What The Eyes Can't See
folder
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
2,180
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
2,180
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 7
My plot bunnies have been nutritiously feed. Thank you to those who have reviewed. I’m so happy that you are enjoying this fic.
Arrich from csi-fic-mature: lol, my mom says so too (though I think she is slightly biased). Thanks for the high praise.
Aiden Burn from fanfictiondotnet: I promise there will be tons of Warrick ‘stuff’ as soon as possible. I hope you will be patient with me as I slowly get there.
Underwater Owl: Yummm, my plot bunnies thank you. And don’t worry this is going to be a long one. I don’t think I’m capable of writing a short story lol.
AN: Okay, what was supposed to be a brief ‘flashback’ on Emily and an explanation on her abilities, turned out to be a chapter long. Than another chapter…and another…and…well, you get the idea. I totally blame the furry ankle biters for this, they made me do it. Either way, I hope you enjoy the next…um, several chapters despite that there will be very little CSI involved. But I do have good news…I have written and sent a total of twelve chapters to Elfmaiden to be beta’d. And I have at least three more chapters written and waiting to be sent (don’t want to overwhelm her lol). Thanks again to everyone who is reading and reviewing.
Chapter 7
For the next several days, Brian’s sole focus in life was Emily. His friends had returned to school the day after the funereal and Brian went to several meetings with his parent’s lawyers, who assured him of his and Emily’s future.
As expected, his parent’s had named him Emily’s guardian and had left them the house along with everything inside of it. Their parents had only had distant relatives so there would be no one to contest their wills. They had also left both a small trust fund, his active immediately while Emily’s would be issued to her when she turned 18. He tied up a few loose ends but overall his parents had hired reputable lawyers to oversee their estate, in the chance of their early deaths and they had made sure all the “I’s” had been dotted and “T’s” had been crossed.
Brian was exceedingly grateful that he wouldn’t have to worry about house payments nor child services attempting to take Emily away from him.
He decided to take several months away from school and live off the trust fund so that he and Emily could get to know each other. He felt it was time to learn about kids in general. He had taken Emily to the local library and while she sat quietly reading in the children’s area, Brian checked out several books on child rearing as well as books about children dealing with grief. He dove into the topic as if he were cramming for a final.
Emily exhibited many of the symptoms of a grieving child. She still hadn’t spoken a word to him directly and the only time he heard her voice was when he was awoken, in the dead of the night, by her screams.
The nightmares were the most horrifying. Most of the time she would wake screaming out for their parents, but occasionally she would awaken screaming what sounded like a random name. He never knew whom she cried for at those times and he could do nothing but hold her afterward, as she sobbed.
During the day, she kept to herself. Kindergarten didn’t start for another month so it was just the two of them. Brian was at a lost on what to do with the little girl. He didn’t know any of her regular habits and routines, which the books he had read explained how important they were to get back into. Most of the time, they would just read or watch cartoons together. He would take her out to the local park and try to encourage her to play with the other kids, but more often than not, she kept to herself. She preferred to swing on the play set alone and away from the other rambunctious five year olds.
Sometimes he would take her to a toy store and try to see what toys she would be interested in, but still Emily would show little reaction to the offerings provided to her. He could only guess which toys she might like and hoped that when Emily was more comfortable with him, she would let him know her preferences.
After a few weeks of silence, he thought about taking her to a psychiatrist but Emily didn’t want anything to do with strangers. One occasion, several days after he came to the decision to stay in Vegas, he decided to go out with a few old high school friends and had hired a babysitter.
When he returned, he found a distraught and screaming Emily hiding in the closet. The young teenaged babysitter was crying hysterically. The poor teenager didn’t know what to do so she had called her parents to come over and help with the crying little girl. This was what had ultimately sent Emily into the closet.
As soon as Emily heard the raised voice of her brother, who was trying to figure out from the babysitter and her parents what was going on, Emily had quieted and exited the small closet. She ran to her brother and literally launched herself into his arms.
With a now quiet Emily in his arms, the parents of the teenager had firmly stated that their daughter would no longer be available to baby-sit Emily. They left without glancing back and never requesting the night’s pay.
