Jane Doe - by ljordyn23

He’d never been afraid of a woman, until this one. He’d known the first time he had looked into her eyes when he had checked her into the hotel that she could and would kill at any moment and for any reason, without a second thought. He was sure she’d killed before and would kill again.

She had the eyes of a killer, cold and calculating. She had looked around the hotel lobby, missing nothing and filing every minute detail in her mind for the future. In spite of the heat of the afternoon, he had felt a sudden chill. It was the sudden chill of fear. A fear he’d never felt before and hoped to never feel again.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Grissom stepped out of his Tahoe. Spotting Catherine, he walked over to her.

“What do we got?” He asked.

Catherine said nothing, pointing in the direction everyone seemed to be looking. He saw a large German Shepherd covered in blood, standing guard over the body of a woman.

“Every time we try to get closer, the dog tries to bite us,” Catherine said.

Grissom looked closer at the body of the woman.

“She’s still breathing,” Grissom said in surprise.

“Yeah, but we can’t get to her. We’re waiting on animal control.”

Grissom started walking to the woman.

“Griss, that dog’ll bite you,” Catherine warned him.

Ignoring her, Grissom continued to approach the woman. The dog started to growl.

“It’s okay, girl,” Grissom said softly to the dog. “I just want to help her.”

The dog stopped growling, but continued to eye Grissom warily. Grissom extended his hand toward the dog. The dog limped to Grissom, sniffed his hand, and then licked his hand weakly.

“Good girl,” Grissom said, petting the dog’s head gently. He gestured for the paramedics to come to the woman. Grissom and the dog watched as the paramedics quickly placed the woman on a stretcher, carrying her to the ambulance.

“Catherine, go to the hospital with the woman,” Grissom said, looking over his shoulder. “See what you can find out about her.”

Catherine nodded, quickly getting into her Tahoe to follow the ambulance.

Warrick walked over to Grissom. “What are you gonna do with that dog?” He asked.

“I’m taking her to a vet. Until I get back, you run the crime scene,” Grissom replied.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Hours later, Catherine’s cell phone rang.

“Hello,” she said.

“How’s the woman?” Grissom replied.

“In a coma. She has a pretty bad head injury. The docs aren’t sure if she’ll make it.”

“She’s evidence, Cath. All we really have right now.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve already done an initial exam. She has a lot of cuts and bruises. No skin or anything under her fingernails. I haven’t found any defensive wounds, but the ER doc thinks she was beaten. What’d you find at the crime scene?”

“Not much. A lot of blood, probably hers and the dog’s. We didn’t find a purse or anything. You find any ID on her?”

“Nothing. What about the dog?”

“I took her to a vet,” Grissom said. “She’s in pretty bad shape. Somebody shot her.”

“Poor thing.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell Brass to get someone to check out missing persons reports—see if we can find out who she is.”

“You want me to stay at the hospital or what?”

“Stay if there’s anything else you think you can find out about the woman. If not, come back to the crime lab. I’m on my way there now,” Grissom said.

“Okay. I’ll leave word at the nurse’s station to call me if our Jane Doe wakes up.”

“Good,” Grissom said his voice sounding tired. “I hate Jane Does.”

“Yeah, we all do, Griss.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

That afternoon Grissom walked into the ICU at Desert Palm hospital.

“Hi, Gil. You here to see that Jane Doe?”

"Yeah. How’s she doing Angie?”

“She seems to be doing better. The doctors think there’s a good chance she’ll come out of the coma. If she does, she probably won’t even have a scar on her head. Dr. Fowlkes is really a miracle worker in plastic surgery. You want to see her?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me,” Angie said, smiling at Grissom. “I haven’t seen you much since I got my nursing license. Seems weird since I saw you nearly every day for breakfast when I was waitressing.”

“True. If you didn’t do such a good job keeping your patients alive, we might see more of each other."

Angie smiled, shaking her head. “Let’s go see your Jane Doe.”

