Previous part of Into the Fire.

***

Darkness.

They were now in darkness.

Sure, there was some ambient light from the stars and the gibbous moon above them - but it wasn't much to go by.

Nick felt as if he was night-swimming, in an ocean where the horizon between the water and the sky were virtually indistinguishable, as if he were lost in a huge expanse of dark ink. He looked up briefly at the sky, for the stars to centre him again and remind him which way was up. There had been a moment where he could have sworn that he didn't, and he could have stepped off into nothingness - hanging in the air like Wile E. Coyote before he remembered the laws of gravity and went plunging to a most un-cartoon-like death.

Greg trudged silently beside him. They hadn't spoken in a while, their moods had become grim with each passing of a substantial chunk of time. They didn't mean to keep track of the hours, but they kept glancing down at their watches and realising that another sixty minutes had gone by with still no sign of rescue.

"I'm sorry, G." Nick reminded himself not to use his full name, in case he freaked him out again.

"What for?" Greg was puzzled.

"I told you we would be found by nightfall."

Greg shrugged. "Hey, you weren't to know. If we're going to start apologising for things we have no control over, then I'm sorry that a horse jumped in front of our car, not once but twice."

"Touche."

"I'm fine now. Really." Greg said calmly. "I know we're going to get out of here."

"Of course we are." Nick said immediately. "Uh, how do you know?"

"I just do." Greg said resolutely. "I did not survive an explosion, and you did not survive Walter Gordon, for us to die on a freaking mountain."

Glad that Greg's fighting spirit had returned, Nick grinned even though Greg couldn't see it. "You're right."

"Damn straight I'm right."

"Well, I believe you."

Greg suddenly reached over and tugged at the backpack on Nick's shoulder. "Time out."

"Maybe we should---"

"Nuh uh. We haven't had anything to eat yet, and I don't know about you, but I need some energy boosting." He stated it, as if he wouldn't accept any argument.

Nick had to agree that it was probably a good idea. As Greg fell to the ground eagerly, crossing his legs with the pack between them, Nick sat beside him more gently. His leg muscles sighed with relief at the break in exercise, and Nick felt like sighing along in unison.

"What do you feel like?" Greg asked.

"I forgot my glasses." Nick smiled, the road was still warm beneath the palms of his hands. "Can you read me the menu?"

For the next few minutes, they took a simple pleasure in laughing as Greg tipped the contents of his bag onto the road and pawed through the small pile of junkfood that Greg had bought a few days before. They could almost forget their situation, and pretend that this was just them being themselves, as if they were at home in front of the television deciding between pizza or Chinese takeaway for dinner, instead of being lost on a mountain that had a fire spreading throughout it and having the strangest dinner date ever.

"Hmm, too bad I didn't bring marshmallows. Perfect place for them." Greg waggled his eyebrows as if he was Groucho Marx, and Nick practically lay on the road, overcome with laughter. "Or I could have challenged you at Chubby Bunnies."

"No fair. You can fit more in your mouth."

"Nicholas Stokes!" Greg started howling with laughter.

Nick groaned, and looked up at the sky as a flush blossomed across his face. "I did not mean it in that way."

"If your mother was here, I'd tell her to wash your mouth out with soap."

"And if your mother was here, I'd ask her what made your brain stop maturing when you were fifteen."

Greg continued to giggle to himself, as he ripped open a packet of Twinkies. "I can fit a whole Twinkie in my mouth, you know."

"I do know. Greggo, I've seen you cram three Twinkies in your mouth at one time."

Greg got lost in thought. "Oh, yeah!" he remembered. "That was a boring meeting."

"Sara didn't think so when you started to choke and got Twinkie in her hair."

"That was a great meeting." Greg smiled wickedly.

"It was memorable. You almost got food banned from future meetings."

Greg passed him a Twinkie. "We start with an entrée."

Nick grimaced slightly. "You know, I think read somewhere that there is seven tablespoons of sugar in each one of these."

"Every spoonful is better than the one before it. And if you think that's sweet, wait until the main course." Greg bit into his snack-cake with obvious relish. "Mmmmm…"

Nick gingerly bit into his. "I never even liked these things when I was a kid. But I'm starving."

"That's the spirit!"

Nick popped the last bit in his mouth. "I think my stomach is disintegrating."

"No, it's just telling you that you're ready for… peanut butter cups!"

Nick looked like he was going to vomit. "G, how many times do I have to tell you I hate peanut butter?"

"It's not that I forget you hate peanut butter, I just find it hard to believe that anybody could hate peanut butter. Especially when it's covered in chocolate." Greg waved a cup at him like a bone at a dog. Nick shook his head vehemently. "Okay, all the more for me. You can have some Red Vines."

"In future I am going to make you pack trail mix in your stash." Nick moaned.

"Trail mix? What a waste of space, Nicky."

Hunger won in the end. They washed down their calorie-laden meals with some of the warm water left in their bottles. "We better ration the water." Greg sighed, and Nick nodded. They were already starting to prepare for the eventuality that they may be out here a lot longer than they hoped. It was unspoken, but accepted by both. The chipper mood of their dinner began to be replaced by a more sombre one as they started clearing up. Greg opened a side pocket of the backpack and stuffed the candy wrappers into it. Nick then reached down and took the bag again, and Greg didn't even argue about it this time.

Time once again seemed to have no substance as they moved in the ethereal world of darkness and smoke. At times Nick could hear Greg's breathing hitch in his throat, and he would give a hacking cough that would clear it temporarily. Each time it happened his grip on Greg's hand would tighten.

"Oww." Greg said at one point, and Nick whispered an apology in reply.

As they turned a corner in the road, they had a clear view of the valley below. They both sucked in a harsh breath at the same time.

The right-side of the valley was in flames, throwing ash into the sky. In the distance they could see the flashing lights of fire-engines tending to the blaze, mere pin-pricks that were so far away they could almost have been stars.

It was surreal. The scene before them was painted in an amber glow, and Nick felt as if he could feel the heat from where they stood.

It was Greg who spoke first. "Nick, I have a feeling that the fire cuts off our road."

Nick tried to follow the bend of the road as far down as he could, in the hellish light.

It did seem as if Greg was right - the road seemed to disappear within the flames.

"We have to get off the road before we reach that point." Nick nodded.

"The road is the only thing that keeps us from getting lost again!" Greg argued. "And at least the road will lead us to the fire and rescue services!"

"It looks like they're on the other side of the blaze." Nick told him, pointing it out. "The fire would stand between us and them anyway."

Greg felt like he was going to hyperventilate, but he turned his back on Nick so he couldn't see and took several deep breaths. When he felt like he was back in control of himself, he cleared his throat. "We're going to have to head into the middle, then. Try and come through the bottom of the mountain by going as the crow flies."

Nick placed his hands on his hips, defeatedly. "It'll be longer, but safer." He moved to the left side of the road and stared down into the murky depths of the ravine. "It's not so steep here. We might as well start now."

