Title: Walking With Death
By: Tiffany F
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG
Summary: Grissom makes a new "friend" at a crime scene and makes everyone else doubt his sanity. I don't own CSI and I don't own anything from Terry Pratchett's world.The scene was a mess, two dead bodies and two mangled cars that blocked the intersection. The people in the cross walk had been lucky; they were going to live. Gil Grissom looked around with a sigh. They saw these kinds of accidents all too often working the night shift but it never made them any easier.
As he looked over towards his Tahoe, wondering where Nick and Greg wandered off to, he caught sight of a tall figure in what looked like a black robe. Grissom paused and looked back because no one should have been in the crime scene, especially dressed like they were on their way to a Halloween party but there was no one there. His head twitched to the right, a familiar mannerism to any who knew the man well; he was puzzled. But in the flashing lights and under the harsh glare of the street lights, Gil knew his eyes could play tricks on him. He just preferred them not to; he had to see what was really there to be able to interpret the evidence to find out what happened before and just as these two cars met.
WHAT DOES IT MATTER IN THE END? a hollow voice asked, close to his ear. YOU CANNOT RESTORE THEIR LIFE TO THEM.
Grissom spun around but there was no one behind him. He shook his head with a sigh and started to work. The evidence wouldn't wait.
~~**~~
Death sighed and watched the man in front of him. While he wasn't good at telling humans apart, he'd seen this one before. He wandered in, watching everything and collected items from places where people died. Death wondered why he did that because the people were dead. That he was positive of. And yet this man continued his duty day after day, showing single-mindedness that Death could admire. He was curious and decided to learn more about the man. After all, it wasn't like Death didn't have the time.
~~**~~
The second crime scene of the night wasn't as bloody but someone had died, suspiciously. Grissom wondered, at times, why people chose to kill others. What was it that made them want to go out and actively end another's life?
IT IS WHAT THEY ARE DESTINED TO DO. That same hollow voice he'd heard before said in his ear.
Grissom looked around. Since his surgery his hearing was good and he never doubted his senses and right now they were telling him he wasn't alone.
"All right," Gil said, standing in the middle of the crime scene, "you seem to be here. I can hear you talking but don't you think that it would be polite to let me see you? Unless, of course, I've finally gone crazy and am talking to the voices in my head."
Slowly a form took shape in the room, not far from where Grissom was standing. His eyes narrowed as he realized it was a seven foot tall skeleton in a black robe holding a scythe. "That's a good costume," Gil said, annoyed.
THIS IS NOT A COSTUME, Death replied, his voice heavy. THIS IS WHAT I AM.
"You're a skeleton," Grissom said.
YES.
"Maybe I am over due for some vacation time," Gil muttered. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes but the shape was still there when he looked again. "Okay, so you're a skeleton; Death I presume."
YES.
"So now I'm walking with death?" Grissom said.
NO. I WISH TO KNOW WHY YOU STUDY PLACES WHERE PEOPLE DIE. WHAT GOOD DOES IT TO FOR THEM? THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD.
"I'm collecting evidence to tell me how they died and, if possible, who killed them," Grissom said. "That way the suspect can be caught by the police and taken into custody and not kill again."
BUT WHAT IF THEY ARE ONLY TO KILL THAT ONE TIME? WHAT GOOD DOES LOCKING THEM AWAY DO? Death asked, obviously puzzled although his face didn't change its expression. WON'T THAT JUST DO THEM MORE HARM?
"We don't know that they'll only kill the one time," Grissom said evenly. "Besides, by killing another they are breaking the law and need to be punished for their crime. I'm able to interpret the evidence from the crime scene to help the police carry out their job."
THERE MUST BE LAW, Death agreed solemnly. BUT HOW DOES THIS EVIDENCE TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED? SURELY IT IS INANIMATE AND CANNOT TALK.
"Let me do my job in peace here and follow me back to the lab," Grissom said, realizing this was going to take more time than he wanted to spend. "I'll see if I can explain everything there."
Death nodded and faded once more. Gil sighed and opened his kit. "And then I think I'll take a nice long vacation."
~~**~~
"So this computer takes the fingerprints and runs then through a data bank to see if they match up with anyone who has been arrested in the past," Grissom was saying as Nick walked past. "Or a government employee or anyone else who would have been printed as part of their jobs."
"Uh, Gris man, you okay?" Nick asked, looking into the room.
"Of course, Nick," Grissom replied, looking up from his paperwork. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you're explaining the fingerprint computer to an empty room," Nick said.
"Oh," Grissom said, looking up, "I didn't realize he wasn't going to...Look, could your make yourself visible to everyone else please?" He paused for a minute. "Well then this will take twice as long because people are going to think I'm talking to myself." Grissom paused again. "Yes, that's considered abnormal behavior here."
Nick backed out of the room and ran into Greg. "I don't think you should go in there, man," he said, trying not to look at Grissom. "I think Gris has finally lost it."
"Why?" Greg asked.
"He's in there talking to himself," Nick replied. "Only he's doing it like there's someone else in the room with him."
Greg looked over Nick's shoulder and saw Grissom sitting at one of the computers. "He looks all right to me," he said. "Besides, I have those results he's been waiting for and I don't want to keep him waiting any longer."
"Your funeral, man," Nick said, making his way down the hall.
~~**~~
"DNA evidence is a relatively new discipline," Grissom said, taking the printout from the folder. "All human DNA is unique to an individual and, if it's in the CODIS system, we'll get one of these printouts." He paused for a moment. "Yes, then we know if the suspect has been at the crime scene."
Nick paused in the hallway outside of Grissom's office. He wanted to look in and see if his boss was still alone but he was worried. Nick couldn't decide if he should call the department shrink or just tell Catherine that Gris was cracking up.
"Grissom," Nick said, finally poking his head in the door.
"Yes Nick?"
"You're still talking to yourself," he said, looking around. As he had feared, Grissom was still alone.
"Can you do me a favor, Nick?"
"Sure Gris, anything."
"Just go away," Grissom said, rubbing his eyes.
~~**~~
"Has anyone noticed how odd Gris is acting tonight?" Nick asked as he walked into the break room.
"Odd how?" Sara asked in reply.
"Every time I've seen him he's been in a room talking to himself," Nick replied, sinking down at the table. "And now he just told me to go away."
Catherine looked up and noticed the puzzled looks on her co-workers faces. "No, Nick, I'd have to say you're the only one who's noticed anything," she said. "Do you need some time off?"
"Do I need some time off?" Nick exclaimed. "Man, Grissom is the one talking to himself!"
"About what?" Catherine asked. She knew how odd her friend actually was and muttering to himself about his work wasn't unheard of.
"First it was the finger print system and then DNA," Nick said. "It's like he was explaining it to someone only there wasn't anyone in the room with him. And you know how much he hates people hanging around when he's working."
"Why don't you take the rest of the night off," Catherine said, patting Nick's arm. "Go home and get some sleep; I'll let Gil know you're not feeling well."
"Sure, why not?" Nick all but yelled. "But don't come crying to me when you see Gris acting all weird!"
~~**~~
"Normally trace evidence such as this is sent to a regular lab," Grissom's voice carried out into the hall, "but our tech is out tonight so we either have to wait or run it ourselves."
Nick banged his head against the wall a few times before looking into the trace lab. As he feared, Grissom was alone. "You know what, Grissom, I don't care!" he shouted and stormed off towards the parking lot.
RATHER HIGH STRUNG, ISN'T HE? Death asked, his impassive face watched as Nick disappeared.
Grissom sighed. "And they say Death doesn't kill you," he muttered.
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