Title: Into the Fire
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Thanks to dagsrommer for the help with Norwegian mythology!
Summary: Nick is still dealing with the after-effects of his burial alive, and it isn't that long before he finds himself in another dangerous situation. Only, this time Greg is with him.

***

Nick Stokes stretched his arms across his head, pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes, and yawned loudly. "Face it, G, we're lost."

From the opposite side of the Tahoe Greg Sanders shook his head over the map he was reading, laying it out on the bonnet. "Nuh-uh. I know exactly where we are."

"Oh, really? Where are we then?"

"I've got it narrowed down. We're somewhere in Nevada."

Nick snorted, and kicked the dirt at his feet.

"Don't sweat it, Nicky. I'll get us out of here. I was born with a natural sense of direction."

"I hope it's not like your natural sense of style."

Greg looked down at himself, attired in the uniform the Las Vegas CSI department. "True, I'm not shining my own light at the moment, but we are at work. Besides, you said I looked good last night." He grinned wickedly at his still-secret partner.

Nick smiled back at him. "But I always have to tell you you look good. Otherwise you would do that sulky-puppy face."

Greg folded up the map, his eyes drooping in the same direction as his mouth. "What sulky-puppy face?"

Nick mugged his expression back at him. "That sulky-puppy face!"

Greg smiled at him. "Well, who could resist that?"

Nick returned his smile. "Stop distracting me."

"Distracting you?" Greg turned to the map once more, and pretended to laboriously study it. "I am trying to read a map here."

Nick rubbed at the back of his neck, as he could feel the sun starting to scorch it already. "It's gonna be a hot one today."

"It's always a hot one." Greg replied, without looking up from the map. "I thought it was meant to be about twenty degrees cooler in the mountains?"

Nick stared at his feet, suddenly frozen. On automatic pilot, his mouth stammered out what he had been thinking before his gaze was averted. "I-I don't think there's much difference between 90 and 110 degrees, man."

Ants.

Everywhere.

They were swarming in long lines and in tight circles, mere centimetres from his boots. They climbed over each other, scurrying in and out of their mounded homes in the dirt. They appeared hungry. Angry.

Nick lifted his foot, and brought it down in the centre of the closest mound. It crumbled easily, sending the inhabitants fleeing. Some towards him. Nick began to stamp at the front ranks of the invaders, his mind swinging into a strange hybrid of self-protection and vengeance, but they kept coming. They just kept coming, like they did before...

Sweat was running down his brow as he backed away, his breathing forced and painful. The sweat stung his eyes, and he stumbled badly, only to be caught in a pair of thin, yet surprisingly strong arms.

"Hey... hey." Greg whispered against his ear. "You're okay."

Nick clutched at the hands encircling his waist.

"Steady, Nicky."

Nick leaned against him. "T-they were everywhere..."

"I know." Greg said hoarsely, wishing he could reach into Nick's brain and tear away the offending memories which still had the power to paralyse him. He began to lead him away from the small area of ant-mounds, back towards the car.

Nick leaned his forehead against the roof, and even though it seared into his skin due to the heat from the sun, he found it comforting. It was a pain he could stop immediately, the one pain he had control over. Not like the memories of the green box in the earth and the unwelcome visitors that swarmed in through the cracks. He felt Greg's hand slide up and cup the back of his neck, where his new grown-out hairstyle covered some of his more visible scars from the ant-bites. Greg's touch was cool, in spite of the heat, a balm.

He shuddered. "I'm sorry."

Greg was astounded. "Sorry? What the hell are you sorry for?" He turned Nick around to face him.

Nick couldn't meet his eyes. "For freaking out. I feel like a damned idiot."

Greg tenderly lifted Nick's jaws with his fingers, so their eyes met level. "You are not an idiot. Don't you remember what I was like after the lab explosion? The day they were detonating the old hotel, and I hid in the robe in my apartment? You wouldn't let me feel like an idiot."

"If I remember, you still felt like one anyway."

"Well, I know better now. We'll get through it, together. Just like we did with the explosion." He drew Nick into his embrace, and Nick buried his head into Greg's neck. "That's what you told me, and that's what I'll tell you now. After all, you know everything."

He could feel Nick barking out a laugh against him. "You shit."

"Don't I know it."

Nick straightened up to look at him. "Thanks, man."

He playfully punched him, with mock indignity. "Thanks, man?"

"Well, I'm not calling you pookie."

"I can't believe I even heard you say the word pookie."

"You'll never hear it again, I promise you. Babe."

Greg bit the bottom of his ear lightly. "That's more like it."

They held each other, just simply standing against the car. Greg looked out into the valley below them and the mountain above them. "This is nice."

"It is."

"I didn't just mean the view."

Nick scratched at Greg's shoulder fondly. "Neither did I."

"Maybe we should get lost in the mountains more often. There's something about kissing in the fresh air..."

"That's the good thing about the mountains. They're empty."

Greg nodded, and pulled away. "Yeah."

"Greg---"

"We better not forget we have a job to do." This time it was Greg who wouldn't look him in the eye, and he moved away to the other side of the car.

Nick cursed under his breath, and reached for the passenger-side door-handle. He climbed into the seat and wiped at his brow. He could see Greg through the windshield, chasing the map through the scrub. He had obviously dropped it when he had noticed his own distress, and it had blown away a little distance off.

It was just like Greg to drop everything when he thought Nick needed him. And how had Nick reacted? By upsetting him and not indulging a sweet fantasy. A fantasy that Nick would love to subscribe to as well, but life wasn't a Hallmark movie. At least not their lives anyway, lives filled with corpses, stalkers, explosions and live burials. But there was the sweet amongst the pain as well. And Nick wasn't sure why he couldn't focus on that sweetness for the moment, and cling onto that instead of pushing Greg away at times.

Greg gave a triumphant whoop in the distance as he managed to swoop upon the errant map. Nick smiled, leaned across and turned on the ignition. The air-conditioning kicked in and he swivelled one of the vents so it would cool his face and dry the sweat.

The driver's door was thrown open, and a sweaty and flushed Greg jumped in. "Got it."

"Listen, Greggo... about before---"

"Nothing to worry about, Nicky." Greg tried to fold the map back up, but it was hopelessly out of control.

Nick grabbed the map and threw it in the backseat. "I want the same thing you want, Greg, you know that."

