And There They Stood, Unable / CSI
Title: And There They Stood, Unable
Rating: PG
Fandom: CSI
Prompt: Write about a bed.
Summary: Warrick is plagued by dreams he doesn't understand. (Warrick/Jacqui.)
The corridors of the lab are empty.
The offices are bare. There aren’t any uniforms in the lobby.
The corpses are missing.
When Warrick wakes, uncomprehending, he hears rain and the soft sound of Jacqui’s breathing. She doesn’t stir (she never does, except for coffee or chocolate) and her breath remains a pattern of in out, in out, which leaves Warrick grateful. He turns to his right, watching her sleep, and eventually drifts into unconsciousness.
Lately, he’s been having these dreams about nothing, but they leave him with a headache and a bad case of nausea.
…
What are you looking for? asks a voice, and Warrick turns to see Jacqui walking beside him. He wonders-briefly-why Sara or Catherine isn’t here.
She’s walking quickly.
Can’t you keep up? she questions, turning to watch him with a surprised expression. Everyone’s looking for Nick.
Warrick wants to ask why the corpses are all gone, but the dead don’t matter when the living are at risk.
In the dream, he can never keep up and loses track of her by the time she turns down the hallway.
“I’ll go in first,” Jacqui offers, running her hand through dark hair and giving Warrick a small smile. She sits in the passenger seat of Warrick’s SUV, the pink sunset tinting the sky behind her. “You can follow in about five minutes.”
Warrick doesn’t reply. He’s tongue-tied with guilt, because he told her to keep their relationship under wraps for the time being.
Three weeks ago, he thinks. That was three weeks ago, and you’re still leading her on.
…
It’s raining in the desert, where it isn’t supposed to rain.
He’s running with the team to find where Nick’s buried.
Only it’s raining-makes digging harder-raining-leaking through the sand-raining-so that the water fills Nick’s coffin-raining-and either way, Nick will run out of air if they don’t hurry.
And when they find a plot of land where the lilacs are growing, they know he’s beneath that bit of ground, so Warrick grabs a shovel, and-
Everything stops.
The team freezes: they’re warm statues with skin, a small army of angels caught in a film still. Warrick panics and hollers and works without them until Jacqui walks up and takes a shovel.
I can help, she says, if you want.
She turns to face the plot and Warrick suddenly sees Hodges-David that’s what I call him now Jacqui insisted-sitting and crying, picking up the lilacs, saying Please, please hurry.
The dreams get stranger and Warrick starts hating spring. Spring brings back the worst memories; the smell of dirt, explosives, and cash that’s been blown into a million useless bits.
It’s a good thing Jacqui’s there to help him out.
…
The corridors of the lab are empty.
The offices are bare. There aren’t any uniforms in the lobby.
The corpses are missing.
Haven’t we done this already? And Jacqui’s standing next to him, looking around the ghost lab, her expression unreadable. Why is everything repeating itself?
When Warrick wakes, uncomprehending, he hears rain and the soft sound of Jacqui’s breathing. She doesn’t stir and her breath remains a pattern of in out, in out, which leaves Warrick grateful. He turns to his right, watching her sleep, but can’t follow that particular path.
It’s been two months and it’s still a secret.
She thinks I’m ashamed of her, but she won’t admit it.
…
It’s raining when they finally pull out all the lilacs, dig up the dirt, and Nick’s staring through the foggy coffin top.
Careful, says David. The explosives are live. Careful, careful.
But there isn’t anything to drag Nick out, and so they all stare through the glass, and David reaches down-desperate-while Nick reaches up-desperate-and their hands touch and-
Boom.
It’s suddenly raining glass, and Greg’s scarred on the ground, the fuel for a raging fire. Catherine’s crying and saying it’s all her fault.
Has this happened before? Jacqui asks, and Warrick can’t answer, because he isn’t sure anymore.
His eyes fly open. Jacqui’s looking at him from across the pillow.