Grissom followed Angie to the area where the Jane Doe was lying. He looked closely at the woman in the bed. She was beautiful. She had long golden brown hair. A few stray curls had escaped from whatever was pulling it back and were framing her rather angelic looking face. He stood staring at her in fascination until Angie broke up his reverie.

“Are you going to examine her?” Angie asked. “I should probably stay if you are—hospital rules, you know.”

“What?” Grissom said. “Oh right. I just want to sit here with her for a while if that’s okay.”

“Sure. You might try talking to her. That’s supposed to help people in comas.”

“I will.” Grissom said, looking back down at the woman in the bed.

Grissom sat down in the only chair in the ICU cubicle, near the bed. He looked intently at the woman. She really was beautiful, even with the large bandage on her forehead. He wondered what color her eyes were. Without thinking, he reached over and gently brushed a curl away from her face.

He had to find out who had done this to her. He knew that one of the first rules in his work was to never get personally involved. He had a feeling he’d be breaking that rule with this Jane Doe. If he did, he knew Sara would give him hell for it, as many times as he’d told her not to do the same thing. She still had a hard time not getting too involved with crimes against women. That’s why he had sent Catherine to examine the woman instead of Sara. He knew Sara still went to visit the last woman they’d found alive in the desert.

Carefully, as though he was afraid he might break her, Grissom took the woman’s hand. Holding it gently, he began softly talking to her. He lost track of time, sitting and talking to the Jane Doe. Angie didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave, even after he’d been there several hours over the one-hour time limits for ICU visitors. She didn’t know Grissom well, but she sensed that it was probably as good for him to sit there talking to the woman as it was for the woman to have somebody talking to her.

Around 10pm, Angie went to ask Grissom if it was time for him to go to work.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize the time.” Grissom said, looking a little confused. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Angie, do you think it would be okay for me to come sit with her tomorrow. We don’t know if she has any family or anything and it seems wrong for her to be here all alone.”

“Yeah. I’ll leave a note for whoever’s on duty tomorrow to let you stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks Angie. I owe you one.”

“Hey, I’m doing this for her, not you.”

Grissom smiled and walked out of the ICU.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Three days later, Grissom was sitting tiredly at his desk in his office. They still couldn’t find anything out about the Jane Doe. There hadn’t even been a missing persons report filed.

Sara knocked on the closed door to Grissom’s office, poking her head in without waiting for a response.

“You really need to get some sleep, Griss.”

“I’m fine. You find out anything with Jane Doe’s fingerprints?”

“Nope. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that she doesn’t exist.”

Grissom frowned at her.

“So, Griss. I have a question,” Sara said. “How come you yell at me for getting too personally involved with victims, but you spend all afternoon sitting in the hospital with the Jane Doe and all night working on her case. Correct me if I’m wrong here, but aren’t you doing exactly the same thing you told me not to do?”

Before Grissom could answer, his cell phone rang.

“Grissom,” He said.

“Hi Gil. It’s Angie at Desert Palm. I thought you might want to know your Jane Doe just woke up.”

“Really that’s great!” Grissom said.

“Yeah, the doctors are in with her now. She’s alert and seems to be doing just fine.”

“Great! What’s her name?”

“Well, that’s the only problem. She can’t remember anything—who she is, where she lives, what happened the night she was injured. Pretty much nothing.”

“Damn,” Grissom said.

“Yeah. The one doctor I talked to said that amnesia wasn’t that uncommon considering the extent of her head injury. It’s rarely permanent though. He did say that she might never remember what happened that night. Guess that doesn't help your case does it?”

“No, but the most important thing now is that she’s okay.”

“Definitely. I should go. I just wanted to let you know. They probably won’t allow any visitors until the morning.”

“Okay. Thanks Angie.”

“Not a problem. Bye.”

Grissom put down his phone and looked up at Sara. “Jane Doe just woke up.”

“Great! So I guess she’s not a Jane Doe anymore.”

“Well, she has amnesia,” Grissom said.