"A cheeseburger and a cherry shake? We'll have to wait until we get back to Vegas for that."

Nick laughed, and grabbed him by the neck, drawing him closer. "I want to be us, together, free out there. You know that."

"I do. And I have wonderful visions of us telling people at work, and everyone will be happy, and there'll be cake and balloons, maybe even a banner... if they really want to go all out, maybe a small parade... but you know what, Nicky? I'm just happy with you. I won't lie, because I would never lie to you... of course I would like it... but I just want you. Not to stroke your ego, but you're worth it."

Greg could always get to Nick when he did his nervous rants. "I wish I could give you more than that at the moment."

"Okay, the burger and the shake are on you."

Nick bit his lip.

"We've been together for almost three years. This is the long haul, Nicky."

Nick leaned in and kissed him gently. "Not to stroke your ego, but you're worth it."

Greg blushed, and started the car. "We have a crime scene to process. You try and read the map."

The car left the shoulder of the road, with the two occupants bickering lightly over map-reading abilities and who actually had a natural-born sense of direction.

There was no way they could have seen the small wave of flames licking the brush to the left of them. It was out of their line of sight, and it had to get a lot worse before it would be visible to the naked eye.

***

Nick snapped his cellphone shut. "I can't get any reception."

Greg peered through the top of the windshield. "The mountains must be getting in the way. When it levels out a bit we'll try it again."

"Brass is going to kill us."

"I don't think he's going to kill us for getting lost."

"But we're supposed to be reasonably intelligent men..."

"Are you stressing the reasonably for my benefit?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "...and I would say that should mean we can read a map and get to a crime scene without any trouble. They'll think we're idiots."

Greg gave him a quick look of concern. "No, they won't, Nicky. They'll just think that we got lost, and it can happen to anybody."

Nick's jaw was taut. "I just don't want anyone thinking I'm stupid."

"Well, we'll tell them it's my fault. They'll have no problem believing that." Greg said, in an attempt to keep it light. "And I have no problem with them thinking I'm stupid."

"Don't, G." Nick growled.

"Don't what?"

"Put yourself down."

Greg shifted down a gear. "What, because you don't want the competition?"

"I'm not putting myself down."

"Neither am I. Because I don't believe I'm stupid."

Nick stared out the window, and the frustrated feeling began to rise in his throat again. "And you think I do?"

Greg sighed heavily, not wanting to get this deep and heavy before a case – and also not wanting to upset Nick. But he guessed it was his place and his right. "I think you're still recovering, and you're not thinking very highly of yourself because of what happened to you. You had no control over what happened. But now you have to take control back."

Nick didn't answer, he just continued to stare out the window.

"Everybody is just glad you're back with us, Nicky."

"Then why are you the only one treating me like before?" Nick said softly, so soft that Greg barely heard him.

"Everyone just wants to see you well. They're scared of pushing you. And to tell you the truth, I am scared of pushing you as well."

"You shouldn't be scared. You know exactly what it feels like."

"Nicky, that's why I am scared." Greg pulled over to the shoulder again. "Because I knew what I felt like after the lab exploded. But luckily I had you." Frustrated, he banged the steering-wheel. "I still have no idea where we are!"

"I hope you're only talking about our location." Nick made a feeble attempt at a joke.

Greg appreciated the attempt. "Only if you put on Keith Urban within the next two hours."

Nick smiled at him, and Greg was relieved to see that it was reaching his eyes this time. It wasn't a patented Nicky Stokes I'm-fine-stop-asking-see-how-I'm-smiling grin meant to trick you into leaving him alone.

Nick pored over the map again. "The problem is there are too many dirt roads and walking trails. That's what is throwing us off."

Greg reached into his pocket and checked his cellphone. "Hang on, I'm getting one bar. I'll try Brass again."

Nick continued to look over the map while Greg dialled.

"Hey, Jim --- Jim! It's Greg... can you hear---" he snapped his cellphone shut. "It cut out. I'm not even sure he heard me."

"Are you still getting a signal?" Nick asked.

Greg shook his head. "It's dropped out again."

Nick pointed at part of the map. "I think we're here. So, according to where the body was found, Brass should be pretty close to this dirt road. We're going to have to cut across this trail to get there from here."

"We pretty much took the scenic route, huh?" Greg eased the park-brake off and they started driving again. "I am soooo hungry."

"Stop thinking about your stomach." Nick said absentmindedly, staring out the window into the valley below.

"I think I may have a stash in my bag."

"Your emergency stash?" Nick grinned. "I'm pretty sure you ate all of it when you were on the drowning case with Sara last week."

"Nah, I saved some."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Okay, okay, I restocked." Greg admitted sheepishly.

"Oh man, Greggo. I so don't want to work with you on a sugar high."

"Fine, we'll process the body and then I can eat."

"Then you won't be able to eat your cheeseburger."

"Have you ever known me to ruin my appetite by eating junk food beforehand?"

Sadly, Nick had not. Greg's ability to stuff vast quantities of food into his thin frame was a constant source of amazement to him.

Greg's cell began to ring. Nick reached over to answer it for him. "Stokes."

He recognised Brass' voice immediately, but the words were hard to define as the voice kept cutting out or was obscured by static. "Ni---, ----es a scrub--- we'll have ---- ----ate."

"Jim, I can't make you out. Repeat that?"

"There--- a---- Curtis--- ate---"

Exasperated, Nick interrupted. "You're cutting out, Brass! Look, if you can hear me, we got a little lost, but we're on our way. Probably only another---"

The signal dropped out. Nick tapped the phone against his head in frustration.

"At least he knows we're on the way." Greg shrugged. "But, hey, you told him we were lost!"

"Well, you're right. There are worse things to worry about."

"We won't be much longer."

Nick dropped Greg's phone back into the pocket of his vest. "I forgot how hazy the city could look from up here."

"That's pollution for you." Greg mused.

Nick's brow furrowed. "Hang on a minute, that's not haze." He leant forward and sniffed at the vent of the airconditioning. "Can you smell that?"

Greg's nose wrinkled. "Someone having a barbecue?"

"We're nowhere near the camping grounds. I think."

"What, you think it's a fire?" Greg's eyes widened, but he kept them on the road.

"Well, it's not uncommon. Especially not at this time of the year. No need to panic." Nick said soothingly.