Any sense of temporary joviality they had shared earlier seemed years away now. Trying to put on brave faces for each other, they headed away from the road, down the ravine, away from the light of the fire, and into the darkness below.

***

A body had been discovered in one of the city's largest hotels, within one of their public restrooms. Grissom had assigned Warrick and Catherine to cover it as he felt they needed the distraction the most. Warrick for obvious reasons, as one of Nick's closest friends; and Catherine because her maternal instincts for the two missing men would have kicked into high gear had she been sitting around worrying over them much longer. They would be at their best on a case.

It didn't mean they were happy about it though.

"Can't you send Sara instead of me?" Catherine had demanded in the locker-room as she shrugged into her flak-jacket.

"No." Grissom had said simply. "But I will call you as soon as we hear anything."

Catherine slammed her locker. "They're going to be freezing in those mountains now that the sun has gone down."

She stared at the locker door, unable to look at him. "At least they won't have to light a fire."

He was surprised at her bitter tone, and was glad that he had chosen her to attend the DB. "You need to have your mind off this for a while."

She turned to him, her eyes like steel. "What, do you think I'll forget about them when I walk out those doors? Do you think Warrick's not going to think about his best friend possibly lying dead at the base of a ravine?"

"Catherine, we're all upset---"

"You don't seem to be." Catherine knew she was being irrational, but she was in pain, and she wanted to hurt him so he could feel a fraction of what she was feeling.

His jaw tightened, and she knew her arrow had hit home. "You've been in charge before, Catherine. You know what it's like. The boss has to stay calm and detached for everybody else, no matter what."

"You don't have to act like you don't care, though. But that's what you do. Detached is what you do best."

He handed her the sheet of paper with the case details on it. "Just get to the scene." he dismissed her.

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

The confrontation with Catherine had left him feeling even worse than he had before. It meant that now he had another personnel issue weighing upon him. He knew exactly where Catherine was coming from, even though he felt she had been unfair. They just approached their job from different angles, even if they arrived at the same results.

But he couldn't blame her. They all took the job personally at times, and he realised Catherine was only reacting to the fear of losing her co-workers. Co-workers who were more than co-workers, she felt more like a mother or older sister to them most of the time. Especially Nick and Greg; she had always felt a responsibility towards Greg as it had been her who caused the explosion that had left him injured, and Nick had been under her wing during the year of the shift split and the time of his abduction at the hands of Walter Gordon.

Grissom sighed and looked up from his desk to see Sara passing by his window, barking into her cellphone. He could only imagine that she was probably back on the line to the rangers for an update on the fire and the possibility of reaching the wreckage of the Tahoe. And judging by the expression on her face, she wasn't getting anywhere.

Catherine then marched by, her face set in stone. She didn't even glance in to acknowledge that she was leaving for the crime scene.

Warrick was right behind her, but he stuck his head into the office. "Hey, Grissom, we're off now." He didn't look too happy either, but he was resigned to the fact that there was a job to do and that it couldn't wait for personal feelings.

Grissom nodded. "Warrick, will you do me a favour and look out for Catherine for me?"

"Sure, boss." Warrick seemed to cover the last word with a layer of iciness.

If Grissom wasn't used to hiding his emotions under a carefully-maintained mask of composure, he might have flinched. "I'll keep you posted once we hear something about Greg and Nick."

His hands now defensively on his hip, Warrick nodded. "Thanks." He looked down the hall, and saw Catherine was standing with an expectant look on her face. Without saying another word, he moved off towards her.

Alone again, Grissom punched a key on his computer keyboard to wake it up out of hibernation mode.

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

"He's only doing his job." Warrick said to Catherine as he slid the seat-belt over his shoulder.

Catherine turned the key savagely in the ignition and the engine jolted into life, protesting at having been woken so abruptly. "I don't care. There are better ways you can deal with people."

"You know he cares just as much as we do."

Catherine applied her foot to the accelerator. "We're on a job, now, Warrick. Leave your emotion at the door."

Warrick clenched his jaw, and decided to leave it at that.

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

Grissom pulled his glasses back on, and entered his username and password for the human resources folders on the main database.

He didn't think he would be doing this again so soon, but here he was.

He remembered a pale, weakened arm reaching out of the darkness of the ground and clutching him for life itself. He could also look back and see the pained eyes of a lab tech recovering in a hospital bed, with glass in his cheeks and scars on his back.

Had he failed them, in his duty of care as a supervisor and a friend?

Grissom pushed those thoughts away, and pulled up the file of Nick Stokes.

On his release from hospital, Nick had turned to Grissom and indicated his parents down the hall with a jerk of his head. "I appreciate everything you did for them, Gris," he had said with his soft drawl, "but please, next time, don't let them know until it's all over. It's hard enough for you guys to go through it…" and he had trailed off to take in Greg, who was in the room at the same time, "but my parents… they shouldn't go through it."

Grissom had nodded, and it was only now that it sunk in… Nick's choice of words.

Next time.

Not if.

Next time. As if Nick had known this job would never let up, or that he would never be free of it until it killed him.

Grissom's chest tightened.

His prophecy had come true. The next time was already here. And this time it had taken Greg Sanders along for the ride.

No matter what promise he had made to Nick, it wasn't one he could keep. And it was foolish of Nick to feel that it could be kept. It was part of the responsibility of the job. Any parent would want to know that their child was in danger, no matter what their age. And it hurt Grissom to know that the Sanders and Stokes families had already received his call before, and the trauma of it would probably have seared the sound of his voice into their memories, so that tonight they would know the nature of his call before he even got past his neutral greeting.

Grissom scrawled through the data on the screen, until he got to the part he needed.

In case of emergency contact:

1. Greg Sanders

Grissom frowned, puzzled by what he was seeing. He scanned further down the page, and there was what he was expecting:

2. Jillian and William Stokes

The contact numbers next to the names were correct. And that was definitely Greg's home and cell phone numbers. All at number one.

Grissom pulled off his glasses, and chewed at the end of one of the arms. He loved nothing more than a good puzzle, and it appeared that he had had one under his nose for a while. It certainly threw this whole situation into a new light.

And an even sadder one, if it entailed that what he was thinking was possible.

***

The terrain was rougher now that they were off the smooth, tarred road. The ground was even, and in the darkness it was harder to see rocks and natural debris. Every now and again one of them would stumble, and the other would steady them with their arm. They worked in conjunction with each other, heading down the slope.

Their view of the fire had once again disappeared behind the ridge. Nick didn't know if that made him feel more at ease, or if he felt even more apprehensive now that their enemy was unseen.

He guessed that if they started feeling the heat, they would know the fire was too close.

Black humor had served him well during his time in the plexiglass coffin, and it felt like an old friend at a reunion now that it had reared its ugly head again.

"I must be getting old." he spoke up, in an attempt to engage Greg. "I'm definitely not as fit as I used to be."