Sara shook her head. “Well that’s helpful.”

Grissom frowned at her again.

“So are you going down to the hospital?” Sara asked.

“In the morning. In the meantime, we both have work to do.”

“Right,” Sara said, knowing she was not going to get an answer to her earlier question about Grissom’s personal involvement with this Jane Doe.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Later that morning Grissom and Brass walked into the ICU at Desert Palm. Grissom wasn’t thrilled that Brass had insisted on tagging along. He knew Brass needed to ask the Jane Doe questions, but it seemed to Grissom like Brass was intruding on something personal. He knew it didn’t make much sense, but he felt like he had some sort of connection with Jane, and this would be the first time he would be able to hear her speak. He didn’t really want Brass along.

“Hi Angie,” Grissom said seeing the pretty nurse at the nurse’s station. “You remember Jim Brass?”

“Sure,” Angie said. “Nice to see you again.”

Brass nodded, smiling at Angie. “Could we see the Jane Doe? We have some questions to ask her.”

“Sure, but she doesn’t remember anything. She’s moving to recovery soon, but the doctors don’t want her to get too upset over anything.”

“How’s she doing, Angie?” Grissom asked.

“Other than a headache and a lot of soreness, she seems fine—well, except for the fact that she has no memory.”

“That’s good,” Brass said. “It’s nice to work on a case with a live victim for a change. You want to take us to where she is? I don’t want to scare her or anything—she’ll probably be scared enough seeing someone like Grissom hovering around her.”

Grissom glared at Brass.

Angie smiled mischievously. “I don’t think most women would be too scared looking up to see Gil.”

Grissom, his face turning red, said, “Um, thanks, I think. Let’s go see Jane.”

Angie grinned. “Let’s go then!”

The three walked to Jane’s cubicle. Angie poked her head inside. “You awake?” she asked.

A soft voice from inside answered. “Yes, come in.”

The woman inside was sitting up in the bed. She smiled when she saw Angie.

“Are you up for some visitors?” Angie asked.

“Yes, who?” Jane asked.

“Remember the man from the crime lab I told you had been here everyday since you were admitted? He’s here and there’s a policeman who wants to ask you a few questions. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jane said smiling.

“Okay, boys,” Angie said, turning to Brass and Grissom who were still standing behind her. “She said you can come in.” Turning back to Jane, Angie said, “Remember, just press your call button if you need me.” Angie turned to walk back to the nurse’s station, first giving Grissom and Brass a warning look, reminding them not to do anything to upset the woman still in ICU.

Grissom and Brass walked into the cubicle, both smiling at Jane.

“Hello, miss,” Brass said. “We’re glad to see you awake.”

Jane smiled. “Thanks,” she said.

“My name is Jim Brass and this is Gil Grissom. You may recognize his voice—he’s been here every day talking to you when you were in the coma. You probably woke up to tell him to go away and leave you alone.”

Jane smiled again, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe,” she said.

Grissom just smiled, shaking his head. He’d finally found out the answer to something he’d been wondering since he’d first seen Jane Doe in the hospital. Her eyes were blue—a dark, deep blue that brightened when she smiled.

“Anyway,” Brass said. “We were hoping you might remember something—something to help us find out what happened to you.”

The light in Jane’s eyes seemed to dim. “No,” she said. “I don’t remember anything—not even my name.”

Grissom, noticing the tears beginning to form in Jane’s eyes, stepped forward. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure your memory will come back. Sometimes it just takes a little time.”

Jane smiled weakly at him.

“Would it be okay if we showed you a few pictures? Might jog your memory,” Brass said.

Jane nodded.

Brass took a few pictures from the folder he’d been carrying. All the pictures were from the place in the desert where they’d found Jane. They had taken some pictures during the day and some at night, not sure what time of day Jane had gone there.

Jane took the pictures, looking at each of them carefully. “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “Nothing looks familiar. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Brass said. I’m sure in a day or so you’ll start to remember things.”