"I'm not panicking!" Greg's hands tightened on the wheel, and Nick was concerned about how his knuckles had whitened due to the pressure exerted upon them.

"Uh---"

"Seriously! If I was panicking, I would be running around like a headless chicken, waving my arms in the air."

"We'll just get to the scene, take some photos, and get out of there." Nick said. "No harm, no foul."

Greg relaxed his grip upon the steering-wheel slightly. "No harm, no foul."

***

"Okay, I think we're finally getting there." Nick said gratefully as they passed a small, handmade sign for one of the walking trails closest to where the body had been discovered.

"We're fifty minutes later than we said we would be." Greg swerved to avoid a branch that was taking up a third of the road. "Is it just my imagination or is that haze following us?"

Nick looked in his side-mirror to the road between them. It was getting a little thicker, and although he felt a little level of adrenaline start to pump through his system, he had lived long enough in Vegas to know that scrub fires were common and rarely lethal. Fires that killed were usually started by other people, maliciously and often in order to cover up a crime. "No, you're imagining it." he lied, feeling guilty for doing so, but knowing it would be best to put Greg's mind to rest. Ants were Nick's current nemesis, but fire was Greg's longest-serving enemy.

He only had to be reminded of that with a single glance. As Greg drove, craning his neck to see the road up ahead but also watching the road behind, Nick could see the material of his vest and t-shirt shift over his skin. The mottled mix of red and white scars could be seen if you paid close enough attention. Greg was usually very self-conscious in covering them up as much as he could, although he claimed not to be. Nick could remember how raw and bloody they were when he was first released from hospital, and how he had cried face-down into his pillow the first time he had let Nick remove and change the bandages. How he shied away from Nick's touches there when they had started to heal properly and their relationship had become physical; that he couldn't even change his shirt in front of Nick for months because he didn't want to expose his back to him. And how he had wept once more in bed one night, when Nick had lifted his shirt away from his skin and tenderly kissed the rough patches as if he could make them smooth once more.

Nick reached out and tenderly stroked the back of Greg's neck with his thumb.

Greg shot him a quick look, then back to the road. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I'm happy we're working together today. It's been a while."

"Yeah, who would have thought there would finally be a reason why Ecklie deserves a Christmas card this year? I'll even give him one with Santa on it, not the stocking or ornament ones which usually get left for the less-liked." Greg laughed devilishly.

Nick pulled his hand away from his neck. "You gave me a stocking card your first year in the lab."

Greg was shocked. "I did not! Because from the first moment I saw you, I wanted to impress you. I gave you a Santa card. And I am sure it had a kitten on it as well, for extra cuteness points."

Nick grinned. "I know. I was testing you."

Greg was now impressed. "How did you remember that?"

"I keep all my Christmas cards, you know that."

"Still, that's good recall."

"Well, I treasure everything you give me."

"You're---" Greg didn't get to finish his sentence. As if in a dream, a black horse broke out of the scrub to the left of them. As Nick yelled out, Greg immediately yanked on the steering-wheel and slammed on the brakes. The Tahoe threw itself into a spin. One of Greg's hands slipped off the wheel and struck Nick in the stomach. Winded, he struggled to breathe while the cab reeled around him, pressing him back into his seat. Greg managed to regain the wheel and urge them away from the shoulder of the road that would have caused them to go into a ravine. They instead flew over to the side that offered flat land and an expanse of trees. Greg's foot on the brake was pressed right to the floor, but they were still going too fast for them to do anything but crash into the brush.

Their velocity slowed, but the Tahoe's journey was ended by the trunk of a tree. Although they didn't slam right into it, it still felt like it was a substantial crash to Nick. He put his arms out to steady himself, but before he could reach out to Greg he could only watch in horror at the second of impact; as Greg's body lurched forward, and his head smacked the windshield. Greg was then thrown back, blood already running from his scalp, and he fell back into his seat.

"Greg!" Nick fumbled at his seatbelt and unclasped it, moving over to check on his partner.

Greg moaned. "I didn't hit the horse, did I?"

Nick couldn't help but smile with relief that that was his first thought. He looked up briefly, and could see the horse---still running without a look back---further ahead on the road. "No, you didn't, G."

Greg's eyes opened, and he winced. "Are you okay, Nicky?"

"Yes, but Greggo, you're bleeding everywhere..." Nick reached into one of his vest pockets, and pulled out one of the bandannas he liked to keep on hand for dusty desert jobs. He mopped at Greg's forehead, but it didn't seem to staunch the flow.

"It's just a scalp wound." Greg said, pushing his hand away. "You know how they bleed. I'm fine."

Nick gently parted his hair. It was a slight wound, once it stopped bleeding it may not even need a stitch.

"Do I look good with red hair?" Greg joked, to put him at ease.

"You're a blonde through and through, G."

"Ouch."

"This day is just getting worse and worse." Nick sighed.

"Don't tempt fate to up the ante." Greg warned. "Come on, let's check out the car."

Nick opened his door, and rinsed water from his bottle through the bloody bandanna. He screwed the pink liquid out and pushed it back into his pocket. "Well, at least we have a really good reason for not being at the crime scene yet."

"Just keep focusing on the big picture, Nicky." Greg laughed, rubbing his forehead gingerly before opening his own door.

***

Nick crouched by the front of the Tahoe, running his hand over the grille. "Well, we haven't done too much damage." he shrugged. "We were pretty lucky, really. Good driving, G."

Greg took a swig from his water bottle, and wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Are you being funny?"

Nick shook his head. "Man, you must have gotten hit harder than you thought. Take a compliment." He stood upright, and rubbed at his chest. "Great left hook you've got there, though."

"Okay, you were trying to be funny with that one."

"Well spotted." Nick gave him a smile, but Greg looked too stressed to attempt to return one. Nick crossed to the back of the vehicle. "Problem."

"What?" Greg immediately demanded, jogging up to him. When he saw what Nick was pointing out to him, he exhaled bitterly. "Oh, crap."

The Tahoe's back wheels were buried halfway up to their rims in the loose sand on the edge of the road.

"Is it too late to try and grab that horse?" Nick asked.

Despite himself, Greg laughed. "That's a nice picture, cowboy. Us arriving at the crime scene on horseback. Brass and Curtis would have a field day with that."

Nick dropped to his knees. "Well, start digging then."

