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Hey all, I'm new to joining this community but not to lurking here ^^ I thought that since I claimed Hodges over at fanfic100 I should make friends at his fan club ^^ As a gift, I bring my first posted CSI story, which also happens to be my first prompt.
Title: Who?
Fandom: CSI
Characters: David Hodges
Prompt: Who?
Word Count: 1990
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Spoilers for PwF. Before the end of the investigation, Hodges is the main suspect.
Author's Notes: Some bad language.
He didn’t did he? No, no of course not. Right?
David Hodges’s mind tossed back and forth between the two thoughts in an endless cycle.
It couldn’t have been him. He remembered cleaning that plate. No, it was definitely someone else. But. …
He guided the slide under the microscope and carefully adjusted the mirrors.
At first it felt like something had concussed the building. He had thought that someone had rammed the building with a wrecking ball.
The sample was definitely dog. He left the microscope and turned to where his reference books were. Only his hand was reaching for a plastic contamination curtain and not a bookshelf.
He could hear the screaming in his mind. His second thought had been that there was an attack on the lab.
Remembering where he had hastily shoved the books, he left the curtained temporary lab towards the locker rooms.
Then he had followed the crowds of panicked people out of the lab, his ears ringing and a sick feeling in his stomach.
He spun the lock with practised familiarity and shuffled around for the one on dog hair identification.
Words flew around the shell-shocked group. Archie was trapped in a fire. There had been a bomb in the reception room, there had been dozens of casualties. Greg had been killed. He had believed them, until he saw a shaken Archie hunched over on the curb and Judy the secretary sobbing on a friend’s shoulder.
His hand shook slightly as he lifted the book from the pile.
When Greg had been wheeled out his knees shook. Jacqui, Archie and the other techs stopped, just stopped, and watched. David had wanted nothing more then to look away but he just couldn’t tear his eyes from the motionless figure of Greg.
The book slipped from his grasp and hit the ground with a bang.
“Jesus,” David muttered, his heart racing at the sound. He covered his eyes with a hand wanting to block the image from his mind. It felt like it was burned on the insides of his eyelids.
And then Willows and Brown, cornering him like that. What the fuck did they think they were? Did they actually think he hated Greg that much? He was certain it was because he was the new guy; if they wanted to hand the blame to someone it would be the easiest to shove it off on him. That’s how LA worked anyway; politics was the only word they understood out there. That’s now he ended up in Vegas. One confrontation over lab results with the boss and the next thing he knew he was being shuffled off to cover a policing mistake.
That damn fucking hot plate.
He sat heavily on the bench and buried his head in his hands, book forgotten, open, at his feet. It just couldn’t have been him right? He had fucking washed that plate. He always did.
He took a deep shuddering breath to calm his nerves. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the book right below him. Poodle. It looked like a match to the new case.
The hands that grabbed the book no longer shook as he stood and strode back to his displaced lab.
Archie popped his head in the curtains later. “Hodges?”
“What?” he snapped, filling in the last line of the form.
“We were just going to head over to the hospital,” the sharp tone did nothing to deter Archie. “Catherine just told Jacqui that Greg can see visitors. A bunch of us are going.”
David’s hand paused on the last word. “What makes you think I want to go?”
“Come on,” Archie snorted. “Don’t be stupid. Day shift will be here in ten minutes. We’ll meet you outside in fifteen.”
David wrote the last word, triple checked that everything was off, clean and put away, then went to shove the book back into his locker. True to their word, Archie, Jacqui, Bobby and another pretty black intern were waiting by his car.
“Ready to go?” Jacqui’s face was still pale and the scratches on her face were still an angry red.
David nodded but jumped in protest as they all started to pile into his car.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he protested and caught the rear door before Archie could pull it closed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just get in the car Hodges!” Jacqui yelled from the front. He cursed under his breath and let the door go. Archie slammed it with a smirk.
The ride was tense. Bobby and Archie attempted to lighten the mood but between David’s stony silence and Jacqui’s nervous finger tapping, it didn’t work.
“Geez, Hodges, small enough car,” Bobby complain and shifted in the back. The pretty intern squished more obligingly against the door but David showed no such consideration.
“Maybe you’d like to get out then.”
“No,” Bobby hasted as David took a dangerously close left hand turn. “I’m good.”
The back seat breathed a lot easier when they finally reached Desert Palm. David didn’t even need the nasty glare on his face to get the others to cough up money for parking.
“Greg Saunders,” Jacqui told the nurse behind the receptions desk. “He came in from the crime lab, the e-explosion.”
No one commented as she stumbled over the word.
“He’s in room 301,” the nurse said without looking. “It’s not everyday one of you guys come through our doors.”
“’Us guys’?” Archie looked confused.
“Cops,” the nurse answered with a smile.
