The Fury of Love - CatNip RP

Sofia, meanwhile, still nursing the coffee, walked out to the lab. She was about to start processing some evidence when her phone rang. "Curtis. Wait, what happened? Ok, be right there." It turned out Sofia was needed over at the Tangiers. There had been a homicide in the Presidential Suite. She was walking out to her car when something hit her hard on the head. She turned. Before she could react, she crumpled to the ground, and the world around her went pitch black.
 
Nick opened his mouth to say, "I'm fine." when the words were sucked from his conscience. The words Catherine just whispered began to register, but he shook his head, ruffled his brown hair, and hopped out of the Denali, clipping his cell to his belt again and grabbing his kit, trailing after Catherine, who was headed towards Brass at the front door.

"Jim." He nodded, and Brass nodded back, motioning for them to follow him into the house.

"Mother's in the master bath. First girl is in the master bedroom and the other is in the kitchen. Apparently the mother had just finalised the divorce between herself and the husband, who coincidentally found them." Brass raised his eyebrows, noting to them his disbelief. "He's being held over there, for you to get what you need before we bring him in for a statement. Have fun." And with that, Brass walked back out of the house, leaving them to do what they do best.
 
“I’m going to start on the inside. Will you interview the father?” Catherine asked as she branched away from Nick. A big part of her wanted to protect him, but she also realized he did not want that.

She entered the house shining her flashlight around to notice for any disturbances in the living room. The living room branched off into the kitchen, so she entered carefully. She noticed a sign of a struggle near the kitchen table. One chair was flipped over, and a plate was shattered in pieces next to the chair. Catherine took in a deep breath when she saw the girl. She was most likely around Lindsey’s age, and she was covered in blood. She was lying face down, and it appeared that she had multiple stab wounds covering the full length of her torso and legs. Catherine was about to take out her camera when her cell phone rang.

“Lindsey, baby…I can’t tonight,” Catherine said as she rubbed the tension from her nose. Her daughter was not thrilled with her answer, and she could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Can we hang tomorrow; we could go shopping or something?” Catherine asked in hopes to cheer up her up. Catherine waited for a response, but did not receive one. “Lindsey, honey…I’m on a tough case tonight, and I’m not going to get home anytime soon.” The conversation ended, but Catherine still felt a bit uneasy. She knew Lindsey was upset, and more than anything she wanted to be at home with her.
 
Nick nodded, thankful that Catherine realized he needed to be away from the bodies to begin with. And not only that, he felt that he needed to stray away from her for a little bit. That kiss at the club was definitely not helping his mood. He ducked under the crime scene tape, carrying his kit along with him over towards a cop car, a very shaken caucasian male sitting on the back seat, door open.

Approaching slowly, he nodded to the cop before kneeling down, setting his kit on the grass, and looking at the husband. He was crying, his green eyes staring at the pavement, only stealing glances at him. "Sir? I need your name please, and those of the deceased inside." Pulling the notepad from his pocket and pen, he looked back at the man, trying to coax him to start.

"I'm Marty, Marty Levinsworth. My wife, Karen, we had just split. I came to pick up the girls-"

"Mr. Levinsworth, your statement is going to be taken at the station, I just need their names and your daughters' ages." Martin nodded, gulping.

"Abby, she's 15. I-I found her in the kitchen, that's the blood all over me. I - I knelt down to get her pulse, and got blood all over me. Sandie, Sandra, she's only 8. She was on the bed, and-and I found Karen in the bathroom." Nick gently nodded, the man beginning to cry silently again as Nick pulled his camera out, trying to hold back emotion as he began taking pictures of the bloodied hands.

"Mr. Levinsworth, I need your clothes and shoes, everything. I have a set of garments the lab issues for these things in my truck, so if you'll cooperate and change in the cruiser, please. It's just protocol." The man nodded, as Nick swabbed the man's hands, capped them, and laid them back in the kit. "Watch him." Nick stood up and brought his kit back to the Denali, grabbing the men's bag of garments and some large evidence bags before heading back to the man.

With shoes and socks already off, Martin let Nick bag his shoes and socks before taking the extra set of clothes and closing the door. "Guys, can you block off all the windows please for the guy." The cops frowned, but blocked off the windows, a few minutes later, a knock coming from inside the cruiser, and out emerged a changed Martin Levinsworth. Nick nodded again, bagging the garments and thanked him. "Mr. Levinsworth, Officer Grand is going to escort you back to the station for a statement. Thanks." Taking the clothing back to the Denali and dropping it off, he turned towards the house, involuntarily shivering.