Sitting Emily down on the kitchen counter, Brian tried to get her to talk to him. She simply shook her head and reattached herself to Brian. He held her until she finally fell asleep.
That night, he came to the conclusion that Emily didn’t like strangers in her home or anywhere around her for that matter. So taking her to a psychiatrist was out of the question.
Reflecting back now, an older Brian, could clearly see the day that a small breakthrough came.
It had been two weeks before kindergarten would start, and he’d been worried. How would Emily react on her first day of school? Brian wasn’t worried about whether she would do well. Looking at the books she had been reading at the time, he could easily tell she was reading at a higher-grade level than most kindergartners. His concern was the newness of it all and with Emily being surrounded by strangers. If the babysitter incident was any indication, it was not going to go well.
He had been making lunch for Emily while she sat quietly at the table. It proved to be a rough day and Emily seemed to be all thumbs. She had dropped her glass of milk that morning and later had knocked into a table and broken a knick-knack that his mother had bought before Emily had been born. He never said anything to her; he simply cleaned up after her and went on.
She had been sitting at the table, painting with some old watercolors. She had a small palette, several large pieces of paper and a glass of water, for rinsing her brush. His back had been turned and he never noticed the worried looks that were sent his way from the little girl.
Emily had bitten her lip with worry. She knew it had not been a good day for her and her brother. She looked down at the painted drawing she had just finished. It was of her home and standing in front, were stick figures of her and her brother. They were holding hands and smiling with a bright yellow sun peeking out behind the house. She looked back up at her brother and decided to show him her masterpiece.
She grabbed the corners of the still wet page and got up from her seat. But as her hands holding the picture swept over the top of the table, her arm pushed the glass of murky water off and it fell to the floor.
Brian turned toward the sound of breaking glass, he sighed at the spilt water and broken glass all over the kitchen floor.
“Damnit, Emily,” he said, his exasperation clearly showing though he never raised his voice.
Grabbing a broom and dustpan, he walked over to the mess, without even looking at the little girl who stood amidst it.
He began to sweep up the broken glass when quiet sobs drew his attention. As he looked at his little sister, he was struck by the despair in her eyes.
“Emily, are you okay? Did you cut yourself?” he asked frantically, putting the broom down and reaching for the little girl, searching for injuries.
She shook her head and for the first time spoke, “Please.”
Her crying intensified. Brian picked her up and moved toward the living room, “What, Emily? Please what?”
He barely understood the words that were muffled by his shoulder, “Don’t leave.”
Tears welled in his eyes, “Oh, baby. I’m not leaving.”
Through sobs he heard, “Promise?”
“Yeah, Emily. I promise.” he held her while sobs continued to wrack through her small body. He sat softly on the sofa and held her for several moments.
When the sobbing had slowed to an occasional hiccup, he said, “Emily, please look at me.”
She pulled back slightly but not looking into his eyes.
He gently raised her face, smoothing back the hair that had escaped her ponytail, “Emily, I’m going to take care of you from now on. I’m not leaving no matter what happens, okay?”
It was clear from the expression in her eyes that she wasn’t convinced. He drew her back into his arms, “Emily, I wish you would believe me, sweetie. Why won’t you believe me?”
Once again, he barely understood the words muffled on his shirt, “I’m different.”
His eyebrows drew together in a frown, “Different? Emily, your not different…you’re just…just real sad because Mommy and Daddy aren’t here anymore.”
She shook her head and continued to cry softly against him. He held her until he felt her body relax. He continued to ponder what Emily had meant, but decided to overlook it as being grief in the little girl. Plus, she had finally spoken and for him, at that moment, it meant so very, very much.
Brian wouldn’t know what Emily had been talking about; when she said she was ‘different’, until about a month later.
Elfmaiden is the best beta in the world. And if you enjoy this story (or even if you don’t and want to really read quality fiction), please go and read her stories at www.mystifyingdreams.com
**Remember, plot bunnies like to feed on ankles unless properly feed with nutritious reviews and feedback. Please help save my ankles…I need them…Take a moment to review. Thank you to all who continue to save my ankles.**
Arrich from csi-fic-mature: lol, my mom says so too (though I think she is slightly biased). Thanks for the high praise.