“Oh no, we’re not-“ Archie started but Jacqui just grabbed his arm and started to pull him along. The intern and Bobby hurried after them but David stayed behind to give the nurse a scathing look.
“We’re scientists,” he snapped, then turned before she could retort.
Greg looked as still and motionless as he had been when they loaded him onto the ambulance. For a split second David was sure that they had lied, that Greg really was dead.
But then Greg opened his eyes and even though his mouth couldn’t quite work up a smile, his eyes did.
“Hey,” he muttered and that’s all it took for Jacqui to rush to his bedside and give him a one armed hug. That seemed to be the signal for the other three to head over and start cooing over the tech. David hung back as they gave Greg the customary hair ruffles and greetings.
He settled into a chair nearby, feeling distinctly out of place. As they all gushed over Greg (who’s eyes were beginning to glaze over), David settled back, finally realising what the meddlesome night shift crew had done. Now he couldn’t leave without abandoning them all. He had to wait until they wanted to leave.
It was useless for them to try and foster any kind of friendship between him and the DNA tech. Since day one, the two had been at each other’s throats. Greg was too carefree for David’s taste. He wouldn’t have lasted two seconds in LA. It was an insult to be working with that punk kid when he could be working with professionals.
But, alas, and as if they were all hooked up to an internal radio signal, the other four suddenly decided coffee was in order and trampled out of the room, shutting the door before David could try and go after them.
He had to finally meet Greg in the eye.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Your hair is finally appropriate,” David couldn’t take it any more. “Now you actually can say you’ve been blow up.”
The joke fell flat. David shifted nervously in his chair as Greg’s dull eyes flicked from the door back to him. It was obvious neither of them wanted to be in the room together. That stupid mantra still ran through his head - Was it me?
“Do they know what happened yet?” Greg’s voice was scratchy and tired.
“No,” David hesitated. “Brown and Willows were going over the- the debris when I left.”
Greg’s eyes closed but David knew it wasn’t because he was tired. He felt a stab of sympathy. It was a lab tech’s worst nightmare come true. Archie, Jacqui, they didn’t get it. Bobby maybe. David lowered his head, it was his worst nightmare too. It was one thing getting injured or killed yourself while mixing chemicals, usually unknown chemicals at that, but having someone else hurt because of your mistake-
“It might not have been you,” David blurted before he could stop himself. Greg opened his eyes in surprise. “I mean….”
The chair looked very interesting, David decided as he stared at the arm.
“Hodges,” Greg’s voice sounded dragged.
“I mean, it might have been,” David still refused to look up. “Willows found- I mean…. I washed that damn plate I know I did.”
His voice had dropped until he was muttering to himself but he knew Greg could still hear him.
“What?” Greg sounded confused. “What are you talking about?”
David slumped in the chair. He blinked to clear his head and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “They think it was my fault. They think I left the hot plate under the fume hood on. And, they think it was my test that caused it.”
The air felt weighted to David was he had a sudden wish that he had just told Archie to fuck off.
“The hot plate?” Greg repeated slowly. David just nodded. “Are you serious?”
The tension broke and David shot Greg a glare. “I could lose my job over this you know. Willows and Brown are ready to tear me apart.”
“But the faulty hotplate?” Greg was smiling. He chuckled and winced. “I’ve put in like five reports to Grissom to get a new one and toss that old thing out. That thing turns on by itself.”
“I’m glad you find it so amusing,” David snapped and stood. “Tell the others they can find their own way home.”
“Wait, wait, Hodges!” Greg tried to sit up but fell back with a groan. Not even David could just leave Greg when he looked so much in pain. He sighed like a martyr and went over to the bed.
“Come on man,” this time the grin had enough strength behind it to looked like a real smile. “They won’t get ya for that.”
David sneered. “Sorry to burst your bubble but not everyone is the special pet of the CSIs. I’m just a scrape goat to them and they can not wait to add another black mark to my record.”
Greg was quiet for a moment and stared at David’s face searchingly. David shifted from foot to foot, more then eager to just leave, head back to his apartment, and wallow in his nose-diving career.
“If,” Greg started, his voice not nearly as hoarse as it had been before. “If they find out it was your fault, directly or indirectly,” Greg added quickly when David scowled, “I’ll vouch for you. I mean, if it was the hotplate then it’s nobody’s fault. You and I aren’t nearly stupid enough to leave something explosive anywhere near heat, whether it’s on or not. Jesus, Hodges. You act like I’m your enemy here.”
But what if it was me? That nagging voice was back as David caught sight of the nasty burn across Greg’s face and neck. He swallowed, if it ended up being him he wasn’t sure he wanted to work in a lab anymore.
The silence was starting to reach uncomfortable levels again as Bobby walked into the room.
“I didn’t think you’d want anything hot right now,” he said grinned. “So we got you a jello.”
“You mean the nurse took what we really got him and forced you to bring him jello,” Archie commented right behind.