Jane nodded, trying to smile, but failing miserably. A small tear escaped one of her eyes and rolled down her cheek. Her eyes were an even deeper blue now, darkened by her tears.

Grissom, looking down at Jane, felt as though his heart was breaking. He wanted to help her more than anything, but he didn’t know how. He knew how hard his team had been working and so far hadn’t found a thing. It was time to go back to the crime scene—start over if necessary.

“Well, thanks for looking at the pictures,” Brass said. “We’re going to go so you can get your rest. Gil, I’m going back to my office if you want to meet me there.”

Without waiting for a response from Grissom, Brass left. He thought he would let Grissom talk to the woman alone—see if she really didn’t remember anything. Brass knew people tended not to trust cops. He didn’t blame them. He could think of quite a few he didn’t trust himself. People tended to trust Grissom, on the other hand—especially women. Grissom seemed to have a sort of geeky charm that had a rather weird effect on women. Sometimes he suspected women wanted to see if they could corrupt that innocence Grissom seemed to exude. Brass shook his head. If Grissom could bottle that charm of his, he could make a fortune.

Back inside Jane’s cubicle Grissom stood awkwardly beside the bed. He couldn’t seem to think of a thing to say now that Jane was awake. He put his hands in his pockets, hoping Jane wouldn’t see how nervous he was to be alone with her.

Jane looked up and smiled slightly. She seemed a little more relaxed after Brass left. “Thanks for coming by to see me everyday,” Jane said shyly. “The nurses said your talking to me probably helped me out of the coma.”

Grissom shuffled his feet a little, still feeling nervous. “It was nothing,” he said, smiling a little half-smile. “I probably bored you so much you had to wake up to get me to stop.”

Jane smiled, her eyes beginning to brighten again. “What did you talk about that was so boring?” she asked.

“Bugs,” Grissom said smiling sheepishly.

“Bugs?” Jane said. “Oh my. That’s um, interesting. Do you talk about bugs often or am I just special?”

“Both,” Grissom said laughing. “I’m an entomologist. And you are special. You’re definitely not the kind of person I usually deal with.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re alive,” Grissom replied, his voice very serious in spite of the twinkle in his eye.

“Angie told me what you do for a living. She neglected to tell me you seem to have a talent for making a person’s head hurt.”

Grissom grinned. “Sorry, I didn’t know that. I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

“Well if you work with dead people all the time wouldn’t you be rather alarmed if they told you that you were giving them a headache?”

Grissom laughed again. “You have a point there.”

Jane laughed too, then winced as the laughter caused a sharp pain in her head.

Grissom, seeing the pain in Jane’s eyes said, “Are you okay? I’ll go get a nurse or someone.”

“No, it’s okay. It just kind of hurts to laugh.”

“I should go. You really do need to rest. I’ll probably be back tomorrow.” Grissom said, backing away from the bed and turning to leave.

“What’s your name again?” Jane asked.

“Gil. Gil Grissom.”

“Do you have to go?” Jane asked softly, a tremble in her voice.

Grissom could feel his heart breaking again. “No,” he said, walking back over to the bed and sitting down in the chair. He reached out and took one of her hands, holding it carefully in both of his. “But no more laughing,” he said.

Jane smiled weakly. “Deal,” she said. “Tell me more about bugs?”

“Okay,” Grissom said smiling. “But you’re probably going to regret that.”

Jane smiled, closing her eyes. She had no idea why, but she felt safe with this man. It was a feeling she wanted to hold close and never let go.

* * * * * * * * * * *

“We’re not going to find anything here,” Sara grumbled. “This is a complete waste of time.”

“You’d better not let Grissom hear you say that,” Warrick said.

Sara, Nick and Warrick were standing in the desert where they had found Jane Doe and the dog. Grissom was supposed to be meeting them there.

“We didn’t miss anything the first time. Grissom’s just obsessed with this case because of that woman,” Sara said, squinting at Warrick in the bright sun. “Do you always have to stand where I have to look directly into the sun to look at you?”