Greg snorted. "Bullshit, Nicky. You're still in better shape than most guys half your age."

"So, you do think I'm old?" Nick pushed him with his shoulder.

"Ready for retirement!" Greg scoffed. "I can't wait to quit my job and live a life of decadence on your pension."

They continued walking, stumbling, sliding, supporting. A strange amiability settled between them, as if they were merely on a midnight hike rather than trying to save themselves from a bad situation.

Nick noticed Greg was biting his lip, lost in a maze of thoughts as he tried to make out their own self-defined path ahead so that they weren't heading off into the wrong direction.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Greg sighed. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I do. That's why I asked, G."

"I was just thinking about your parents."

Nick was perplexed. "My parents?"

"Well, mine too. It's probably around about now that Grissom will be thinking of calling them and telling them we're missing."

"Oh." Nick said softly, not really wanting to think about his mother or Cisco having to take that call again.

"It's been a while since my parents had a call like that… but your poor parents. It hasn't even been two months for them."

"I told Grissom that if anything ever happened to me again, not to tell them until the situation was resolved."

"Well, he can't do that." Greg pushed a low-hanging branch out of his way, and then paused for Nick to move past him so it wouldn't sling back and hit him. "It's just… they've only gotten used to the idea of you being safe again, and now it will all be taken away from them."

Nick couldn't formulate a response.

"I know how I would feel if I was at a scene or back in the lab and I heard that you had gone missing again. It would kill me."

"Well, luckily you're here with me then."

Greg laughed, but it wasn't a proper one. It was one that felt it had to be made, even though there was no true feeling behind it.

Struck by a sudden memory, Nick began to laugh. He was practically doubled over, tears running down his face. Greg frowned, turned to face him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't that funny, man."

"It's not that." Nick wheezed. "I just remembered…" he began to laugh again.

"What?" Greg asked, getting annoyed.

Nick managed to control himself, and looked up at Greg with shiny eyes. "When Grissom checks my emergency details, he's going to realise that the first person he has to call… is you."

Greg looked dumbfounded. "Me?"

"Of course, you!"

Now Greg looked slightly angry. "And why would you do that?"

Nick's laughter ebbed away as he noticed the expression Greg was wearing. "Uh, because I love you?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "I just don't get you, Nick."

"You don't get me?"

"It's just… it's always one step forward, two steps back with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want anybody to know about us at work, and that's fine, because you always want to be private… except like when you're screwing hookers…"

"Hang on, that's not fair---" Nick growled.

Greg knew he was on dangerous territory, but continued anyhow. "---and I accept that, because you know, office relationships haven't done much for other people we know, and we have still maintained separate addresses and whatever when's it been such a waste of money for both of us---"

"Greg---"

"---but then you go and do something like this! Why the hell would you change your emergency details? You had to know that if something happened that would look pretty damn strange!"

"Have you finished?" Nick asked defensively.

"I haven't started!" Greg yelled, flushed. "All your careful plans, Nicky, are all going to go hell tonight." His voice suddenly became soft. "And you'll end up blaming me."

"That's what this is about?" Nick sat exhaustedly on the ground. "Come here."

"No." Greg stuffed his hands in his pockets, against the increasing cold.

"Please, G."

Greg sighed but sat next to him, although he carefully maintained a distance between them.

Nick leaned over, grabbed him around the waist and pulled him over to him. Greg made a noise of protest, but felt Nick's breath against his ear as he whispered "Please."

He stopped resisting him, and let Nick pull him against his chest, and his arms encircle his waist fully.

"When I got out of the hospital," Nick said softly, "I told myself that I had everything to live for and be happy about. And I knew that, but I was scared, Greg, I was scared of everything. I thought if I didn't try to pretend to be fine, I might drive you away. Sssh." he interrupted as Greg made to say something. "I'm just talking about what my own stupid brain was thinking. I thought maybe if all of a sudden I changed and wanted to tell everybody everything that maybe they would think it was post-traumatic stress disorder. I didn't want to cheapen us."

Greg sighed, and relaxed against Nick's chest.

"And one day I was doing some work for Grissom in the personnel records, and I just thought to myself… take baby steps. And I changed my details. Because you are the person I would want to know first if something happened to me, G." He gave a small kiss to the exposed neck in front of him, and Greg closed his eyes. "It killed me thinking about what you must have gone through that night. Being there with everybody, having to act as if you were on the same level as them. Not being comforted as anybody else's partner would have been. Meeting my parents for the first time and just having them treat you like another friend and work colleague. It was a small step, but it was one that I wanted to take in getting everything else I wanted."

Greg ran his thumb along the strong hands that held him. "Which is?"

"You. You and me together. One house, one life."

"I want that, too. But I just never wanted you to feel pressured. Like I said, I can't have you panicking and end up thinking it's my fault, that I pushed you."

"Greg, you've always been honest. I know what you've wanted. But you have never pressured me either, and that's the truth. So I can't be dishonest with you. I still get scared when I think about taking this next step, but I think it would be scarier if I wasn't."

"I'm nervous as well. But that may be a moot point now." Greg finally laughed.

"Well, fuck them if they can't handle it." Nick growled against his neck.

"They'll handle it. I think we're making more out of this than they ever would. Our own fears are greater enemies than anything else." He paused. "So, whose apartment do we sell?"

"Mine's bigger."

"Mine has more character."

Nick nuzzled against his ear. "Maybe we should just get a new one that we both decide upon."

Greg suddenly slapped him on the thigh, and jumped up.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Greg grabbed his hand, and hoisted him up to his feet. "Come on Nicky, we're getting off this damn mountain. We have too much to live for."

***

It was getting abysmally cold, and they walked huddled against each other as much as they could. This made walking more difficult, but they were also starting to tire and their speed had slowed down considerably. Not to mention that the smoke from the fires had started to block out the stars, thus giving them little illumination with which to move by. Nick was starting to fear that they may be heading in the wrong direction, and the deeper paranoid part of him was starting to wonder if they may be blundering right towards where the fire burned.

"Why did I move to a desert state?" Greg asked between chattering teeth.

"Because you knew you would find a fantastic boyfriend there?" Nick asked innocently.

"Nope. It was because of the job." Greg sighed. "I am getting too cold and too tired to play the funny guy now."

Nick glanced at his watch. It was close to midnight, and the sun would be up in just over five hours. They couldn't stand to waste more time by losing their bearings, and getting lost. Wherever they were, the smoke wasn't too bad and he felt that they were far enough away from any immediate danger.

"I think we should rest up." he told Greg.

"Do you think it's safe?" Greg asked worriedly.

"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think we were." Nick replied, sounding more confident than he actually was. The disorientation he felt in the darkness was causing him to feel less certain about everything, but he had to keep the act going. That was what Nick Stokes did.

"We have to keep warm." Greg knelt down on the ground, at the base of a tree. "Or else we'll freeze to death. Which may be less painful than being burnt alive, but I don't want either option really."