David retreated to his chair again as the rest of the techs came back and Greg slowly started to drift off.
Title: Who?
Fandom: CSI
Characters: David Hodges
Prompt: Who?
Word Count: 1990
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Spoilers for PwF. Before the end of the investigation, Hodges is the main suspect.
Author's Notes: Some bad language.
He didn’t did he? No, no of course not. Right?
David Hodges’s mind tossed back and forth between the two thoughts in an endless cycle.
It couldn’t have been him. He remembered cleaning that plate. No, it was definitely someone else. But. …
He guided the slide under the microscope and carefully adjusted the mirrors.
At first it felt like something had concussed the building. He had thought that someone had rammed the building with a wrecking ball.
The sample was definitely dog. He left the microscope and turned to where his reference books were. Only his hand was reaching for a plastic contamination curtain and not a bookshelf.
He could hear the screaming in his mind. His second thought had been that there was an attack on the lab.
Remembering where he had hastily shoved the books, he left the curtained temporary lab towards the locker rooms.
Then he had followed the crowds of panicked people out of the lab, his ears ringing and a sick feeling in his stomach.
He spun the lock with practised familiarity and shuffled around for the one on dog hair identification.
Words flew around the shell-shocked group. Archie was trapped in a fire. There had been a bomb in the reception room, there had been dozens of casualties. Greg had been killed. He had believed them, until he saw a shaken Archie hunched over on the curb and Judy the secretary sobbing on a friend’s shoulder.
His hand shook slightly as he lifted the book from the pile.
When Greg had been wheeled out his knees shook. Jacqui, Archie and the other techs stopped, just stopped, and watched. David had wanted nothing more then to look away but he just couldn’t tear his eyes from the motionless figure of Greg.
The book slipped from his grasp and hit the ground with a bang.
“Jesus,” David muttered, his heart racing at the sound. He covered his eyes with a hand wanting to block the image from his mind. It felt like it was burned on the insides of his eyelids.
And then Willows and Brown, cornering him like that. What the fuck did they think they were? Did they actually think he hated Greg that much? He was certain it was because he was the new guy; if they wanted to hand the blame to someone it would be the easiest to shove it off on him. That’s how LA worked anyway; politics was the only word they understood out there. That’s now he ended up in Vegas. One confrontation over lab results with the boss and the next thing he knew he was being shuffled off to cover a policing mistake.
That damn fucking hot plate.
He sat heavily on the bench and buried his head in his hands, book forgotten, open, at his feet. It just couldn’t have been him right? He had fucking washed that plate. He always did.
He took a deep shuddering breath to calm his nerves. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the book right below him. Poodle. It looked like a match to the new case.
The hands that grabbed the book no longer shook as he stood and strode back to his displaced lab.
Archie popped his head in the curtains later. “Hodges?”
“What?” he snapped, filling in the last line of the form.
“We were just going to head over to the hospital,” the sharp tone did nothing to deter Archie. “Catherine just told Jacqui that Greg can see visitors. A bunch of us are going.”
David’s hand paused on the last word. “What makes you think I want to go?”
“Come on,” Archie snorted. “Don’t be stupid. Day shift will be here in ten minutes. We’ll meet you outside in fifteen.”
David wrote the last word, triple checked that everything was off, clean and put away, then went to shove the book back into his locker. True to their word, Archie, Jacqui, Bobby and another pretty black intern were waiting by his car.
“Ready to go?” Jacqui’s face was still pale and the scratches on her face were still an angry red.
David nodded but jumped in protest as they all started to pile into his car.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he protested and caught the rear door before Archie could pull it closed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just get in the car Hodges!” Jacqui yelled from the front. He cursed under his breath and let the door go. Archie slammed it with a smirk.
The ride was tense. Bobby and Archie attempted to lighten the mood but between David’s stony silence and Jacqui’s nervous finger tapping, it didn’t work.
“Geez, Hodges, small enough car,” Bobby complain and shifted in the back. The pretty intern squished more obligingly against the door but David showed no such consideration.
“Maybe you’d like to get out then.”
“No,” Bobby hasted as David took a dangerously close left hand turn. “I’m good.”
The back seat breathed a lot easier when they finally reached Desert Palm. David didn’t even need the nasty glare on his face to get the others to cough up money for parking.
“Greg Saunders,” Jacqui told the nurse behind the receptions desk. “He came in from the crime lab, the e-explosion.”
No one commented as she stumbled over the word.
“He’s in room 301,” the nurse said without looking. “It’s not everyday one of you guys come through our doors.”
“’Us guys’?” Archie looked confused.
“Cops,” the nurse answered with a smile.
“Oh no, we’re not-“ Archie started but Jacqui just grabbed his arm and started to pull him along. The intern and Bobby hurried after them but David stayed behind to give the nurse a scathing look.