“Yes.”

“Hey guys,” Nick said walking over to where Sara and Warrick were standing. “Did anybody check the top of that cliff there?”

“No,” Sara said. “Why would we do that when the woman was beaten down here? Do you know how long it would take to climb up there with all our gear?”

“How do we know she was beaten down here?” Nick asked.

Sara, visibly frustrated, said, “Because…”

“Maybe we don’t know that,” Warrick said interrupting her. “Damn it, why didn’t we look up there? Grissom’s gonna kill me.”

“No he’s not,” Sara said. “There was no reason to look there. The crime scene is down here.”

“Maybe not. We’re going up. Nick, you up for a climb?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re both nuts. I’m staying here to wait for Grissom,” Sara said.

“Good,” Warrick said. “He’ll need someone to yell at when he gets here.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

Grissom never arrived at the crime scene. He’d lost track of time again talking to Jane. She had moved out of ICU, but she still couldn’t remember anything. She was sitting in a chair near the bed talking and laughing with Grissom, who was sitting in the other chair in the room. His cell phone rang.

“Grissom.”

“Where are you?” Warrick asked.

“What?”

“Crime scene, Jane Doe, looking for more evidence—any of this sounding familiar to you?”

“Damn,” Grissom said. “I guess I lost track of time. Are you still there?”

“Yeah, but we’re about to leave.”

Grissom winced. “What’d you find?”

“A lot,” Warrick said. “I screwed up, Griss. Where we found her wasn’t the crime scene.”

“What?” Grissom said. “No, wait. I’ll meet you at the crime lab. I’m on my way there now.”

Grissom pushed the “end” button on his phone, frustrated with himself. He started rubbing his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

“I was supposed to be somewhere,” Grissom replied.

“Oh, and you forgot?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe my memory problem is contagious,” Jane said teasingly.

Grissom laughed. “Possibly.”

“I guess you should go.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You’ll be back later?”

“Of course,” Grissom said. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeah. It’s a wonder they haven’t started charging you rent as much time as you spend here.”

Grissom grinned. “Well, maybe I should stop coming.”

“Don’t you dare!” Jane said laughing, playfully punching Grissom in the arm.

“I wouldn’t,” Grissom said smiling. “Maybe I’ll bring you something when I come back.”

“Ooo, I like presents,” Jane said. “At least I think I do.”

Grissom laughed. “I’ll be back.”

Jane smiled. “I’ll be here.”

Grissom smiled.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Grissom walked into his office to find Nick, Sara, and Warrick waiting for him. No one said a word. They knew better than to say anything to Grissom about Jane. Everyone had already told him it was stupid to get so attached to Jane and they knew he knew it, too—that’s probably why he got so mad any time anyone mentioned it.

“Sorry, guys. I lost track of time. What’s you find?”

“Well, we kind of have a new theory,” Warrick said. “We don’t think she was beaten at the foot of that small cliff where we found her. We think she fell off—well, more like rolled down—the cliff.”

“Really?” Grissom said. “Keep going.”

“We found a spot where it looks like a lot of blood seeped into the ground,” Nick said. “We think that’s where the dog was shot. We also found two guns. One was all messed up—looks like a bullet hit it or something like that. We lifted prints from both guns. Greg’s trying to get a match.”

“Good work,” Grissom said.

“Yeah right,” Warrick said. “If we hadn’t screwed up in the first place we might already have this case solved. It may be too late now.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” Grissom said. “We’ll just follow the evidence we have now and hope for the best. Let me know when Greg has something.”

Nick, Sara and Warrick walked out of the office. Grissom sat down at his desk, rubbing his forehead. He couldn’t blame his team for this. He knew it was his fault. He’d broken the rules by becoming too personally involved with Jane and now he was paying for it. The evidence had been compromised, out in the desert for at least five days. They might never solve the case because of his screw up. He’d been trying so hard to help Jane that he’d probably hurt her. He picked up a stapler from his desk and threw it across the room, furious with himself.