"That's cheerful. What are you thinking?"

"I don't think you're going to like what I'm thinking." Greg said sombrely, his earnest eyes looking up at him.

Nick suddenly felt a chill run down his spine that wasn't coming from the desert night air, as a faint memory of survival tactics surfaced in his thoughts. "A grave."

"It's not a grave." Greg said quickly. "It's a… burrow. It will be cozy. We can snuggle like bunnies."

Nick swallowed heavily, and put on his patented it's-cool face again. "Sounds fun. Let's start digging."

Greg looked at him for a moment, then started shovelling dirt away from the base of the tree with his hands. Nick knelt beside him and started doing the same. Even though the soil was relatively loose, it still ravaged their hands, gradually breaking cuticles and tearing away loose skin so that they were both in pain by the time they had managed to fashion a bath-tub sized hole in the ground.

Nick sat back, dusting his hands on his thighs. Even though he was sweating from the exertion, he felt as if there were ice in his veins. The hole in the ground looked like a mouth ready to swallow him again, and this time he was having to go into it willingly.

Greg grabbed his hand. "It's totally different this time."

Nick swallowed. "It doesn't feel different."

"Well, it is. I'm here with you, and we'll be fine."

Nick suddenly gave a short laugh. "I don't think this is what my therapist had in mind when she said I had to confront my fears."

"Just think how much you'll have to tell her next week." Greg kept deliberately using these words and turn of phrases, next week, tomorrow, next time - as much for his own sake as for Nick's. They had to hold on to the thought of the future. "Do you want me to go in first?"

Nick's grip on his hand tightened. "No, I will. It will make her very happy if I get to tell her that I went in the big, dark, scary hole of my own volition first."

Greg released his hand, then placed it at the small of Nick's back. "Go on, babe."

Nick didn't bother getting back to his feet, he slid himself across the sand and paused briefly at the lip of the hole, wondering if his body would freeze and refuse to go any further. He heard Greg move behind him, and this strengthened him. He swung his legs over and dropped himself the short distance in. As he settled himself onto the floor of their ‘burrow' he looked up at Greg, and had a quick flash of what seemed to be Walter Gordon and his daughter standing over him, shovels at the ready. Even though that wasn't a memory of his, but a vision from a half-remembered nightmare that seemed to repeat itself every now and again in the midst of sleep. He blinked, and Greg came into view.

"Any room in there for me?" Greg asked.

"Hurry up and get in here." Nick growled, needing Greg's weight against him to anchor him to reality and rid himself of the ghosts that shimmered into existence any time he let his guard down.

"Ooof!" he winced as Greg fell clumsily in on top of him, his breath knocked out of his chest.

"Howdy, stranger." Greg smiled, looking into Nick's eyes. They had turned into inky pools in the dark, as he was sure his own had turned as well. "This comfy enough for you?"

Nick couldn't help but laugh. "Just like our couch at home."

"I would rather be snuggling with you on it."

"That goes without saying. I don't know how we're going to be able to sleep like this." Nick sighed.

"Just close your eyes." Greg passed his hand over Nick's eyes, then uncomfortably realised the motion was too similar to closing the eyes of a corpse. He rested his hand against Nick's temple and began stroking it lightly, and although the wind was cool at his back the heat from Nick below him kept him warm. "Pretend we're at home and you've just finished watching the football." He felt Nick's arms circle around his waist and draw him in closer to his chest, and he laid his head on the best pillow he could ever have. "You've had a couple of beers and some nachos, and you're getting that comfortably sleepy feeling. We're going to sleep like cats in the sunshine, Nicky."

He continued stroking Nick's hair, and glanced up. Miracle of miracles, Nick seemed to be entering dreamland. He heard his breathing become deeper, and Greg smiled. He laid his head back down, and waited for sleep to claim him as well.

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

Nick wasn't sure how long he had slept for, but when he opened his eyes he could tell Greg was awake. His body was too tense, and he had shifted so that his back was against Nick's chest.

Greg had sensed he had awoken as well. "Nick?"

"What time is it?"

"It's about four in the morning. Won't be long until the sun is up."

"Good. Did you get any sleep?"

"A little." He didn't want to tell Nick that he had stayed awake the whole time, watching their surroundings with an eagle eye. He was looking for any sign of approaching fire, wanting to be ready to rouse Nick instantly and be ready to move should they have to. He hadn't wanted to fall asleep, because he was scared their situation would seep into his dreams and turn them into nightmares - but unfortunately he had had his own imagination to keep him company in the dark, and had tormented himself with the possibilities of what could occur. He had seen a fire race through them while they were asleep, so that they had burst into flame together and eventually became another grisly specimen on Doc Robbins' table.

Greg closed his eyes, not wanting to revisit that vision again.

"You're thinking about something." Nick whispered.

In the dark it was always easier to speak what was on your mind, as if the cover of night could blanket your fears forever and you wouldn't have to deal with them in the light of day. The black of night brought a comfort for Greg, and was the reason why many of his darkest secrets were told to Nick in bed before they fell asleep.

"I was thinking about the horse." Greg admitted. Among other things.

"The horse?" Nick asked. "The one that tried to kill us? Twice?"

"One and the same."

"What about it?"

"You're going to think I'm stupid." Greg said softly.

"When have I ever thought you were stupid?" Nick asked defensively.

"Lots of times."

Insulted, Nick pouted in the dark even though Greg couldn't see him. "No, at times I have thought you were child-like, or deliberately silly when a situation didn't call for it, but I have never thought you were stupid. Stupid is the one word that never occurs to me when I think of you."

"Well, you might after this." Greg muttered, then shifted antagonistically. "Child-like?"

"There is no way you can mount a believable defense against that charge, Greggo."

"Fine." Greg sighed. "You can have that one."

"So, are you going to tell me or what?"

Greg picked a twig off the knee of Nick's pants. "I remembered a story Papa Olaf used to tell me when I was a kid. It used to scare the crap out of me."

Nick smiled. "Grandfathers love to do that." He wistfully remembered his own telling stories of sorrowful Mexican ghosts that used to cross the Texan border seeking revenge on those who had stolen their land; and how his own ranch was stolen property from generations before, which made Nick lie awake at night fearful that every moan of wind coming across the plains was actually his name being spoken by a restless spirit.

"Every European country seems to have their own version of the story." Greg continued. "In Germany they call it the Wild Hunt, or Wutan's Army. In Norway, Papa Olaf said it was called the Oskorei."

"The Oskorei?" Nick asked, mangling the pronunciation with his accent.

Greg smiled, and repeated it back to him properly.

"What do they have to do with your horse?"

"They were an army of ghosts, led by Grutte Gray-Beard…"

Nick repressed a snort, but Greg felt it anyway. "Hey!"

"I'm sorry, the name's a bit funny, is all."

"You wouldn't think it was funny if you saw him. He was the most fearsome spirit around. They were meant to drive the cold away, but if they found you on the roads at night they would take you along with them to join their ranks."

