Rating: NC17... I didn't figure it would stay PG for long.
Archive: My site IrishDachsie's CSI Fanfiction. Anywhere else, ask first!!
Disclaimer: Same as always... they're not mine... no money...
Author's Note: Follow-up to MoaNO... so, I suppose this is the second installment of The Chronicles of Weevil *LOL*... which happens to be a joke started on Unbound by some very good friends... so, yeah... that said... here we go.
Summary: A second pregnancy in the Grissom household.
Chapter Twenty Four
Grissom walked back into Sara's room to find them both sleeping soundly. He just stood there for a few moments watching them. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he kissed them both before whispering Sara's name.
Her eyes fluttered open and she fought to focus her gaze. "Hm?"
"I'm going to take him, okay?"
She looked down at her sleeping son and furrowed her brow. "Where?"
"Just over here to the chair. We're not going far, I promise."
"Why are you taking him?"
He smiled as he picked the sleeping boy up. "Because, neither one of you can sleep a full night without moving, and I'm worried that he'll hit your incision..."
She nodded sleepily and yawned. She watched him sit in the chair and recline it, settling himself and Mikey, before she closed her eyes.
Mikey shifted in his father's arms and snuggled against his chest. His small fingers gripped Grissom's shirt. Grissom fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Brass stood behind the two-way glass and watched Marie Bitterman enter the interrogation room with her court-appointed lawyer. He turned his head towards the tall CSI standing beside him.
"So, what do you think, Warrick?"
"I think Grissom's going to be pissed that you did this without him here..."
Brass chuckled softly and shook his head. "I've already talked to him about it. He really shouldn't be here, he knows it, I know it, and... you know it."
"What were the doctor's reports on Michael's condition when they had him examined?"
Brass handed the folder to Warrick as he spoke. "He was well taken care of... no bruises, not even a scratch. A miracle for Michael, and you know it as well as I do..."
Warrick skimmed through the report and nodded in agreement. "What she did was a crime..." He turned his light eyes towards the detective. "But, I don't think she's a criminal, Jim. She needs help."
He waited for Marie and her lawyer to get settled and then sighed heavily. "Come on, let's get through this..."
They made the short journey to the interrogation room and walked through the open door. Brass sat directly in front of Marie, Warrick across from the lawyer.
Brass folded his hands on the table and took a deep breath. "Mrs. Bitterman, can you tell us exactly what happened?"
Marie's red-rimmed eyes darted back and forth between Brass and Warrick. "You know what happened, sir."
"Ma'am, we know that Michael Grissom was taken and then found in your home. We also know that you had the boy under the assumed name of 'Stevie'."
Marie looked confused for a second. "Isn't that all you need?"
Warrick leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "That's all we need for a conviction and to send you to prison. However, from the prescription bottles I found in your kitchen, I don't think prison is where you need to go."
Jim's eyes softened. "Just start from the beginning, Mrs. Bitterman. Start with your son, Stevie Bitterman."
A single tear rolled down Marie's cheek as she inhaled deeply.
Marie walked into her home, holding her two-month old son, to find her husband pinned to the wall by two police officers. "Tim!"
One of the officers turned to her and quickly ordered her out of the house. A few minutes later, she watched helplessly as the officers walked her husband out of her house and escorted him to the cruiser parked by the curb.
She found out later that he had been arrested and charged with being a key participant in a local drug ring. She was left to raise their only child alone.
Three months had passed and she had been coping remarkably well. Young Stevie Bitterman was a happy baby who was completely adored by his mother. She woke up at 6:22 that morning.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she walked down the short hall to Stevie's room. She smiled as she walked inside. "You let Mommy sleep all night. What a good boy you are!"
Her smile suddenly disappeared as she looked into the crib. "Oh my God!"
She picked him up, groaning as her mind registered the fact that his tiny body was far too cool. Grabbing the phone, she punched 9-1-1 into the handset.
The paramedics had arrived fairly quickly. There was nothing that they could do for the boy. She fell to the floor, clutching his teddy bear that had only one eye.
The second eye was found lodged in Stevie's throat when the autopsy was performed. The death was ruled accidental.