Greg placed his waterbottle on the roof of the Tahoe, and started scrabbling away at the dirt behind the right wheel while Nick did the same at the one on the left. After a few moments of digging with their hands and sweat pouring off them in small rivers, the wheels were completely exposed. Greg looked around them, and poked Nick on the shoulder to direct his attention to his right side. "Those rocks and dead branches should provide some traction."

While they started collecting the debris, Greg's mind began wandering. "Where do you think that horse came from?"

"There are several ranches around here, and some hotels as well. Hell, it could have been someone up here with their own horse for a ride."

"So why has nobody been along, looking for it?" Greg asked, wedging a sizeable branch beneath the wheel he was working on.

"This is a huge park, G. Who knows where it may have broken from?"

"It's just weird, that's all." Greg looked behind them. "And I swear that smoke is getting thicker." Unwillingly his mind flashed back to the feeling of glass beneath his body, the strain in his lungs as it was difficult to breathe, and the excruciating pain of sloughed and burnt skin at his back. He grimaced, and Nick reached out to take his hand.

"We're almost there, Greg." The gravity of the situation couldn't call for the usual loving nicknames. The use of this made Greg swallow hard around a lump in his throat, and nod, although he was beginning to get concerned about their predicament.

"Then let's get out of here." he said, finding his voice.

They stood, and Greg moved around to get in the cab. While he did so, Nick looked at the road behind them, which was beginning to be obscured by the thin layer of smoke covering it. Nick's nose began to wrinkle slightly as the acridity began to affect him, and he rubbed at it.

Greg turned the ignition over.

"Take it easy." Nick yelled above the noise of the engine.

Greg applied a small amount of pressure to the accelerator, and threw the car into reverse. Nick watched the wheels spin, and kicked at a branch to secure it further. The wheel caught, and the Tahoe began to climb out of its grave.

Nick stepped aside, and the cab slowly drew level to him. Greg reversed the freed car back onto the road and grinned at him, dried blood caking on his forehead. "Need a ride, cowboy?"

Throwing one last look at the encroaching smoke, Nick swung himself into the passenger side. "Floor it, G."

Greg didn't need to be told a second time.

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

Back in the crime lab, Gil Grissom was consulting one of his heavy tomes on human physiology in preparation for his testimony at an upcoming trial, when Catherine Willows knocked on his open door.

Grissom pulled off his glasses and chewed on the end of one of the arms. "Don't stand there on ceremony, Catherine. Come in."

She did so, and sat opposite him. "Gil, there's been a fire alert at Mt Charleston."

"Have we heard from any of the crew?" Gil's brow immediately creased as a hundred different scenarios began to flood his mind.

"We can't reach them on their phones. And they're not answering the scanners. But you know how reception is up there. I did manage to get through to the Forestry Service though, and told them of their location." Catherine wiped an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. "They're sending someone over to make sure they get evacuated."

Gil nodded. "Will you let me know as soon as we hear from them?"

"Of course." Catherine stood, and headed out the door but paused to turn back. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about just yet."

"Just yet?" Gil pushed his glasses back on. "I'm sure you're right. But I'm..." he trailed off, unable to voice what they were both thinking.

"You're thinking that we only just got him back." Catherine said, heavily.

Gil sighed. "I worry about all of you out in the field. But even more so when one of you goes back out just after a traumatic experience. I guess I was just hoping it would be a little bit longer before Nicky had to face another one."

"Perk of the job." Catherine said sardonically.

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

She sighed. "Sorry, I'm worried as well. But he has Greg with him, those two always seem to look out for each other."

Gil nodded. "They do."

"And Brass is there to keep them both in line."

"I know. And I know they can look after themselves. I'll just be happy when they're all back in the lab. It's my job to care for the people I send out there."

It went without saying. Catherine gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile, and then went back to work on her own case.

Gil continued to stare out the door, the book on his desk forgotten.

***

Greg threw the Tahoe into ‘park' and applied the hand-brake. "We'll have to walk the rest of the way there."

"At least we're here." Nick opened his door, and jumped out.

Greg checked his cellphone, while crossing to the back of the car. "Still no reception. And everybody else must have parked on a different trail."

"Well, at least the smoke isn't as thick here."

"I bet you it will be." Greg said grumpily, opening the back of the Tahoe and pulling out their kits.

"Glass half-empty there, is it, Greggo?" Nick playfully shoved him.

Greg looked at him, tried to offer a smile, but couldn't complete it – instead, giving a twisted frown. Nick watched him move down the trail, to a series of flags that had been tied to direct any personnel off the track and towards the body. His own worries had now evaporated with his attention being taken over by worries for his partner, who was now obviously being racked by his own memories of pain and fear.

Nobody else could understand this bond between them, how these events in their past had served to strengthen themselves yet at the same time set them apart from others. When Nick had been buried alive, it had brought him and Greg even closer together, because it only increased their understanding of one another. He knew exactly what Greg was feeling at this moment of time – the almost crippling flashbacks combined with an ingrained sense of duty to get the job done; and not to look bad or weak in front of anybody else, which meant he would be stoic and true in the face of anything that was thrown at him.

And it would only be in the dark, in the privacy of their home, that he would allow himself to break. It was a cycle they both shared.

Nick was going to allow him this time in which to distance himself, but it would be a different story when he got him back into the car. For now, they had a scene to process.

Greg suddenly stopped, and turned back to him. "Do you hear that?"

Nick fell into place beside him. "What?"

"Exactly. Where is everybody? The sounds of scanners? Talking?"

There was a growing sense of unease in Nick's stomach. He began walking again, and turned a corner to find the scene. Crime tape fluttered from various branches, but there was no body. No Brass. No Curtis. Nobody.

"They didn't wait for us?" Greg asked. "Did they process the scene?"

"I don't know." Nick uselessly checked his cellphone once more. No reception.

A loud buzzing from up ahead distracted their attention. A large-bottomed plane flew to their left, and as they watched it released a belly-load of water which rained upon an expanse of trees to their far left.

"Fire-fighter." Greg breathed. "This is not good."

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


Grissom liked the location of his office because he had a good view of the main doors, and he could watch the comings and goings of his staff. Not that he generally watched them to keep an eye on their locations or break times (as Ecklie tended to do with his shift crew); he mainly paid attention to the door so he could be aware when they returned from the field, and breathe with relief that he wasn't facing another situation like that of Holly Gribbs. The day she had died he had made a promise to himself that he would never lose another member of his staff again, and though at times he had come perilously close – Greg with the explosion, Nicky with his burial alive just to name two of the most extreme. Deep down he wasn't sure that it was a promise that could be kept forever, but he wouldn't let himself believe that.