“Bad dream?” she questions, showing her concern, although it’s against the rules: this was only supposed to be a one-time thing, and now they’ve climbed the ladder to “friends with benefits”.
“Yeah,” he manages to say. “Yeah, it’s just… weird. Everything was all jumbled together.”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
He shakes his head and circles his arm around her waist. “Trust me,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and listening for her heartbeat. “You don’t want to know.”
…
The corridors of the lab are… full.
The offices are in use. Uniforms patrol the lobby.
The corpses are still missing.
Why am I not surprised? Jacqui asks, appearing from the air and looking around with a frown, watching everyone with a suspicion Warrick understands.
But something’s different, and everyone’s… younger. Catherine’s hair isn’t the same color, and Gris doesn’t have his mustache, and Brass still seems so angry.
Holly Gribbs walks by, happily chatting with Greg-his hair’s still brown and curly-and suddenly a shot rings out.
Holly’s dead, and Greg’s just staring at her, and everyone seems to move and stay still at the same time.
Lately, he’s been having these dreams about nothing, but they leave him with a headache and a bad case of nausea. Warrick knows they can’t be random. He knows it. They’re trying to tell him something, but he can’t understand the meaning. It’s lost upon him.
Lost.
Loss.
Lose.
A realization strikes as she slumbers next to him: I’m going to lose her if I don’t get my act together.
…
So he kisses her in the front lobby, and whether Ecklie sees or doesn’t see is a question for someone else to care about. Her eyes widen and her gloss is a little smeared; there’s some on his lips, too, so he wipes it off with the back of hand and says, “I’m sorry, Jacq. I’ve been…”
“An idiot. A moron. A selfish jackass,” David mutters. She jabs him in the side with her elbow. Surprisingly, he falls silent, threatening Warrick with his eyes: if you hurt her, you’ll pay with everything you have.
He doesn’t doubt Hodges’ threat. The important part, though, is that she forgives him, and they start over right this time.
…
That night, he doesn’t dream about losing Nick or Hodges or Greg or Holly or the team, and both he and Jacqui sleep peacefully.
FIN.
Rating: PG
Fandom: CSI
Prompt: Write about a bed.
Summary: Warrick is plagued by dreams he doesn't understand. (Warrick/Jacqui.)
The corridors of the lab are empty.
The offices are bare. There aren’t any uniforms in the lobby.
The corpses are missing.
When Warrick wakes, uncomprehending, he hears rain and the soft sound of Jacqui’s breathing. She doesn’t stir (she never does, except for coffee or chocolate) and her breath remains a pattern of in out, in out, which leaves Warrick grateful. He turns to his right, watching her sleep, and eventually drifts into unconsciousness.
Lately, he’s been having these dreams about nothing, but they leave him with a headache and a bad case of nausea.
…
What are you looking for? asks a voice, and Warrick turns to see Jacqui walking beside him. He wonders-briefly-why Sara or Catherine isn’t here.
She’s walking quickly.
Can’t you keep up? she questions, turning to watch him with a surprised expression. Everyone’s looking for Nick.
Warrick wants to ask why the corpses are all gone, but the dead don’t matter when the living are at risk.
In the dream, he can never keep up and loses track of her by the time she turns down the hallway.
“I’ll go in first,” Jacqui offers, running her hand through dark hair and giving Warrick a small smile. She sits in the passenger seat of Warrick’s SUV, the pink sunset tinting the sky behind her. “You can follow in about five minutes.”
Warrick doesn’t reply. He’s tongue-tied with guilt, because he told her to keep their relationship under wraps for the time being.
Three weeks ago, he thinks. That was three weeks ago, and you’re still leading her on.
…
It’s raining in the desert, where it isn’t supposed to rain.
He’s running with the team to find where Nick’s buried.
Only it’s raining-makes digging harder-raining-leaking through the sand-raining-so that the water fills Nick’s coffin-raining-and either way, Nick will run out of air if they don’t hurry.
And when they find a plot of land where the lilacs are growing, they know he’s beneath that bit of ground, so Warrick grabs a shovel, and-
Everything stops.