Despite, he moved forward, almost to him it seemed like creeping. Moving carefully through the downstairs to the kitchen he watched Catherine processing the scene. "That one's Abigail Levinsworth, 15. The girl upstairs is Sandra, 8 and the mother is Karen, 42. You want me to take the other two?"
 
Catherine looked down at the young girl, and she desperately wanted to cover her up with something. She closed her eyes for a brief moment to steady herself. She could smell the copper ness in the air because there was so much blood. She immediately thought of Lindsey, but pushed the thought out of her head. She took out her camera and started snapping pictures of the girl’s body. She also focused on the blood pools, and the blood splatter. She was fleeing trying to get away. Catherine’s eyes closed as she pictured the scene in her head. The girl was so desperate to get away, so frightened she was willing to run outside with out any clothes on. She wondered if she knew her attacker. “Damn…damn it,” Catherine muttered under her breath. She continued to take the pictures she needed.

She then started sectioning off the blood pool to take different samples. She swabbed multiple areas with different cotton tips then pulled them back down in their containers, and snapped them shut.

She was about to start and look for trace evidence of blood when Nick entered the kitchen. “That one’s Abigail Levinsworth, 15. The girl upstairs is Sandra, 8 and the mother is Karen, 42. You want me to take the other two?”

Catherine looked back at Abigail, and stared at her for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but came up empty. She took a moment before she tried to speak again. “She’s…Lindsey’s age. She was trying to flee, and nearly made it. Who does this to a little girl?” Catherine asked him incredulously. She closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself down. “Sorry, yes that will be fine. I will be up to help you when I’m done down here.”
 
Nick stared wearily down at the teenager's body, nude and filled with holes down her back, buttocks and legs. “She’s…Lindsey’s age. She was trying to flee, and nearly made it. Who does this to a little girl?” He noted the way she fell, and closed his eyes, looking away as his scientific head played out for him what possibly could've happened. He couldn't handle that, not yet. He wasn't sure he'd ever be, but he'd have to. Opening his eyes, he shook his head, kneeling down next to the body, shook his head, and careful not to disturb the scene, let a shudder ripple through him as he cupped a gloved hand on the side of her face. Standing quickly, his gaze stiffened again, and halfway turned towards the stairs he called back to Catherine, "The same type of person who could've easily done this to me. And I'm sorry about earlier."

He whispered it, and just barely breathed the second line, so he wasn't even sure if she heard him as he started up the stairs to the hallway, shining his torch over the pictures hanging on the wall and gulped as he looked over the smiling faces. He had already witnessed the one, now contored face of the trio and made his way down the hallway to meet the faces of the other two. He slowly approached the door at the end of the hallway, slightly closed with a bloody smear across the hand. Prolonging the scene behind here for as long as he could, he pulled a swab, wiped the handle, dusted it, photographed it, and stood again staring fixedly at the white door.

Pushing gently on the door, he took a step in and saw the bed, his breath catching in his throat for yet another time that evening and swallowed, moisture forming on his eyes, and was thankful Catherine wasn't there so he could quickly wipe it away. The small, once fragile body was, again, nude, but her death must've been more horrid, more of passion and time than the one of the teenage sister in the kitchen. The scene was morbid, and he approached closer, his duty calling.

Sandra Levinsworth's shining dark brown hair was matted, knotted, and clumps of dark material, which he presumed to be her hair, surrounded her head. Her dulled icy blue eyes stared directly up at the ceiling. Clear marks of strangling were lined on her fair neck, ankles, and wrists. Her legs were spread wide, arms close to the side, and Nick's face turned cold with anger as he realized whoever did this had raped her as they were strangling her. Seems he had a little fun afterwards, too, he thought as his eyes intricately scanned her body, deep lacerations throughout her body, and horrifyingly, making the shape of vines and flowers twisted around her body like a snake.

Horrified, he walked around the bed to observe the place of the mother. Her body was straight against the bathroom wall, as if she were standing, and his disgust and anger burned deeper as he saw why. She was nailed to the wall, railroad spikes driven through her limp wrists together, one through each ankle to keep her legs apart, and a single one through her stomach, her belly button most likely since he didn't see one. Shaking his head and arms heavily shaking, he set his kit down at the foot of the bed as he retreated from the room and stumbled down the stairs, walking into the kitchen and opened the sliding glass door Catherine had just finished processing, sucking in as much fresh air as he could, sitting down at the sense of diziness.
 
Catherine noticed a fiber on the girl’s leg, and picked it up with her tweezers. She held it closer in the light, and noticed that it was a grayish blue color. She put the fiber in an evidence envelop, and sealed it shut. She turned her head to look back at Nick who had disappeared back through the living room. “The same type of person who could’ve easily done this to me. And I’m sorry about earlier,” Nick mumbled as he answered her question. “I’m sorry too, you caught me off guard,” Catherine mumbled under her breath as she smiled softly.