He couldn't let himself believe that, or else it would be difficult to face going in to work each day.

The news of the fire in the mountains had spread amongst the staff, and although they were concerned they were not really worried yet for the safety of their co-workers. When something bad seemed to happen to one of them it usually came out of the blue, it was never something they had time to think about or prepare for. But there was a nervous energy in the air, which Grissom knew would only abate when those out in the field were present and accounted for.

By three in the afternoon, Grissom was on tenterhooks enough to leap out of his chair and be halfway out his office when the main doors flew open, and a flushed and haggard Brass entered with Curtis. Two EMTs followed, wheeling a gurney with a body bag upon it towards the morgue.

"Where the hell were Stokes and Sanders?" Brass demanded, without greeting.

Curtis blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. She also looked exhausted, and a smudge of smoke stood out on her pale cheek.

Grissom's face fell. "Did they not make it to the scene?" His gut immediately twisted.

Catherine, Sara and Warrick filtered out from the offices and labs they had been holed up in. Their faces were pinched with unease.

Brass immediately swung out of attack mode, and Curtis uncomfortably folded her arms across her chest. "They tried calling us at one point, but the reception cut out. I don't know if they were even aware of the evacuation."

"When they didn't turn up, and we were being pressed to leave by the rangers, we documented the scene as best as we could and thought we would accompany the bodies back here." Sophia explained, her voice husky from the small amount of smoke they had been exposed to while getting out of the mountains. "We had to leave via a different route to the one we entered, so there is no way we would have passed them."

Catherine spoke up. "I'm going to try their cells again."

Her reaction spurred Sara to nod. "I'll contact the rangers, see if they've heard anything."

Grissom nodded, and the two women shot off in different directions.

"There may not be anything to worry about." Brass said gently, trying to salve Grissom's disquieting countenance. "It was chaotic up there. Reception was inconsistent, there were people everywhere. They could have been found further up the road and told to leave immediately."

"Then why aren't they here?" Grissom didn't expect an answer, he just marched back to his office to start making his own enquiries.

Warrick, Brass and Curtis remained standing where they were – a shell-shocked triad beginning to understand the situation had just become a critical one.

***

Greg covered his mouth with his hand, and coughed violently.

Nick paused, and turned back to him. "Babe, are you okay?"

Greg's eyes were watering, he reached out to Nick to steady himself as he bent over, coughing again. Feeling useless, Nick rubbed Greg's back in an effort to settle him somewhat. Greg nodded, even though he was lying, and he knew Nick was aware of it.

His lungs were burning. Nick still seemed relatively unaffected by the thickening smoke, but Greg was struggling. He could taste blood at the back of his throat, and his breath was catching in the two damaged sacs in his chest. The smoke inhalation he had suffered from after the explosion had had a long-term effect upon his body – although day to day Greg didn't even notice it. Only in certain circumstances was he aware of the constrictions that could be placed upon his chest – once on a skiing trip he had taken during his recovery period in these same mountains, and right now. He had never even admitted it to Nick, because, well, he had never really had to.

"I'm okay." he croaked. "Let's just get to the car and get out of here."

Nick took Greg by the arm and helped him along the trail. Although the smoke was obscuring the scene, and it was given a confusing, diffusing glow from the afternoon sun they were still able to find their way because of the flags that had been planted by the local police.

"Not far to go, G." Nick said worriedly.

Greg nodded, as he was finding it too hard to speak.

The dark shape of the Tahoe began to loom out of the smoke. Nick opened up the back, and they threw their kits into it. Greg stumbled into the front seat, and Nick ran around to jump into the driver's seat.

As Nick threw the vehicle into reverse, Greg began another coughing fit which threw him forward. Nick grimaced, shifted into drive, and started the car rattling along the dirt road. He placed his hand on Greg's thigh to let him know he was there. Greg's breath rattled as the fit subsided.

"You okay?" Nick asked once again, hating to repeat himself, but he had to hear some sort of answer to steady himself.

"Fine. Be better when we're home." Greg gave him a brief squeeze on his hand as he then twisted around to reach for the bottle of water he had put in the back seat.

"We might have to make a stop off at work first." Nick grinned. "Let them know we're alive and all."

"Can't we just call them?" Greg made a feeble attempt at a joke.

Nick stared ahead of them at the road. "We're getting away from the smoke, at least."

Greg looked out the window. He was right, the smoke wasn't as bad back out on the main road, and his lungs were thankful for that as he started to breathe more evenly again. He unscrewed the bottle and took a large swig of the water, then passed it to Nick.

Nick took a healthy mouthful, and Greg took the bottle back off him and screwed the cap on. They had reached the main road again, and Nick was about to turn right to take them back the way they had arrived when a Forestry Services van appeared out of nowhere and pulled up swiftly beside them.

The driver's window rolled down, and an impossibly young-looking ranger stuck his head out. "Are you two the CSIs?"

Nick shot a puzzled look at Greg, and then directed his attention back to the ranger. "Well, we are CSIs."

"Your bosses are driving our office crazy trying to track you guys down."

"There's no reception on our cells." Nick explained, pulling his sunglasses on top of his head. "We had an accident on the way here, and when we finally arrived there was nobody at the crime scene."

"Literally." Greg muttered, and Nick was glad to hear him snarking again as it meant he was returning to his old self.

"We had to evacuate your team out." the ranger told them, taking out a bandanna and mopping his brow. "The fire was getting too close to the scene. They want you to get back to your lab ASAP."

"We'll give them a call as soon as we pick up reception again." Nick nodded.

"I'll also give them a call when I get back to base." The ranger moved to drive off, and then stuck his head back out. "You weren't turning right, were you?"

"I was about to." Nick admitted.

"The fire's cut off the bottom off that road. You'll have to turn left and get out of the mountain on the other side."

"Thanks." Nick pulled his sunglasses back on, and they watched him drive off.

"Grissom sent out the cavalry." Greg said, amused. "Poor Papa must have been worried."

"I'm going to tell him you called him Papa." Nick laughed as he swung the car to the left.

