If I did, there would be massive changes.
Summary: While processing a scene, the CSIs discover an entirely new case, a case that becomes more personal than any of them could ever have dreamed.
A Not So Routine Crime Scene
"That's gotta be a record," Jim Brass quipped, "Five minutes! Usually in takes you guys a lot longer than that to respond to a crime scene."
"Well, when I live a few blocks away from the scene, it doesn't take long to drive over," Gil Grissom replied as he crossed the yellow crime tape sectioning off half of the deserted parking lot. In the middle of the tape, a white male was lying on his back with eight stab wounds on his chest. Grissom and Brass surveyed the sight unflinchingly.
"Vic's name is Kendal Gates, AKA Kenny G. Coroner's en route," Brass informed Grissom, "Are you going to get another guy out here or is it just you and me?"
"I'll call Catherine. There's a lot of blood spatter out here," Grissom replied, flipping his cell phone on and pressing the speed dial for Catherine's number. Catherine Willows was the crime lab's top blood spatter analyst as well as an accomplished CSI. Of all the members of Grissom's nightshift team, Catherine was most qualified for this case. Grissom waited patiently for her to pick up.
"I need you on a 419 with me," he said, disregarding formalities as had become custom for the two over the years. He gave her the address.
"That's by your place," she replied, immediately recognizing how close the scene was to his home.
"Yeah," he sighed, "So much for it being a safe neighbourhood."
"Alright. See you there," Catherine said, clicking the phone off. Grissom replaced the phone in his pocket and opened his metal kit. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves, grabbed his camera, and then slowly approached the body. Knowing that he was not to touch the body until the coroner released it, he knelt closer so he could observe it, snapping multiple shots from many different angles.
"From the looks of it, he was trying to run from his attacker," Grissom informed Brass in between photos, "He has blood on his shoes. It might be his own," he continued, withdrawing his mini-light and shinning it on several bloody sneaker impressions.
"Well, if someone was chasing you with a knife, wouldn't you?" Brass asked.
"It's animal nature to run when being pursued," Grissom replied. Brass just shook his head as went to talk to the crowd of witnesses beginning to form. Grissom continued to document the scene for a while, slowly moving towards the alley, following the bloody footprints.
"I can see why you wanted me out here," a familiar voice called to him, "That's a lot of blood."
"All most too much," Grissom replied, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Maybe the Vic got a couple of hits in," Catherine suggested, joining him at the entrance to the alley.
"That's quite a blood pool, though," Grissom pointed out, gesturing to the shiny red pool next to the dumpster.
"We'll have to tell Brass to check out the hospitals for a stabbing injury," she suggested, moving closer to inspect what looked to be spatter on the edge of the dumpster.
"No, no, Man! That's my brother!" Grissom and Catherine suddenly heard a young man in his twenties cry out.
"Easy, there, Mr. Gates," Brass tried to consol the weeping brother of Kendal Gates.
"Don't you think I don't know who did this!" the man cried.
"Alright, sir, we'll just go down to the station and you can tell us," Brass tried.
"It was them!" the man screamed, pointing to a group of men, all wearing black, "I'll Fucking KILL them!" he yelled out, running forward breaking away from Brass and pulling a gun on the gang at the other end of the tape. Several people screamed and ducked.
As soon as he heard the first shot, Grissom's instincts kicked in. He pinned Catherine against the dumpster, shielding her from any stray bullets. They waited like this as shots between the gangs and the police rang through the night. Finally, there was silence.
"What the Hell was that?" Catherine breathed, looking over Grissom's shoulder to where she had a perfect view of the chaos that had just enveloped their crime scene. Brass and several uniforms had managed to subdue the shooters, but there were at least three more people on the ground, Kendal Gate's brother included.
"Chaos," Grissom answered shakily, but his voice was drowned out by the most unusual sound that could possibly be heard at a crime scene like this: a baby's wail.
"What the-" Catherine started, locking eyes with Grissom as they realized that the cries were coming from within the dumpster. They broke away from each other and moved around to open it, careful to avoid the blood pools. Grissom pushed the metal lid up and the sight of a small boy amidst the waste met him and Catherine.
"Oh my God," Catherine breathed.
"Hold this," Grissom requested, gesturing to the lid. Catherine did and watched as he lifted himself up, over the ledge, and onto the piles of trash. He picked up the sobbing child with a stunned look on his face. The boy immediately quieted upon being held. He looked no older than four. He looked dazed at Gil and Catherine as they stared incredulously at him.
"I hope you two aren't fighting again. Tell me she didn't throw you in the dumpster, Gil," Brass quipped from behind them, not seeing the small child in Grissom's arms. Gil and Catherine had a rather rocky friendship as of late. It wasn't uncommon for them to completely ignore each other, or worse, get into heated arguments from anything from casework to lab integrity.
Catherine and Grissom both turned to look at the detective, giving Brass a full view of the child in Grissom's arms. They looked like deer in headlights.
"I leave you two alone for five minutes and you have a kid?" Brass gaped at them incredulously.