CSI:LV Fic: Optimum Potential - Ch.3/20
Title: Optimum Potential
Chapter: 3/20
Author: caffeinified
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas
Characters/Pairing: Gil Grissom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. It's just for fun.
Summary: Casefile: Mira O’Hara. Warning for adult themes in case details.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2
Perhaps he had become somewhat distanced from the daily ins and outs of a City Morgue, of the Medical Examiner’s office. It was possible that he had become detached from the violence and horror of most cases that came through the crime lab. Any disenchantment and aloofness came full circle each time the victim on the autopsy table barely took up half of the top surface.
A shower after processing the filth of the location of the discovery of the adolescent D.B. had given him adequate time to prepare himself for what he would see in the autopsy room. At one time in his career he had been an M.E. himself and had always had a different take on death than most of the population. He never tried to force his beliefs and views on others and expected the same treatment in return.
As he gloved up and put on the lab coat, he knew that no amount of supposed preparation was enough to analyze a life cut far too short in obviously so unfair a fashion. A glance into the small window in the doors to the Morgue proved the suspicions that he had already placed on himself. He caught sight of hair that should be blonde and smooth but instead was matted and soaked in blood.
“You’re late.”
“Hello to you too Catherine.” Gil greeted, slipping on his glasses as he made his way to the autopsy table. Under one arm he carried a clipboard to make notes on. “Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted me here before I took a shower.”
Catherine nodded, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “I know. I smelled the scene. Nick still there?”
After Gil nodded, Doc Robbins slipped his own glasses on and began his analysis. “Alright… We have a female Jane Doe approximately fifteen years of age. Petechial hemorrhaging and bruising formed around the neck, multiple scarring and the deadly blow: multiple blunt force traumas to the back of the head. She was hit so hard that her skull caved in with several of the blows. Weapon was small and round almost a silver dollar size diameter.”
“Hammer?” Gil took a chance at guessing.
Doc nodded. “That’d be my guess. Further analysis will prove one way or another.”
After a beat of silence, Catherine asked the question that everyone was waiting for. “Sexual assault?”
“Yes. Massive trauma in the vaginal area.” Ever aloof and with the pressing question answered, Doc chose that moment to walk away from the table to move to the lighted x-ray viewing screen. “Take a look at this. Our bodies tell the physical stories of our lives and as you say Gil, they don’t lie. Using hyperspectral imaging this is the extreme bruising she’s suffered in the last week.” He picked up another sheet and put it over the first. “The last month.” And one more. “The last year.” Each subsequent sheet told a different story of more abuse.
Gil had to remind himself to close his mouth as it had been hanging open just slightly in shock. A glance to Catherine showed that she was suffering the same ill-prepared state as he was. “She’s been abused for quite awhile.”
“Yes. I could keep going back as much as two years but I think you already have your answer. Does she have a name?”
Gil looked back to the little girl on the autopsy table. “Not yet. She will.”
“Someone has to be missing this little girl.” Catherine said. “Look at her.”
Moving back to the table, Gil looked down to the nameless teenager. “Catherine, did you process the body?”
“Yeah. She’s ready to be cleaned off.”
“I can do that. It is my job.” Doc said.
There wasn’t any explanation for the need Gil had to perform the cleaning. He had done it so many times as the coroner and M.E. in L.A. county. That now felt like lifetime ago. “I’ll do it.”
**
Doc had just completed stitching up the Y incision and now they cleaned, washing away the remnants of death. It was something the public rarely ever gave thought to. It was something that if anyone did give thought to, they found to be something disgusting or upsetting. In the end it was necessary.
To most, this was a difficult and tedious job. To Gil it was relaxing, therapeutic and in a sense emotionally soothing. The spray washed over pale skin dotted with bruises and cuts. At young Jane Doe’s hair, the water turned a crimson red as it washed away and slowly drained.
It was necessary.
Chapter: 3/20
Author: caffeinified
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas
Characters/Pairing: Gil Grissom
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. It's just for fun.
Summary: Casefile: Mira O’Hara. Warning for adult themes in case details.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2
Perhaps he had become somewhat distanced from the daily ins and outs of a City Morgue, of the Medical Examiner’s office. It was possible that he had become detached from the violence and horror of most cases that came through the crime lab. Any disenchantment and aloofness came full circle each time the victim on the autopsy table barely took up half of the top surface.
A shower after processing the filth of the location of the discovery of the adolescent D.B. had given him adequate time to prepare himself for what he would see in the autopsy room. At one time in his career he had been an M.E. himself and had always had a different take on death than most of the population. He never tried to force his beliefs and views on others and expected the same treatment in return.
As he gloved up and put on the lab coat, he knew that no amount of supposed preparation was enough to analyze a life cut far too short in obviously so unfair a fashion. A glance into the small window in the doors to the Morgue proved the suspicions that he had already placed on himself. He caught sight of hair that should be blonde and smooth but instead was matted and soaked in blood.
“You’re late.”
“Hello to you too Catherine.” Gil greeted, slipping on his glasses as he made his way to the autopsy table. Under one arm he carried a clipboard to make notes on. “Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted me here before I took a shower.”
Catherine nodded, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “I know. I smelled the scene. Nick still there?”
After Gil nodded, Doc Robbins slipped his own glasses on and began his analysis. “Alright… We have a female Jane Doe approximately fifteen years of age. Petechial hemorrhaging and bruising formed around the neck, multiple scarring and the deadly blow: multiple blunt force traumas to the back of the head. She was hit so hard that her skull caved in with several of the blows. Weapon was small and round almost a silver dollar size diameter.”
“Hammer?” Gil took a chance at guessing.
Doc nodded. “That’d be my guess. Further analysis will prove one way or another.”
After a beat of silence, Catherine asked the question that everyone was waiting for. “Sexual assault?”
“Yes. Massive trauma in the vaginal area.” Ever aloof and with the pressing question answered, Doc chose that moment to walk away from the table to move to the lighted x-ray viewing screen. “Take a look at this. Our bodies tell the physical stories of our lives and as you say Gil, they don’t lie. Using hyperspectral imaging this is the extreme bruising she’s suffered in the last week.” He picked up another sheet and put it over the first. “The last month.” And one more. “The last year.” Each subsequent sheet told a different story of more abuse.
Gil had to remind himself to close his mouth as it had been hanging open just slightly in shock. A glance to Catherine showed that she was suffering the same ill-prepared state as he was. “She’s been abused for quite awhile.”
“Yes. I could keep going back as much as two years but I think you already have your answer. Does she have a name?”
Gil looked back to the little girl on the autopsy table. “Not yet. She will.”
“Someone has to be missing this little girl.” Catherine said. “Look at her.”
Moving back to the table, Gil looked down to the nameless teenager. “Catherine, did you process the body?”
“Yeah. She’s ready to be cleaned off.”
“I can do that. It is my job.” Doc said.
There wasn’t any explanation for the need Gil had to perform the cleaning. He had done it so many times as the coroner and M.E. in L.A. county. That now felt like lifetime ago. “I’ll do it.”
**
Doc had just completed stitching up the Y incision and now they cleaned, washing away the remnants of death. It was something the public rarely ever gave thought to. It was something that if anyone did give thought to, they found to be something disgusting or upsetting. In the end it was necessary.
To most, this was a difficult and tedious job. To Gil it was relaxing, therapeutic and in a sense emotionally soothing. The spray washed over pale skin dotted with bruises and cuts. At young Jane Doe’s hair, the water turned a crimson red as it washed away and slowly drained.
It was necessary.