"Yeah? Then I'll tell him it was you who put the Cabbage Patch Kid head in a jar of formaldehyde and stuck it amongst his other jars."

"You wouldn't!"

"Did you know he made me process it for prints?"

"He didn't!"

"Yep." Greg smiled at him, wishing he could take a photo of stunned-Nicky. "You're so lucky you have a good boyfriend who suppressed the results."

Nick grinned back. "Okay, I won't tell Papa if you don't."

"Deal." Greg leaned back against his seat, and chuckled.

"I'm just surprised you kept that secret for so long."

"I needed to wait for the right moment to use it." Greg opened his cellphone, waited, then sighed. "Still nothing."

Nick stared at the road ahead. "Hey, isn't that your---"

He swerved without warning to the left of the road as the black horse reappeared before them. At the sound of the approaching car, it reared on its hind legs and pawed at the air in panic. Unfortunately, dazed by the smoky surroundings it was in the middle of the road, although slightly more to the right so Nick couldn't choose the safer option of avoidance.

Greg yelled out as the Tahoe hit the shoulder of the road, throwing the vehicle into a spin. Neither man had time to recognise a feeling of déjà vu as the cab whirled around them once more. Only this time, they both realised they were sliding at a downward angle at the same time... they had left the side of the road and were hurtling down the ravine. This time it was Greg who reached out for Nick, to protect him from slamming his chest into the steering wheel as they braced for the inevitable impact.

***

"Grissom?" Sara asked from the doorway.

Grissom was once again lost in thought, his mind miles away, somewhere on Mt Charleston thinking of his missing CSIs.

Sara moved in further to his desk. "Grissom?"

Startled, he finally looked up at her, and his eyes swam into focus. "Sara..."

She smiled at him. "Good news."

He sighed with relief. "You've heard from them?"

"Not them, exactly. But a ranger found them coming off a dirt track and advised them to evacuate. Apparently they had had an accident on the way to the scene, and that was why they were delayed."

Grissom frowned. "An accident?"

"That's what Nick told him. And the ranger reported that Greg --- well, he referred to him as the younger one --- was injured but didn't look too bad."

"Injured?" Grissom asked, vaguely aware that he was sounding like an echo.

Sara nodded. "Some sort of head wound, but not too serious."

"What the hell happened to them up there?" Grissom asked, although he knew Sara couldn't possibly provide an answer.

Sara finally sat opposite him. "Griss, they're obviously okay. They've been accounted for, they're on the way back here, and we'll find out the whole story then."

"But an accident--- and Greg being injured---"

"Look at it this way, the ranger said they seemed fine. Surely if Greg was that badly injured they would have been more concerned."

"You're right." Grissom sighed. "At least we know they're safe."

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

Greg couldn't tell exactly how long they slid down the ravine, but it felt like forever.

Even though they were strapped in by their seatbelts, their bodies became missiles to each other as they were thrown about within the cab. Nick's hand struck him in the head and he felt his wound's fresh scab break open and start bleeding again. Greg still had his arm pressed against Nick's chest to stop him from hitting the steering wheel. Nick managed to grab onto him in the same way, and felt blood form in his mouth when his chin hit Greg's arm and he bit into his own tongue.

Something struck the front of the Tahoe. They immediately stopped sliding, and the force of the impact lifted the back wheels off the ground. Fortunately they did not flip over, they just felt the vehicle balance precariously for a moment before the back wheels hit the dirt again.

For a moment, they sat in silence. Trying to collect themselves. The only sound was a hissing from the radiator.

"Are you okay?" Nick wheezed.

"Yes. You?"

"Yeah. Shit, Greg, you're bleeding again."

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry."

"Babe, it wasn't your fault."

They both looked through the windshield. A withered-looking tree trunk had stopped their momentum down the ravine, by smashing through and crumpling the grille. Steam was escaping from the radiator, and below that they could see an even steeper descent into the valley, where the cliff seemed to fall away into nothingness.

"We better get out of here." Greg breathed. "While we still can."

"On three." Nick nodded.

Greg knew they had to jump out at the same time. The vehicle was in a precarious position, and any movement they made might send it hurtling down with one of them still in it.

"One--- two--- three---"

They both flung open their doors and jumped out blindly.

Greg hit the dirt face-first, as he had misjudged his fall. Immediately he looked to his left, beneath the undercarriage of the car. Nick was lying in the dirt on the other side of the vehicle and looking back at him, making sure he was safe as well.

Greg jumped to his feet, and pulled open the back door on his side.

"Greg! What are you doing?" Nick pulled himself up and began running around to join him.

Greg scrabbled around the mess in the back seat, trying to find his backpack. He found a couple of bottles of water and threw them onto the ground. Nick grabbed him by the waist.

"Greg, stay away from the car!"

"We don't know how long we're going to be out here! My provisions, remember?" Greg asked, thinking of the secret stash of pick-me-up food he and Nick had discussed earlier.

"They're going to be no use to you if you go down with this car!" Nick started pulling him away.

Greg resisted him long enough to grasp onto one of the handles of his backpack, and then allowed Nick to drag him off. They stumbled backwards, lost their footing and fell onto the dirt.

"You goddamn idiot!" Nick yelled angrily, shoving Greg off him.

Greg turned to face him. "Calm down!" Concerned, he realised he hadn't seen Nick this livid in a very long time.

"Calm down? Greg, we just survived plunging down a cliff and you were ready to throw yourself back into the car for some candy!"

"I just thought it would be best for us to have some food, no matter what it was." Greg looked out from under the bloodied, matted hair that was in his eyes.

His expression tore Nick in two. "I know. But..." Why did he find it so hard to say what was on his mind and in his heart? Especially when it was always in jeopardy, and threatened to be removed from him again and again? "...I can't lose you, G."

Greg moved back in to him. "You won't."

"You can't say that. We never know what's going to happen to us. You check a hood, you get blown through a wall. I pick up a polystyrene cup, I end up in a coffin. We go to a crime scene, we go over a cliff." He couldn't look Greg in the eyes as his words spilled out uncontrollably.

Now it was time for Greg to feel like his heart was broken by Nick's fallen face. "You're right, we never know. But here we are. We're okay. And that's all we can do, is hope that we'll be okay and we'll get through whatever it is we need to."

"It's a lot to do." Nick said tiredly. "I just want a week where there is nothing but fun."