Nick felt a slight chill run down his spine, and suddenly the Norwegian name didn't sound so amusing. Of course, their surroundings didn't help. And what were he and Greg tonight, but two lost souls at the mercy of nature?

Greg covered his mouth, and gave a hacking cough, then continued. "Whoever was unlucky enough to come across them would first hear the barking of dogs, and yelling and screaming. Then Grutte Gray-Beard would emerge out of thin air, riding his black horse six feet off the ground. Behind him would be the rest of his army, a procession of the dead. And by then it would be too late for you. Your soul would be captured and your body would be left behind on the road. Your spirit would then continue with the Oskorei…"

"Okay, Greggo, thanks, that was creepy."

Greg turned around and looked at him. "Don't worry. I won't let them take you."

"Doesn't sound like you could stop them even if they tried."

Greg shrugged. "Papa Olaf survived."

Nick bit down on his incredulity. "Your grandfather saw them?"

"He didn't see them. He heard them one night, the barking of the dogs, the yelling of the hunters, and the screams of the newly-captured. Before they had a chance to appear he ran in a different direction and hid in a neighbour's barn for the rest of the night." Greg gave a small laugh. "He buried himself in a haystack and didn't come out until he felt the morning sunshine warming the pile, and knew then that it was safe to come out."

At the thought of it, Nick chuckled. "I would have done the same. But G, that horse today… there was no ghostly madman riding it. It was just a horse."

"Don't make fun of me." There was an edge to Greg's tone of voice.

"Hey," Nick scowled. "I would never make fun of you about something like this. Never."

But Greg still couldn't give him a smile, all he could look was troubled.

"Hey." Nick said again, this time more gently. "What is it?"

Greg shivered, and Nick hugged him tight.

"What if…" Greg trailed off, and cleared his throat. "What if that black horse was meant for me?"

"Don't think like that, Greg." Nick knew where his partner was going with this, and it was tearing him up inside. He reached up and cupped Greg's face with his palms.

Greg could feel the tears coming, but he tried to hold them back. "What if… the fire from the lab wasn't finished with me?"

"Greg…"

"No, seriously. It didn't get me the last time, so it just waited to get me again and finish me off." This time, some tears fell and Nick wiped them away with his thumb.

"Sssh." he whispered, and then brought his lips to Greg's.

Greg's breathing was ragged, and he was still trying to get a hold of himself, but he returned Nick's kiss hungrily. Nick's warmth and touch seemed to be the only anchor he had at the moment, stopping him from spiralling out into the darkness and to finally submit to his fear.

"I'm here." Nick murmured, repeating back to Greg what had been said to him earlier. "I won't let them take you."

***

When Nick opened his eyes again, he was back in the coffin. He could feel the weight of the gun on his chest, taste the stale air, and had to shield his eyes against the sickly green light he was bathed in.

No no no this isn't real!

He knew he was dreaming, but being lucid in such a dream state didn't kill the fear that was forcing itself through his system and causing the bile to rise in his throat.

Wake up, goddamit!

Nick let loose a howl of agony.

"Nick…"

He turned his head to the left, and outside the plexiglass he could see Greg lying in the dirt, his face pressed against the glass as he tried to breathe.

And then the green light started to turn orange. He could feel the temperature rise, sweat beading on his skin. Greg pressed a hand against the glass as a wall of flame reared up behind him. Nick could only scream as the fire engulfed Greg, eating his skin away, charring him before his eyes---

"Nick!"

Nothing but dust remaining, blowing away as the flames began to lick the walls of his coffin, slowly cooking him...

"Nick!"

Nick opened his eyes, and this time it was for real. He was already trying to scramble away from the envisioned flames, but it was impossible as Greg was still wedged in against him. He opened his mouth, knowing he was about to let loose a primeval howl of rage and despair, but Greg grabbed him by the shoulders. He didn't speak, only looked at him with empathetic and pained eyes. Nick felt his fear subside - Greg was alive, he was here with him, and he was out of the grave---

---except he wasn't. He was in the ground, and he had to get out. He heard a whimper start in the back of his throat, and he hated himself for giving voice to it. He felt the weight of Greg lift off him as he disappeared out of the hole.

And he was alone again in the dirt.

A hand thrust out of the brightening sky, and he grabbed it with relief and felt himself once more being hoisted out of the ground, just like those months before. He scrabbled on his stomach and lay there, breathing heavily. All he could see was dirt and Greg's knees, and then the touch of his hand as it stroked his hair.

"You haven't had a dream that bad for a while." Greg said matter-of-factly.

Nick felt like he was going to vomit. "It was bad."

"I'm sorry I put us in there." Greg whispered.

"It had to be done."

Greg knew, but it didn't stop his feelings of guilt. "Breakfast?" he suggested.

Nick half-groaned, half-chuckled at the thought of the sugary masses contained within Greg's backpack. "I don't think I could stomach any of that crap right now."

"You need energy." Greg started going through the backpack's contents. "Here's some plain chocolate. At least have some of that."

Grimacing, Nick unwrapped the bar while Greg chose another one for himself.

"Any water left?" Nick asked.

Greg handed him a bottle, and they both looked at the meagre amount left within it.

"Shit." Nick breathed.

"There's about the same left in the other bottle." Greg informed him.

"We need to find water." Nick said.

"We need to find a lot of things." Greg replied. "Like, an exit."

"If Bugs Bunny was here he would just draw one on a tree trunk and step through it into the lab." Nick grinned.

"Nah, he would probably make a left at Albuquerque and totally miss it." Greg shrugged.

Nick got to his feet, shakily. "Hate to be the bad guy, G, but it's light enough for us to get going again."

"You're never the bad guy, Nicky." Greg reached out his hand so Nick could pull him up off the ground.

They left behind the hole in the ground, the source of their nightmares.

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

It had been a long night, and they were well into a double shift as the sun started to make its presence known. Yet nobody, not even the lab techs, were starting to make noise about going home. Grissom doubted that even if he started pulling people aside and telling them that they should leave they would probably just assemble in the break room and wait for news to filter back, whether it be good or bad.

But tired eyes and pinched mouths were starting to become more pronounced. All televisions scattered throughout the offices were tuned into the local news channels, and people clustered around them in small groups between running tests and returning from crime scenes. Catherine and Warrick were back, and neither of them had come to report to Grissom yet. He could see them come in, exhausted, but they went straight to Sara for an update. He watched them sag visibly as Sara obviously told them there was nothing new to disclose.

Grissom sighed as Warrick stalked off to collect himself in some private corner. Catherine remained with Sara, her back deliberately set against Grissom's office. Sara looked over her shoulder at one point to meet his eyes, and then quickly looked away again.

He knew he should call Catherine in, talk to her about her attitude, and once he had her calmed her down to discuss what he had found in Nick's folder. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, it was a dangerous thing to do in this line of work - so he would have preferred a colleague's professional opinion. But he didn't think Catherine was going to give an inch at the moment.