She finished collecting her blood evidence, and noticed bloody shoe prints that were tracked to the back door. She wondered if these were the father’s prints after he discovered his daughter on the kitchen floor. Why didn’t the prints lead to the kitchen phone first? Maybe he had a cell phone on him, and felt like he needed air. She placed evidence tags by the shoe print markings, and took photographs of them.

She then started dusting the counter tops for finger prints, and came back with about a dozen prints. She pulled the finger prints up with her tape, and continued to finger print the table and the chairs. The chair that was flipped over had about five prints and a dozen partials. The table had a few prints, but the other chairs had a few partials. She collected all the prints, and moved on to the broken plate on the floor. She could not find any prints on the broken shards of the plate. She then started dusting the sliding glass door, and found about five prints on the glass, and three on the handle. She collected the prints, and put them with the other prints she had collected.

She was nearly finished in the kitchen when Nick came rushing into the kitchen, and carefully made his way outside. She saw him inhale the fresh air, and sit down shakily like he was about to pass out.

She immediately walked to the door, and knew he was not doing well. “Nick?” She got no response from him. She walked outside, and stood in front of him. “Nick,” she said cautiously as she kneeled down to be at his level. She noticed that he looked at her, but was still very shaky. “Nick, breathe out of your mouth.” She smiled at him, and put her hand on his knee. She knew the case had to be really rough on him, and she feared what she would see upstairs. “Do you want to talk about it?” She carefully asked him. He shook his head no. “Okay, I want you to sit out here for a moment, and then call David again. I will go process the other two upstairs,” she said as she patted his knee. When she stood to go, he grabbed her arm. She turned back, and for some reason she had the impression that he did not want her going upstairs.
 
"Nick," Catherine called softly from behind him, and he knew he probably had worried her. "Nick," He was shivering, the air a lot colder here than the city. He his breath was shaky and he had lost control of his breathing. Nick looked up and there was Catherine, kneeling before him, bright big eyes dancing in the glow from the kitchen. "Nick, breathe out of your mouth." She smiled and he tried to smile back, but he was still overwhelmed by the scene upstairs. Then he felt some pressure on his knee and his eyes danced sideways to see her hand gently resting there, her body so close to his, like at the bar earlier...He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly closing his eyes, head leaning down. "Do you want to talk about it?" Abruptly he shook his head, horrified that he might start to get upset and be pushed off the case. Hey, everyone else has hard cases, but they pull through it until the end, so why should he get emotional? "Okay, I want you to sit out here for a moment, and then call David again. I will go process the other two upstairs," He felt her hand pat his knee comfortingly and stood when the words sunk in. No, he couldn't let her see without him, she'd freak and then both of them would be shut off and probably told to go to counseling by Grissom. Besides, she'd need some support to get through... His eyes shot open and he threw his arm out, grabbing her arm, her body turning back to him as he stood, shaking his head again but looking in her eyes this time.

"No, we'll do it together. I don't want you ending up like me. I'm fine, it was just a little gruesome and...strange. It was a little stuffy with the amount of blood, the metallic scent was just a little overwhelming. We'll do it together. Call David, I'll get started." He tried to force a smile, but it turned into one of those 'Grissom faces', this time, of slight empathy with the upward curl of the lips. Softly shaking his head, he gently patted her shoulder, rubbing it to show warmth toward her on this subject and walked past her back into the house.

Walking quickly through the kitchen he made his way back up the stairs, down the hallway, and back into the master bedroom where his kit lay at the end of the bed, Sandie's body even more heart-breaking than the first time he saw her. Removing his old gloves, he carefully applied a new pair and set his kit on the floor by the bed, leaning over the girl with his forceps in one hand and torch in the other. And with another shaky breath, he began to collect evidence and DNA from her body.
 
**Kind of long, should shorten up soon!!!**

Catherine watched after Nick in amazement. She loved the way he treated her, and she knew then what he meant to her. Every other man she had been with was the exact opposite of Nick, and a big part of her believed she was not good enough for him. Her past was a big nightmare filled with many mistakes dealing with men, drugs, sex, and basically her choices in life. She took in a deep breath realizing she had completely gone somewhere else.
She grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket, and dialed David’s number for the second time. Where the heck was he? “David, its Catherine! I needed you here like twenty minutes ago.” She was not happy with his response at all as her cheeks flared into a vibrant red. “David, then call the Doc, and tell him to get here pronto….we have three db’s over here. It’s a big mess here.” She hung up her phone, and went into the kitchen to grab her kit. Once upstairs, she noticed the smeared bloody print on the outside of the master bedroom door. She had also stared to breathe out of her mouth because the atmosphere upstairs had a deeper embedded metallic smell in the air. “Nick, I’m coming in.”