"Well, that's it. When we get back to the office, we're asking Grissom for a week off... and then we're going to Disneyland, baby!" Greg gave him the cute half-lidded look that he knew Nick found irresistible.

It did get a laugh out of him. "You're on."

Greg got to his feet, brushed the dirt off himself as best he could, then reached down and helped Nick up. As Nick steadied himself, they both turned at the sound of cracking wood that echoed up the incline of the ravine.

The dead tree groaned as the weight of the Tahoe with the force of gravity made it unable to bear the load anymore. As if in slow-motion, the vehicle began to tip as tree roots began ripping themselves out of the soil – and dreamlike, all four wheels left the ground and the Tahoe hurtled down into the valley below.

"Oh, man." Nick breathed, barely even believing it was happening. "Ecklie will kill us for losing a car."

Greg swatted him. "Nicky, we almost Thelma and Louise-d it down a cliff! Hopefully Ecklie will just be glad we didn't die."

"You are talking about Ecklie?" Nick asked.

Relief and fear bubbled over in both of them, and they started to laugh uproariously. Nick had to sit back down, his ass hitting the ground hard. Greg began to laugh at him, and this only increased the semi-hysteria they felt.

Holding his ribs, Greg dropped down beside him. "I wish we had called in sick today."

***

"Sure is easier going down than it is getting back up." Greg panted as he scrabbled up the side of the ravine, bent over to keep his gravity centred, one hand reaching ahead to help hoist himself up. Nick was only a few feet ahead of him, in the same position. "The view's much nicer this way though."

Nick paused long enough to look back and grin. "Nice to know that staring death in the face doesn't keep your mind out of the gutter, G."

"I try to be consistent." Greg smiled, while his backpack felt like it had suddenly gained a few bricks.

Nick shook his head with laughter, and continued climbing. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and stung his eye. He wiped at it, but only succeeded in aggravating it with some dust.

As soon as Nick's back was turned again, Greg's smile dropped. His lungs were burning, and spots were dancing in front of his vision as he struggled for breath. He closed his eyes, feeling like he was five years old again and spinning around just to feel the after-effects of dizziness. Except this time it wasn't fun.

Rocks from underneath Nick's boots as he stumbled rained down upon Greg.

"Sorry." Nick called over his shoulder, down to him.

Too out of breath to answer, Greg merely nodded.

Nick had reached the top of the ravine now, and was able to stand fully-upright and stagger back onto the main road. He reached down and offered Greg his hand, who gratefully took it and was helped the last few steps up.

"What now?" Nick asked. In both directions the road was empty. There was a nagging thought at the back of his mind that an evacuation being in effect probably meant there would be few people coming along this road now, if any. He tried to push it away as best he could, because worrying would do nothing for their situation.

He turned back to see Greg crouched on the ground, his head between his knees, and his breathing labored.

"Greg!" he cried, dropping to his knees and placing his hand on Greg's back.

"O-okay." Greg wheezed. "Just... need to get my b-breath back."

Nick's eyes narrowed, both with concern and with realisation. He knew Greg shouldn't have had that much difficulty getting back up the ravine, even though they were at a slightly higher altitude.

Greg sat down properly, Nick remained on his knees and took Greg's hands in his own. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing, really. It sounds a lot worse than it actually is."

Panic gripping his heart as if it was in a vice, Nick counted to three in his head. "Then tell me."

Greg looked up at him. "I'm just having a little bit of trouble catching my breath. The doctors warned me that my lungs were affected---"

"The explosion?" Nick asked grimly.

Greg nodded. "Look, they weren't too concerned about it at the time. They just said that I might experience problems at higher altitudes and in certain situations."

"How come you never told me?"

"Well, I was never really in a situation where I was affected before. And they told me before we were really together - it wasn't exactly something I wanted to advertise."

Nick swore softly into his chest.

Greg looked at him plaintively. "Are you pissed at me?"

"No... yes. Kind of. I just wish you had told me."

"It's just a minor thing, Nicky. Like I said, it's nothing that really bothers me that much."

"Well, it's bothering you now."

"It's just an unexpected situation, that's all."

"This whole day has been an unexpected situation."

Greg reached up and tenderly wiped away a smudge of dirt underneath Nick's left eye. "It will be one for the newsletter."

Nick felt like he was going to lose it. This day had gone to hell so swiftly before he had time to process any of it, and he was starting to feel like he couldn't handle it. There was a part of him that wanted to revert to childishness and cry out "It's not fair!" Because it wasn't fair. Hadn't the both of them been through enough? Did it have to come down to this, yet another life-or-death situation for him, a mere couple of months since his last one?

Greg looked at him, as if he had read his mind. "You're not alone this time, Nicky."

"What, you think I would rather have someone suffering along with me?" Nick asked, an edge to his tone.

"I would." Greg said, honestly.

Nick could only stare at him.

"I'm not saying I would willingly want someone to be put in danger just so I wouldn't be by myself... but I honestly think I would go crazy by myself."

Nick wondered how Greg could make so much sense, and know him so well, when he so often went out of his way to differentiate himself from others and appear as if he was blissfully on another plane of existence. "I almost did." he admitted softly.

"Well, I definitely would."

"No, you wouldn't." Nick looked down the road in the direction from where they had driven, and didn't like the look of the thickening smoke. "We better start walking. Are you up for it?"

Greg shrugged. "Have to be."

Nick stood, and helped him up. Without a word, he took Greg's backpack off him and slung it over his own shoulder.

"I can take that." Greg protested.

Nick shrugged. "I know you can."

Greg nodded, deciding to let it go. "Let's move. We may have a long walk ahead of us."

As they started down the road, Nick reached out and took Greg's hand. "You wouldn't, you know."

Greg looked at him. Despite the situation taking place, he was glad to have Nick's hand in his. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one he appreciated. "Wouldn't what?"

"Have gone crazy. You're a lot stronger than you think."

"Where's your evidence to back that up?"

"It's on you."

Greg stopped walking, and raised an eyebrow. "On me?"

"Look at what you survived, G." Nick said earnestly. "You spent weeks in that hospital bed, recovering. Enduring skin graft operations. And you had to do it alone."

"Not exactly. You were there towards the end."