Greg Sanders' file hadn't given him anything out of the ordinary. His emergency contact details were still only for his parents, which added another question mark to the whole business. Why would Nick's details ask for Greg to be contacted if Grissom was correct in what he was supposing, and not vice versa? Could it just be an oversight, as Greg was less fastidious with his paperwork than Nick was?

His thoughts were interrupted by somebody clearing their throat.

He looked up to see Catherine standing by the door, looking apologetic.

"Come in." he said, in what he hoped was a conciliatory tone.

Catherine nodded, and sat down across from him. "Look, Gil. I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

"You were upset. We all were."

"Goddamit, Gil, stop being so understanding, I am trying to apologise here!" Catherine's eyes flashed with anger again.

He held up his hands in defeat.

"Anyway, I planned on being angry at you for a lot longer, but I was standing out there watching the news, and I realised that it was useless to do so. So I came in here."

Grissom nodded. "Apology accepted."

"That's it?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

He nodded. "That's it."

She leaned back in her chair. "Huh."

"Actually, I'm glad you came in here. I want to ask you---"

He was interrupted by Sara yelling Warrick's name, then running into Grissom's office while snapping her cellphone shut.

Grissom stood, his anticipated discussion with Catherine about Nick's file forgotten. "What is it, Sara?"

Sara looked behind her, to see Warrick skidding to a halt at the doorway. "The rangers just called me. They were able to contain the fire near the Tahoe, but it's only one of many fires spreading throughout the park."

She paused for breath, only to have all three practically yell at her for more information.

"The Tahoe was empty. There is no sign of either Nick or Greg."

"That's a good sign, right?" Warrick asked.

Sara nodded. "Their resources are pushed to the limits, but they are prepared to let us come in if we stick to the areas they will allow us access to."

It was the best news he had heard for hours. Grissom reached for the jacket hanging on the back of his chair. "We have a scene to process, and our friends to find."

***

Nick was relieved that the sun was now back in the sky, as he could see that they hadn't strayed too far off their chosen path. Although the smoke was getting thick again, and he could tell this just as much as from Greg's increasing coughing fits (which were making his own stomach twist with each successive one), he could also make out they were still a relatively safe distance from the closest fire.

"You know what?" Nick said, with his first true flush of happiness. "I think we're going to get out of here before nightfall."

Greg didn't answer. He had started retching, and staggered away. He bent over and with a mix of coughing and hacking he threw up a thin, brownish liquid. Nick was at his side within seconds, cursing himself inwardly for thinking the day would let them go without sticking it to them in some way yet again.

Greg retched again, but nothing came up this time. He sagged against Nick, unable to speak. Nick rubbed helplessly at the back of his neck, feeling Greg jerk below his touch as the retching continued. Gradually it subsided and Greg wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Nick, remembering the soiled bandanna in his backpocket, dug it out and grimaced at the sight of Greg's dried blood which had not entirely disappeared despite the rinsing out he had given it. Had it really only been the day before? It seemed like weeks now.

He opened one of the bottles of the water and splashed as much water as he thought they could spare through the fabric.

"Don't waste it." Greg said, hoarsely.

"I'm not wasting it." Nick said wryly. He beat the bandanna against his thigh and then leaned over Greg, folding the bandanna against his nose and mouth and tying it behind his hair. "I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier."

Greg had to admit the cool fabric against his face was helping the air circulate in his lungs a bit better as they were now getting semi-filtrated oxygen.

"Better?" Nick asked, his eyes full of concern.

Greg nodded, although he didn't want to rely upon the bandanna too much. Their water was too low, and he didn't know if they would come across any natural sources before the day was out. And the sun was beginning to burn harshly already, even at this early hour.

"Do I look like a bank-robber?" he asked, muffled beneath the fabric.

Nick grinned. "Very Sundance Kid."

"Excellent." his voice cracked, and he decided not to strain it any further. Nick didn't say anything else, but he drew Greg into a fierce hug and then released him so they could start walking again.

-----------

"It's been sixteen hours since we last heard anything about them." Sara grimaced as she and Warrick drove on the highway. Mt Charleston was looming up ahead of them in the distance, covered in a bluish haze of smoke.

"I've been aware of the hours just as much as anybody else." Warrick replied testily.

"Tell me the truth, Warrick. Do you think they're…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word. Or words. Either dead or alive had too much weight behind them for her to speak them so simply.

"If I think they're…" Warrick stumbled over the word just as much as she did, "…then I won't be able to process the scene."

Sara nodded. The mountain, normally so innocent and beautiful whenever she had seen it before now looked like the biggest tomb she had ever seen.

She took a swig out of her bottle of water, as if it could wash away her thoughts.

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

The bandanna was getting dry too quickly; and if the smoke wasn't making him gag the smell of his own, aging, blood was enough to start the reflex. But Greg kept swallowing it down, because he could feel Nick's gaze upon him almost every second, and he was trying to keep him from stressing out. Not that it was working of course, because even though he hadn't coughed or thrown up for a short while it wasn't stopping Nick from looking out for it.

A recognisable shape up ahead swam into his vision, and Greg blinked.

If I was in a desert, that would be a mirage he thought.

You ARE in a desert, you idiot another part of his brain responded.

See, it IS a mirage, then his brain continued to argue with itself.

Nick interrupted his descent into lunacy. "G, am I imagining that?"

Cool, Nicky's going crazy too.

He attempted to sound reasonably calm. "The house?"

"Yes, G, the house."

So, it was a house and not a cruel vision cooked up by himself. The roof had been the first to appear, terracotta tiling peeking between the trunks of trees. As they got closer the walls had become apparent, a dirt driveway leading up to the garage, a child's swing hanging in the clearing before it.

"I'm not going to believe it until we have been invited in for some iced tea." Greg replied.

"The owners have probably been evacuated." Nick reminded him.

"Well, they probably have some in the fridge." Greg broke into a run.

"Greg!" Nick yelled out after him, but it was useless. He began to jog after him.

Greg was pushing himself. His lungs protested against the shock to the system as they had to work harder. He began coughing again, but he wasn't going to stop now. He could hear Nick yelling after him, but all he had on his mind was the house and rescue. As he passed the garage, he observed it was locked and this made his heart sink a little as he realised it meant that what Nick said was true and they had most likely moved on as soon as they had heard of the fires.

It didn't stop him from banging on the door, however, and yelling out a greeting. Then he began hacking again.

Nick came up behind him, panting. "Smooth, Greg."

Greg banged upon the door again, but there was no movement from within.

"Dammit!" he yelled.

"I'll look for a spare key." Nick began to look around for possible hiding places, immediately sighting a collection of cactuses in pot plants. "They must have one somewhere."

"No time." Greg said shortly, turning his back on the glass panels of the front door, drawing back his elbow and punching it through. The glass shattered easily, making Nick start and whirl around.