“We’re scientists,” he snapped, then turned before she could retort.
Greg looked as still and motionless as he had been when they loaded him onto the ambulance. For a split second David was sure that they had lied, that Greg really was dead.
But then Greg opened his eyes and even though his mouth couldn’t quite work up a smile, his eyes did.
“Hey,” he muttered and that’s all it took for Jacqui to rush to his bedside and give him a one armed hug. That seemed to be the signal for the other three to head over and start cooing over the tech. David hung back as they gave Greg the customary hair ruffles and greetings.
He settled into a chair nearby, feeling distinctly out of place. As they all gushed over Greg (who’s eyes were beginning to glaze over), David settled back, finally realising what the meddlesome night shift crew had done. Now he couldn’t leave without abandoning them all. He had to wait until they wanted to leave.
It was useless for them to try and foster any kind of friendship between him and the DNA tech. Since day one, the two had been at each other’s throats. Greg was too carefree for David’s taste. He wouldn’t have lasted two seconds in LA. It was an insult to be working with that punk kid when he could be working with professionals.
But, alas, and as if they were all hooked up to an internal radio signal, the other four suddenly decided coffee was in order and trampled out of the room, shutting the door before David could try and go after them.
He had to finally meet Greg in the eye.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Your hair is finally appropriate,” David couldn’t take it any more. “Now you actually can say you’ve been blow up.”
The joke fell flat. David shifted nervously in his chair as Greg’s dull eyes flicked from the door back to him. It was obvious neither of them wanted to be in the room together. That stupid mantra still ran through his head - Was it me?
“Do they know what happened yet?” Greg’s voice was scratchy and tired.
“No,” David hesitated. “Brown and Willows were going over the- the debris when I left.”
Greg’s eyes closed but David knew it wasn’t because he was tired. He felt a stab of sympathy. It was a lab tech’s worst nightmare come true. Archie, Jacqui, they didn’t get it. Bobby maybe. David lowered his head, it was his worst nightmare too. It was one thing getting injured or killed yourself while mixing chemicals, usually unknown chemicals at that, but having someone else hurt because of your mistake-
“It might not have been you,” David blurted before he could stop himself. Greg opened his eyes in surprise. “I mean….”
The chair looked very interesting, David decided as he stared at the arm.
“Hodges,” Greg’s voice sounded dragged.
“I mean, it might have been,” David still refused to look up. “Willows found- I mean…. I washed that damn plate I know I did.”
His voice had dropped until he was muttering to himself but he knew Greg could still hear him.
“What?” Greg sounded confused. “What are you talking about?”
David slumped in the chair. He blinked to clear his head and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “They think it was my fault. They think I left the hot plate under the fume hood on. And, they think it was my test that caused it.”
The air felt weighted to David was he had a sudden wish that he had just told Archie to fuck off.
“The hot plate?” Greg repeated slowly. David just nodded. “Are you serious?”
The tension broke and David shot Greg a glare. “I could lose my job over this you know. Willows and Brown are ready to tear me apart.”
“But the faulty hotplate?” Greg was smiling. He chuckled and winced. “I’ve put in like five reports to Grissom to get a new one and toss that old thing out. That thing turns on by itself.”
“I’m glad you find it so amusing,” David snapped and stood. “Tell the others they can find their own way home.”
“Wait, wait, Hodges!” Greg tried to sit up but fell back with a groan. Not even David could just leave Greg when he looked so much in pain. He sighed like a martyr and went over to the bed.
“Come on man,” this time the grin had enough strength behind it to looked like a real smile. “They won’t get ya for that.”
David sneered. “Sorry to burst your bubble but not everyone is the special pet of the CSIs. I’m just a scrape goat to them and they can not wait to add another black mark to my record.”
Greg was quiet for a moment and stared at David’s face searchingly. David shifted from foot to foot, more then eager to just leave, head back to his apartment, and wallow in his nose-diving career.
“If,” Greg started, his voice not nearly as hoarse as it had been before. “If they find out it was your fault, directly or indirectly,” Greg added quickly when David scowled, “I’ll vouch for you. I mean, if it was the hotplate then it’s nobody’s fault. You and I aren’t nearly stupid enough to leave something explosive anywhere near heat, whether it’s on or not. Jesus, Hodges. You act like I’m your enemy here.”
But what if it was me? That nagging voice was back as David caught sight of the nasty burn across Greg’s face and neck. He swallowed, if it ended up being him he wasn’t sure he wanted to work in a lab anymore.
The silence was starting to reach uncomfortable levels again as Bobby walked into the room.
“I didn’t think you’d want anything hot right now,” he said grinned. “So we got you a jello.”
“You mean the nurse took what we really got him and forced you to bring him jello,” Archie commented right behind.
David retreated to his chair again as the rest of the techs came back and Greg slowly started to drift off.