In the months that followed, she found herself in the psychiatrist's office watching him fill out several prescriptions. It seemed that the rest of her life was destined to be spent while heavily medicated.
Having Stevie back would make it all better.
Warrick's gentle voice broke the silence that followed her account of the last six months. "Ma'am, why didn't you tell your husband what had happened?"
She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "I didn't know how. Every time Tim asked about Stevie, I'd say he was fine... sleeping..." She shrugged her shoulders lightly.
Brass cleared his throat softly. "Mrs. Bitterman, how did you pick Michael Grissom to take Stevie's place?"
Her gaze dropped to the table, finding sudden interest in the pen resting there. "I saw them, the boy and his mother, at the park one day. And then, the older man... the father... he showed up. They looked so... happy. And... I saw that she was pregnant. Their happiness was what should have been in my life."
A cold chill raced down Warrick's spine. "So, because Sara Grissom was pregnant, you thought they wouldn't miss their son?"
"I watched them for a few months. And... one day I followed them home."
"How did you know that Mr. and Mrs. Grissom were going out that night?"
"I... I didn't. I drove by their house... and saw them leave..." She closed her eyes and gripped the pen. "That's when I decided to... to... take him. It wouldn't be long before they had another child anyway..."
The detective, the investigator, and the lawyer sat in stunned silence.
The nurse walked into the room to check Sara's vitals. She smiled when she saw the woman's husband sleeping in the reclined chair, cradling their son in his arms.
She stepped out of the room quietly and retrieved a fresh blanket from the linen closet in the hall. She made her way back to Sara's room, walking softly so as not to disturb either the man or the child.
As she draped the blanket over the sleeping twosome, Grissom opened his eyes groggily. The nurse offered him an apologetic smile.
"Didn't mean to wake you, Mr. Grissom. Just thought a blanket might make the little one a bit more comfortable."
Grissom tucked the blanket around his son and returned her smile. "Thank you very much..." His eyes cleared quickly as he glanced at Sara. "What time is it?"
The nurse looked at her watch. "Almost one..." Her gaze fell to the boy. "Will he need a bottle or anything?"
Grissom shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "No... he'll be fine. But do you think we might be able to get some soft scrambled eggs for breakfast?" He shifted his son slightly. "And... maybe a new diaper?"
The nurse chuckled as she nodded. Checking Sara's blood pressure, she glanced at Grissom. "Has she been resting tonight?"
Grissom nodded as he placed a kiss in Michael's hair. "Yes, she has..."
"Good. She hadn't been sleeping very well at all." She took the reading from the machine and wrote it down on Sara's medical chart. "And, that's the best I've seen her blood pressure since she was brought in."
Grissom's smile grew as Mikey's fingers gripped the front of his shirt and released it slowly. Mikey giggled lightly in his sleep. Grissom chuckled as he heard his son murmur, "bugs".
The nurse tilted her head slightly. "Did he just say... bugs?"
Grissom nodded. "Yeah, he loves them."
The nurse chuckled lightly as she left the room.
Brass leaned sat on the edge of the table and offered the lawyer a small smile. Marie Bitterman had been led back down the hall and placed in a holding cell.
"Look, Naomi... based on what your client told us, prison isn't the best place for her to be."
Naomi Bennington looked up at the detective and sighed. "And, what do you propose, Jim?"
"Definite psych evaluation. Possible long-term stay at Monte Vista... maybe a transfer to another facility as well. Depending on what the staff has to say..."
Naomi nodded slowly. "I'll go speak with her..."
Jim smiled at the woman as she stood up and walked to the door. "Hey, Naomi?"
She turned and looked at the detective, returning his smile. "Yeah?"
"Are... uh..." He chuckled nervously. "I'm sorry about dinner last night, I just... couldn't leave here with Mikey still missing."
"It's okay, Jim. I do understand..."
He slid off the table and inhaled deeply. "How about tonight?"
Naomi grinned. "Sounds nice, Jim. It does. Give me a call later, okay?"
Brass nodded quickly, his smile widening as Naomi Bennington made her way out of the room and down the hall.
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