"Jesus, Greg!"

Greg was already thrusting his hand through the frame and scrabbling for the lock. "We'll leave a note. Ecklie can reimburse them."

"Are you going to eat their porridge too, Goldilocks?" Nick asked, slightly stunned at this new take-charge attitude.

"You know I hate oatmeal." Greg gave a small whoop of triumph as the door opened and he stepped through.

With relief, they stepped out of the sun and into the coolness of the house.

***

"Nice house." Greg mused; coughing into the back of his hand, after pulling the bandanna down from his face and leaving it around his neck. "If it wasn't for the fact that it's smack bang in the middle of surroundings that I never want to come back to again, I would say this should be the kind of house that we buy."

Nick began looking about for the telephone. "I would prefer something closer to work, anyway." He spied it in a hallway running off the living-room.

"An hour's commute each way." Greg replied, making his way to the kitchen. "You're right. I would like somewhere that I could just roll out of bed and get to work within twelve minutes."

Picking up the receiver, Nick snorted. "You wouldn't even be able to do your hair in twelve minutes."

"I heard that." Greg called out from the next room.

"You were meant to!" Nick yelled affectionately.

There was no dial-tone. Nick sighed, and pointlessly jiggled the receiver in hopes of reconnecting to a working line. It remained dead.

"Phone lines are down." he called.

In the kitchen, standing before the sink, Greg closed his eyes briefly. "There's a surprise." he muttered. He turned on the tap, and there was a cynical part of him that was expecting the mains to be dry. However, he was rewarded with a steady stream of clear, cool water.

Nick appeared behind his shoulder. "Great!" He pulled the backpack off his shoulders and dug through it for their bottles.

Greg started filling them. "We should try and take more than those dinky little bottles though, just in case."

Nick nodded, and started investigating the cupboards. He had a minor brainwave and looked beneath the sink, where he found three thermoses. "That should be more than enough. We're going to get out of here by the afternoon, remember?"

"I remember." Greg humored him. "Now, let's see if there's any decent food in the cupboards so I don't have to hear you complaining about my snack-cakes again."

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

All four CSIs had taken in a deep breath when they first came upon the wreckage of the Tahoe. Catherine and Grissom were already at the car when Sara and Warrick drove up.

Catherine began snapping on a pair of gloves she had taken out of her kit. "Griss, if they came down in that thing…"

Grissom looked at her sharply. "They're not in the car, Catherine, so they didn't."

"We don't know that." Warrick came up behind them, and caught the end of their conversation. He looked up the side of the ravine. "They may have… fallen out on the way down."

Sara shaded her eyes for a moment from the sun, but in reality it was to collect her thoughts and sniff back the threat of tears. "I'm a good hiker. I'll start making my way up the ravine for... evidence."

Grissom nodded. "Be careful. Warrick, you go with her. Catherine and I will handle the vehicle."

When the two younger CSIs were out of earshot, Catherine gave Grissom a pained look. "Was that wise?"

He seemed dumbfounded. "What?"

"What if Nick and Greg are up there? It should have been us to… find them."

"Stop talking like they're dead, Catherine."

She looked as if she was ready to lay into him again, like she had the previous night. But they were interrupted by a ranger's van pulling up beside them. They walked up to meet the driver, a young man who looked like he was barely out of high school.

"Gil Grissom?" the ranger asked, jumping out of his van. At Grissom's nod, he shook both their hands. "I'm Paul Schultz. I was the last to see your men."

"How did they appear?" Catherine asked immediately.

"Well, I didn't speak to them for very long. They told me they had been in an accident…"

"You said the younger one was injured?" Grissom interrupted. "How badly?"

"He was bloody… but it had dried." Schultz said, taking off his hat and wiping at his sweating forehead before placing it back on. "From what I could see, it looked like a head wound. The older one looked fine. But neither of them seemed concerned about it, they just wanted to leave the mountain and get back to work once I told them about the evacuation."

"Did you actually see them leave the crime scene?" Catherine asked.

Schultz shook his head. "No, I just left them. I had to keep going on to the scene of one of the fires."

"And how far from here was the point where you saw them?"

"About two miles." Schultz shaded his eyes and looked up to where Sara and Warrick were making their way up the ravine. "I've already gone along the road which the car would have come from, but I couldn't see anything."

Grissom nodded. "Thank you for coming and talking to us. I take it we're safe from the fire here for the moment?"

"Yes, we're battling it on two different fronts now but you're right in the safety zone." Schultz made his way back to his van. "It goes without saying, but I hope you find your men safe."

Catherine turned her attention to the Tahoe. "So do we."

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


"You do know muesli bars are full of sugar?" Greg raised an eyebrow as Nick began stuffing the contents of a box of them into the backpack.

"They're a damn sight healthier than the other stuff we have." Nick shrugged. He opened the fridge. "Aha, fruit!"

"Healthy is over-rated."

"Tell me that in ten years time when your metabolism starts catching up with your intake." Nick snarked.

"Look at my physique." Greg scoffed. "This is all genetics, baby."

Nick grabbed some apples, oranges and bananas out of the fruit drawer. "I feel really guilty going through all these peoples' stuff. I hope they understand."

"Man, Nicky, you're talking like you've never done a break and enter before."

Nick spun around. "And you have?"

"Well, not a stranger's house."

"Is this another ‘my wild and crazy youth' story?"

Greg smiled. "I'll save it for another time."

"You know, if it's not a stranger's house I don't think that it is technically a break and enter."

"Don't fight me with semantics. Doesn't work." Greg opened the pantry that Nick had just been searching in.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked, exasperatedly.

"Just looking to see if they have anything I'd like to eat."

Nick yanked the bandanna from his neck and rinsed it under the tap. "I think we've done enough here."

"Maybe we could just stay here and wait out the fire." Greg said tiredly. "Those couches looked really soft."

"There's a reason this family was evacuated." Nick handed him the bandanna, and Greg reluctantly tied it back around his neck. "It's probably not safe."

"Yeah," Greg sighed. "I know."

"I know it's a tempting thought."

Greg shrugged. "Just not a valid one."

Nick slung the backpack over his shoulder and followed Greg through the hallway, almost slamming right against his back when he stopped suddenly. "What?"

Greg pointed to their right. "Is that a door to the garage?"

"Yes…" Nick drawled, before a grin lit up his features. "Are you proposing we add Grand Theft Auto to our break and enter charges?"

"If they've left any Auto for us to Grand Theft, sure do." Greg was already heading for the door, and once he reached it he threw it open.

It was dark in the garage, and Greg felt around for the light switch.

Come on, just one lucky break! Well, luckier than finding this house and getting water, even though the phone lines were down…

They both winced at the sudden light that flooded the small space, and Greg whooped in delight.

Although all signs of any cars that were housed there indicated that they had been taken, a bright red quad-bike glinted as if it was in a cartoon and had tiny pin-pointed stars reflecting upon its surface.