The team freezes: they’re warm statues with skin, a small army of angels caught in a film still. Warrick panics and hollers and works without them until Jacqui walks up and takes a shovel.
I can help, she says, if you want.
She turns to face the plot and Warrick suddenly sees Hodges-David that’s what I call him now Jacqui insisted-sitting and crying, picking up the lilacs, saying Please, please hurry.
The dreams get stranger and Warrick starts hating spring. Spring brings back the worst memories; the smell of dirt, explosives, and cash that’s been blown into a million useless bits.
It’s a good thing Jacqui’s there to help him out.
…
The corridors of the lab are empty.
The offices are bare. There aren’t any uniforms in the lobby.
The corpses are missing.
Haven’t we done this already? And Jacqui’s standing next to him, looking around the ghost lab, her expression unreadable. Why is everything repeating itself?
When Warrick wakes, uncomprehending, he hears rain and the soft sound of Jacqui’s breathing. She doesn’t stir and her breath remains a pattern of in out, in out, which leaves Warrick grateful. He turns to his right, watching her sleep, but can’t follow that particular path.
It’s been two months and it’s still a secret.
She thinks I’m ashamed of her, but she won’t admit it.
…
It’s raining when they finally pull out all the lilacs, dig up the dirt, and Nick’s staring through the foggy coffin top.
Careful, says David. The explosives are live. Careful, careful.
But there isn’t anything to drag Nick out, and so they all stare through the glass, and David reaches down-desperate-while Nick reaches up-desperate-and their hands touch and-
Boom.
It’s suddenly raining glass, and Greg’s scarred on the ground, the fuel for a raging fire. Catherine’s crying and saying it’s all her fault.
Has this happened before? Jacqui asks, and Warrick can’t answer, because he isn’t sure anymore.
His eyes fly open. Jacqui’s looking at him from across the pillow.
“Bad dream?” she questions, showing her concern, although it’s against the rules: this was only supposed to be a one-time thing, and now they’ve climbed the ladder to “friends with benefits”.
“Yeah,” he manages to say. “Yeah, it’s just… weird. Everything was all jumbled together.”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
He shakes his head and circles his arm around her waist. “Trust me,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and listening for her heartbeat. “You don’t want to know.”
…
The corridors of the lab are… full.
The offices are in use. Uniforms patrol the lobby.
The corpses are still missing.
Why am I not surprised? Jacqui asks, appearing from the air and looking around with a frown, watching everyone with a suspicion Warrick understands.
But something’s different, and everyone’s… younger. Catherine’s hair isn’t the same color, and Gris doesn’t have his mustache, and Brass still seems so angry.
Holly Gribbs walks by, happily chatting with Greg-his hair’s still brown and curly-and suddenly a shot rings out.
Holly’s dead, and Greg’s just staring at her, and everyone seems to move and stay still at the same time.
Lately, he’s been having these dreams about nothing, but they leave him with a headache and a bad case of nausea. Warrick knows they can’t be random. He knows it. They’re trying to tell him something, but he can’t understand the meaning. It’s lost upon him.
Lost.
Loss.
Lose.
A realization strikes as she slumbers next to him: I’m going to lose her if I don’t get my act together.
…
So he kisses her in the front lobby, and whether Ecklie sees or doesn’t see is a question for someone else to care about. Her eyes widen and her gloss is a little smeared; there’s some on his lips, too, so he wipes it off with the back of hand and says, “I’m sorry, Jacq. I’ve been…”
“An idiot. A moron. A selfish jackass,” David mutters. She jabs him in the side with her elbow. Surprisingly, he falls silent, threatening Warrick with his eyes: if you hurt her, you’ll pay with everything you have.
He doesn’t doubt Hodges’ threat. The important part, though, is that she forgives him, and they start over right this time.
…
That night, he doesn’t dream about losing Nick or Hodges or Greg or Holly or the team, and both he and Jacqui sleep peacefully.
FIN.