Even though Nick had warned her, she was not prepared for what she saw. Her face drained white as she noticed the little girl on the bed. Catherine immediately turned her face away trying to come to terms with what she just witnessed. The images of Sandra kept vividly popping fresh in her mind like she was witnessing some horror film that was on a dreaded repeat button. She needed air, and she carefully walked into the Master bath room without thinking to get away from the demonic scene in the Master bedroom.

Once inside the bath room, she started crying but it was quietly to herself. She did not want Nick to know she almost lost it. Her eyes now a much more vibrant hue took in the view of the bathroom. She was facing a window, when she heard Nick enter behind her. She had not seen the other horror that awaited her attention. She turned around, and that was when she saw the mother nailed to the wall naked. “Oh God, on my God,” Catherine cried as she placed a trembling hand over her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, and realized this was the worst she had ever seen. She could feel the bile rise to her throat as she thought about the vileness of the attack. She needed fresh air, and she pushed her way through the bathroom door. “I can’t…can’t do this,” she said in a shaky voice to Nick. She was trying so hard not to lose her cool in front of him. She never had before. She made her way to the bedroom door when she started crying out loud her hands covering her face. All she could think about was getting out of the house.
 
Where's the part about Sophia? I don't mind doing what was mentioned to me with that part of the story but am not quite sure where it's at.

Thanks.
 
toomuchovertime said:
Sofia, meanwhile, still nursing the coffee, walked out to the lab. She was about to start processing some evidence when her phone rang. "Curtis. Wait, what happened? Ok, be right there." It turned out Sofia was needed over at the Tangiers. There had been a homicide in the Presidential Suite. She was walking out to her car when something hit her hard on the head. She turned. Before she could react, she crumpled to the ground, and the world around her went pitch black.
Click to expand...

Warrick was heading out just behind her with Gris to check out a body in the desert, just outside the city itself. When he saw Sophia get hit, he pulled his gun on instinct, his gaze flicking between the scene and Gris.

(I'll stop there for now to wait and see because if someone else wants to temp Gris that's okay...would make me feel better playing with soneone anyway rather than on my own, though I guess I can try if I have to.)
 
((well, I guess I might as well attempt Gris))

Grissom looked up, the click of a cun cocking catching his attention and gazed forward. Setting his kit down quickly and pulling his gun, he quickly followed Warrick forward, watching the suspect looming over Sofia. A truck pulled into the parking lot and shone light onto the scene, and the quickly approaching CSIs. Worridly glancing up, the suspect caught sight of them, and Grissom watched him weigh the situation and pull a gun, training it on Warrick. Rapidly rushing against Warrick and pushing him against the building and behind some shrubs, the sickening ricochet of bullets on the pavement hitting behind him.

-------------------------------

"Nick, I'm coming in." He stood quickly from processing Sandra's body and turned to say, "Wait a minute, Cath," but it was too late. She had already entered the bedroom, her eyes turning glassy and emblazened upon the distorted body of the young girl before quickly turning her head and manuvering around the scene into the bathroom. "Catherine! No, not there!" He dropped the evidence bags into his kit and quickly steered around the bed and walked into the bathroom, avoiding the view of the mother. Apparently, she hadn't heard him, eyes gazing out of a room. "Catherine, just, just close your eyes and turn towards me." And yet again, she must not have heard him as she turned, eyes wide open, and faced the mother on the wall.

"Oh God, oh my God," Her eyes were flooding with tears and it broke his heart to see the same laughing woman from before breaking down in front of him. "I can't...I can't do this," She broke through his arms held out and he turned to see her storming from the bedroom, her sobs quite plainly heard.

"Catherine! Cath, wait!" He ran from the bathroom, trailing on Catherine as she ran down the stairs and he followed, almost tempted to just jump the railing, but he remembered that they still hadn't printed it yet, the suspect might have touched it. Running faster, he finally jumped the last four stairs and landed shaky, but nonetheless reached out and grabbed her arm, sharply turning her towards him. Her chest rose and fell quickly and she kept her eyes closed. Pulling her to him slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, whispering in her ear. "Shhh, shhh Cath, it's all right. I tried to stop you, I didn't want you up there. You don't have to go back up, I promise. Shhh, Catherine it's all right. You don't have to go through that." Rubbing a hand comfortingly across her shoulder blades and another cradeling her head, he just hoped he was doing something right tonight.
 
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