"Yes, and you were there when they lifted me out of the ground. But nobody suffered through that explosion with you. Oh, Sara got a few cuts, and I'm not diminishing what happened to her and how that may have affected her, but you were the one who truly suffered. And you came through it."

"But---" Greg made to interrupt.

Nick shook his head to silence him. "You know how I got through some of the nights after I was out of the hospital? I watched you sleep. And I knew that you had gotten through it, and came out stronger... and I knew that I would too, eventually. You gave me hope."

"You're not going to start singing Wind Beneath My Wings, are you?" Greg gave an attempt at levity.

Nick rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to be serious here."

Greg sobered instantly. "I'm sorry. Just, you know, bad humour always... I'm sorry. However you found it, I'm glad you realised you would come through. It sounds selfish, but I needed you to. Because I felt helpless."

"And as I said, you weren't. Jesus, Greg, you mean everything to me."

"I hope you know it goes the same way for me." Greg reached down for his hand again.

"I do." Nick smiled. "But we better get moving."

They set off again. They had only gotten about five steps when Greg began singing, "Did I ever tell you, you're my hero..."

Nick shook his head. "You're lucky I love you."

But he laughed, and it was the best thing they could both do at that moment.

***

"It's getting late."

It was Greg who broke the silence they had fallen into as they trudged along the road. It had become a slow descent about forty minutes before, a fact for which their aching legs were extremely grateful.

Nick looked once more at the sky. It was starting to take on that peculiar purplish tinge as the blue of the afternoon slowly turns into the grey of twilight.

"Do you think we're going to be stuck out here all night?" Greg asked.

"Someone will surely come along by nightfall." Nick said stoically, although his paranoid heart was saying otherwise.

"Maybe we'll luck out and the killer will return to the scene of the crime." Greg replied. "Do you think he'll give us a lift?"

"Funny."

Greg looked troubled. "Wasn't trying to be." He stopped walking, and looked tiredly at Nick. "We've been walking for over two hours, and we haven't seen any sign of other people. We're in trouble."

"It's not that desperate." Nick tried to calm him. "All we've got is smoke so far." He instantly regretted saying the last two words.

"So far." Greg repeated.

"Look, the lab will be wondering once again where we are. They'll get into contact with the rangers, and they'll come out looking for us. We just have to stick to this road, and eventually we'll be found. No sweat."

"I don't know about you, but I am sweating a hell of a lot."

Nick put his hands on Greg's shoulders. "We're going to get out of here, Greg."

Greg opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded.

"And we'll never get out of here if we don't keep on going."

As they started walking again, another water-bearing plane passed overhead. Greg jumped up and down on the spot, waving his hands wildly, but there was no tipping of the wings or any indication that their presence was noted.

"I don't think they saw us, Greg." Nick took his arm. "It's getting too dark."

"Will you please stop calling me that? It's freaking me out!" Greg shook off his arm and marched a few steps ahead of him.

Perplexed, Nick asked of his partner's back, "What, your name?"

Greg turned around, still walking although now doing it backwards. "Yes! You only call me Greg when you are being deadly serious or if you're nagging me about something!"

"Okay, sorry, man. Now, will you please watch where you're going? If you trip in a pothole and break your ankle, I am not carrying you down this mountain!"

"Yes, you would." But Greg obeyed and turned round in the right direction again.

"Uh, no."

"I'm your Frodo, of course you would." Greg smiled.

Nick shook his head. "Geek."


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

"Then where the hell are they?" Brass barked down the phone line.

Catherine watched him argue hopelessly with whoever he was talking to, and pinched the bridge of her nose briefly, to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. This can't be happening again.

But this time it was two of their co-workers missing. And they had no idea of where they had ended up, or what exactly had happened to them. It was always the possibilities which haunted her.

Sara stuck her head in the door of the office, and winced at Brass' demeanour. "I still can't get answer from their cells, Catherine."

Catherine nodded tiredly. "The Mt Charleston rangers haven't had any contact with them since they told them to evacuate."

Sara scowled, and stared down at her feet. "What now?"

A shrug of her shoulders was the only answer she could muster. They both turned to Brass and waited for him to get off the phone.

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

Grissom splashed some water onto his face, stared at himself in the mirror as the tiny rivers ran off his skin, and then pulled some paper towelling to dry himself.

It hadn't made him feel any better.

The sun had now disappeared from the sky, and his stomach twisted at the thought that wherever Greg and Nick were now, they were in the dark. And there was nothing he could really do to help them. There was no way they could get into the mountains to try and personally search for them, what wasn't cut off by roadblocks was cut off by fire.

He sighed heavily, and left the rest-room, throwing the papertowel into the bin on his way out.

Sara stood at the wall opposite the door, her eyes closed. It would have been more precise to say that she was leaning against the wall, as if it was the only thing that could keep her upright. At the sound of the door swinging at Grissom's push, her eyes opened and she immediately straightened up.

"Have we heard something?" Grissom demanded.

He could tell by her eyes that she had, and that it wasn't good. Sara had perfected a tough, but brittle, exterior – and anybody who got to knew her well enough could guess at her deeper feelings just with a tilt of her head and a further setting of her lips.

"Sara, what is it?"

"Brass was on the phone to the ranger's station when one of their fireplane pilots called in. He could see a car resting at the bottom of a ravine."

Grissom's right hand instantly shot to his brow as if the emotional pain of the knowledge just shared with him had become a physical one.

"The description matched the Tahoe." Sara continued, her voice sounding dangerously close to breaking. "Of course, they couldn't see from the air if there... was anybody in it."

"So what are they doing about it?" Grissom asked harshly. "They could be injured, needing assistance..."

"They're sending out a team to check it out. The bottom of the ravine can be accessed by a dirt-trail that runs beside it."

"Good. How long?"

"The entrance to the trail is cut off by the fire. They're working on it at the moment... so they don't know."

They both looked at each other, not wanting to give voice to their worst fear, that it may be too late by then. Or even worse, that if they had been in the Tahoe when it had gone into the ravine they may have never even had a chance.

"Do the others know yet?" Grissom asked.

Sara bit her lip. "I wanted to tell you first."

Grissom dropped all eye contact. "I have to go and tell them."

Sara watched him leave, but she still wouldn't cry. She remembered a conversation she had had with Nick not that long ago. When she had told him that the day he was buried alive was not his day to die.

It's not today either, she vowed to herself. Not for either of you.

***

Next part of Into the Fire.