Aiden Burn from fanfictiondotnet: I promise there will be tons of Warrick ‘stuff’ as soon as possible. I hope you will be patient with me as I slowly get there.
Underwater Owl: Yummm, my plot bunnies thank you. And don’t worry this is going to be a long one. I don’t think I’m capable of writing a short story lol.
AN: Okay, what was supposed to be a brief ‘flashback’ on Emily and an explanation on her abilities, turned out to be a chapter long. Than another chapter…and another…and…well, you get the idea. I totally blame the furry ankle biters for this, they made me do it. Either way, I hope you enjoy the next…um, several chapters despite that there will be very little CSI involved. But I do have good news…I have written and sent a total of twelve chapters to Elfmaiden to be beta’d. And I have at least three more chapters written and waiting to be sent (don’t want to overwhelm her lol). Thanks again to everyone who is reading and reviewing.
Chapter 7
For the next several days, Brian’s sole focus in life was Emily. His friends had returned to school the day after the funereal and Brian went to several meetings with his parent’s lawyers, who assured him of his and Emily’s future.
As expected, his parent’s had named him Emily’s guardian and had left them the house along with everything inside of it. Their parents had only had distant relatives so there would be no one to contest their wills. They had also left both a small trust fund, his active immediately while Emily’s would be issued to her when she turned 18. He tied up a few loose ends but overall his parents had hired reputable lawyers to oversee their estate, in the chance of their early deaths and they had made sure all the “I’s” had been dotted and “T’s” had been crossed.
Brian was exceedingly grateful that he wouldn’t have to worry about house payments nor child services attempting to take Emily away from him.
He decided to take several months away from school and live off the trust fund so that he and Emily could get to know each other. He felt it was time to learn about kids in general. He had taken Emily to the local library and while she sat quietly reading in the children’s area, Brian checked out several books on child rearing as well as books about children dealing with grief. He dove into the topic as if he were cramming for a final.
Emily exhibited many of the symptoms of a grieving child. She still hadn’t spoken a word to him directly and the only time he heard her voice was when he was awoken, in the dead of the night, by her screams.
The nightmares were the most horrifying. Most of the time she would wake screaming out for their parents, but occasionally she would awaken screaming what sounded like a random name. He never knew whom she cried for at those times and he could do nothing but hold her afterward, as she sobbed.
During the day, she kept to herself. Kindergarten didn’t start for another month so it was just the two of them. Brian was at a lost on what to do with the little girl. He didn’t know any of her regular habits and routines, which the books he had read explained how important they were to get back into. Most of the time, they would just read or watch cartoons together. He would take her out to the local park and try to encourage her to play with the other kids, but more often than not, she kept to herself. She preferred to swing on the play set alone and away from the other rambunctious five year olds.
Sometimes he would take her to a toy store and try to see what toys she would be interested in, but still Emily would show little reaction to the offerings provided to her. He could only guess which toys she might like and hoped that when Emily was more comfortable with him, she would let him know her preferences.
After a few weeks of silence, he thought about taking her to a psychiatrist but Emily didn’t want anything to do with strangers. One occasion, several days after he came to the decision to stay in Vegas, he decided to go out with a few old high school friends and had hired a babysitter.
When he returned, he found a distraught and screaming Emily hiding in the closet. The young teenaged babysitter was crying hysterically. The poor teenager didn’t know what to do so she had called her parents to come over and help with the crying little girl. This was what had ultimately sent Emily into the closet.
As soon as Emily heard the raised voice of her brother, who was trying to figure out from the babysitter and her parents what was going on, Emily had quieted and exited the small closet. She ran to her brother and literally launched herself into his arms.
With a now quiet Emily in his arms, the parents of the teenager had firmly stated that their daughter would no longer be available to baby-sit Emily. They left without glancing back and never requesting the night’s pay.
Sitting Emily down on the kitchen counter, Brian tried to get her to talk to him. She simply shook her head and reattached herself to Brian. He held her until she finally fell asleep.
That night, he came to the conclusion that Emily didn’t like strangers in her home or anywhere around her for that matter. So taking her to a psychiatrist was out of the question.
Reflecting back now, an older Brian, could clearly see the day that a small breakthrough came.
It had been two weeks before kindergarten would start, and he’d been worried. How would Emily react on her first day of school? Brian wasn’t worried about whether she would do well. Looking at the books she had been reading at the time, he could easily tell she was reading at a higher-grade level than most kindergartners. His concern was the newness of it all and with Emily being surrounded by strangers. If the babysitter incident was any indication, it was not going to go well.
He had been making lunch for Emily while she sat quietly at the table. It proved to be a rough day and Emily seemed to be all thumbs. She had dropped her glass of milk that morning and later had knocked into a table and broken a knick-knack that his mother had bought before Emily had been born. He never said anything to her; he simply cleaned up after her and went on.
She had been sitting at the table, painting with some old watercolors. She had a small palette, several large pieces of paper and a glass of water, for rinsing her brush. His back had been turned and he never noticed the worried looks that were sent his way from the little girl.
Emily had bitten her lip with worry. She knew it had not been a good day for her and her brother. She looked down at the painted drawing she had just finished. It was of her home and standing in front, were stick figures of her and her brother. They were holding hands and smiling with a bright yellow sun peeking out behind the house. She looked back up at her brother and decided to show him her masterpiece.
She grabbed the corners of the still wet page and got up from her seat. But as her hands holding the picture swept over the top of the table, her arm pushed the glass of murky water off and it fell to the floor.
Brian turned toward the sound of breaking glass, he sighed at the spilt water and broken glass all over the kitchen floor.
“Damnit, Emily,” he said, his exasperation clearly showing though he never raised his voice.
Grabbing a broom and dustpan, he walked over to the mess, without even looking at the little girl who stood amidst it.
He began to sweep up the broken glass when quiet sobs drew his attention. As he looked at his little sister, he was struck by the despair in her eyes.
“Emily, are you okay? Did you cut yourself?” he asked frantically, putting the broom down and reaching for the little girl, searching for injuries.
She shook her head and for the first time spoke, “Please.”
Her crying intensified. Brian picked her up and moved toward the living room, “What, Emily? Please what?”
He barely understood the words that were muffled by his shoulder, “Don’t leave.”
Tears welled in his eyes, “Oh, baby. I’m not leaving.”
Through sobs he heard, “Promise?”
“Yeah, Emily. I promise.” he held her while sobs continued to wrack through her small body. He sat softly on the sofa and held her for several moments.
When the sobbing had slowed to an occasional hiccup, he said, “Emily, please look at me.”
She pulled back slightly but not looking into his eyes.
He gently raised her face, smoothing back the hair that had escaped her ponytail, “Emily, I’m going to take care of you from now on. I’m not leaving no matter what happens, okay?”
It was clear from the expression in her eyes that she wasn’t convinced. He drew her back into his arms, “Emily, I wish you would believe me, sweetie. Why won’t you believe me?”
Once again, he barely understood the words muffled on his shirt, “I’m different.”
His eyebrows drew together in a frown, “Different? Emily, your not different…you’re just…just real sad because Mommy and Daddy aren’t here anymore.”
She shook her head and continued to cry softly against him. He held her until he felt her body relax. He continued to ponder what Emily had meant, but decided to overlook it as being grief in the little girl. Plus, she had finally spoken and for him, at that moment, it meant so very, very much.
Brian wouldn’t know what Emily had been talking about; when she said she was ‘different’, until about a month later.
Elfmaiden is the best beta in the world. And if you enjoy this story (or even if you don’t and want to really read quality fiction), please go and read her stories at www.mystifyingdreams.com
**Remember, plot bunnies like to feed on ankles unless properly feed with nutritious reviews and feedback. Please help save my ankles…I need them…Take a moment to review. Thank you to all who continue to save my ankles.**