Nick inspected the ignition. "No keys." he frowned.

"Well, they're not just going to leave them there just in case two people stumble in from a bushfire and need a getaway car, are they? And to think you're a level 3 CSI, Nicky…" Greg chided him good-humouredly.

Nick rolled his eyes, but was pleased Greg was flaring back into his old self. The discovery was definitely a boon to their moods.

Greg walked over to the work bench on the far side of the garage and observed the row of nuts and bolts which were housed in a series of jars. "Never fails." he mused, starting to screw them open and scattering the contents across the bench. Nick walked over and started tackling the jars from the other side.

Success was achieved on the ninth jar when a pair of keys fell amongst the spread-out screws. "Thank you for predictable people." Greg breathed, scooping up the keys and pulling the bandanna back over his nose and mouth now that he knew they were leaving again.

He ran over to the quadbike, and jumped upon the driver's seat. Nick pulled up the garage door, and sagged against the frame with relief as he realised that the smoke was getting thicker again. Wherever the fire was, it looked like it was coming their way but this time they would have speed on their side. He just hoped they wouldn't drive into the middle of it.

With a short burst of power, Greg had the bike reversed and out the door. Nick pulled it back down, and turned to look at his partner.

Greg gunned the engine with a wicked smile. "You're riding shotgun, cowboy."

***

Sara was methodical with her search pattern. Warrick watched her move ahead of him, bitterly trying to repress the thought that they were wasting time. Nick and Greg weren't in the Tahoe, and as far as he could see they weren't lying on the ravine. This meant that they were anywhere but where their friends and colleagues currently were. And he doubted that anything they found would give them an indication of where they could be, and their current state of injury.

"Found anything yet?" he asked, for lack of anything else to say.

"Don't you think I would have told you, if I had?" she called back over her shoulder.

Instead of snapping back, Warrick calmly realised that she was probably having the same thoughts he was.

Where the hell are they?

"Hey, Warrick!" Sara yelled. "Come here!"

He stumbled up to her as quickly as he could. She used a long twig to push aside a pair of sunglasses, one of the lenses smashed beyond repair.

"Aren't these…"

"Nick's." he confirmed, around a lump in his throat. Those stupid sunglasses Nick had been wearing lately, which looked like he had stolen them from the U2 wardrobe department the last time they toured Vegas.

"This doesn't mean anything." Sara said, more to convince herself than him. "It's just debris that fell out of the car."

"Of course it is." Warrick bagged the sunglasses, feeling sweat pooling at the back of his neck.

Sara swore under her breath. "Do you want to know something, Warrick? When I last saw Greg I was doing paperwork, and he was just being his usual self. You know, bouncing around, talking non-stop. I told him to quit bugging me, that he was annoying the crap out of me. That was the last thing I said to him!"

Warrick smiled, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Sara, no offence… but you being in a snappy mood isn't new to anyone. It wouldn't have affected him."

Sara tried to smile, but could only grimace. "Thanks, Warrick. Is that how you sweet-talk your wife?"

"All I'm saying is, we can't be self-conscious everytime we leave a room that whatever we say will be our last words to someone. I can practically guarantee you that Greg wouldn't have thought anything of it."

"But I think something of it."

"Well, you can apologise to him later." In an attempt to make her smile again, he said lightly, "Anyway, you know Sanders. He annoys the crap out of everybody. Well, except Nick. But he has the patience of a saint."

Sara gave a small grin. "Yeah, he's about the only one who could have put up with Greg all night."

They continued to make their way up the ravine, collecting more debris as they came across it.

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

Catherine was still giving him the cold shoulder. Grissom watched her collect loose objects from the Tahoe's cab and bag them. He turned his attention back to the dashboard, where he was scraping blood away into a petri dish.

"It looks like somebody hit their head on the steering wheel." he told Catherine in an attempt to get her to talk to him more than anything else.

Catherine sighed, but granted him a look of acknowledgement. "Too bad we can't tell whether it is from the first accident or this one." She slammed the car door and crossed past Grissom to start packing away her evidence baggies. "Two accidents in one day! Does the universe have it in for them? Have they not suffered enough?"

"It's probably what bonds them together." Grissom said, lost in thought.

Catherine snapped her kit shut. "Huh?"

He still didn't know whether he should tell her, but she was taking on more and more responsibilities with her job to the point where they were almost equals in authority with their crew. "Nick has Greg listed as his primary emergency contact. I only found that out last night when I accessed his personnel file."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, they are good friends."

"He listed Greg over his parents."

Catherine's mind was turning over, but she still stuck to all other possible scenarios. "Maybe he put Greg at the top so if something happened to him the first person notified would actually be someone in the same state, someone who would get to him quickly…" she trailed off as she began remembering all the little looks, touches, secret smiles she had seen exchanged between the two men and how it all seemed innocent enough… but when examined in hindsight… "Was Nick listed on Greg's records?"

Grissom shook his head. "Only his parents."

"So what makes you think they're a… couple?" Catherine still found it strange to put into words, as it had only occurred to her in the past thirty seconds.

"Gut instinct."

"Did you call their parents?"

Grissom's face fell. "No. I never got around to it."

Catherine exhaled heavily. "You are unbelievably clueless, Gil."

"I got distracted… first by the folder, then by the call telling us we could come out here."

Catherine got back to her feet. "We should go and check out where the Tahoe went off the road. I'll let Sara and Warrick know what we're doing."

Grissom watched her lithely climb up the ravine. "You haven't answered my question!"

"You never asked one!" she yelled back.

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

It was surreal.

Nick felt as if he was in another dreamland - one of forest surroundings and imbibed with heavy grey smoke that gave the setting an eerie quality. It didn't help that he was standing upright, hanging onto the arm rest at the back of the driver's seat. Feeling like he was flying amongst the trees, he could hear Greg giggling as he swerved the quadbike between the tree trunks and soaring over the various depressions in the soil. He had a feeling that Greg was getting a bit too caught up in the thrill of the ride, and was treating it like he was playing a video game.

"Hey!" he yelled in Greg's ear, above the noise of the engine. "You don't want to throw me off, do you?"

Greg eased off the accelerator, and the ride immediately became easier for Nick. His knuckles began to gain colour and he loosened his grip on the seat.

He could hear Greg coughing through the bandanna, and he reached for the water bottle he had stuck in the area between the shift and the seat. Greg took the bottle off him and splashed some of it into his own face so that the bandanna was damp and working as a roughshod filter once more.

Nick's heart was beginning to feel lighter - this was the best their situation had been looking since it had all begun, only the day before. If he switched off part of his brain he could almost believe that this was just a day off for him and Greg, riding through the mountains, just having fun dirtbiking.

Greg couldn't wipe the smirk off his face. Although his lungs were strained, and he could taste the coppery threads of blood at the back of his throat from where he was coughing himself raw; it didn't seem all that bad at the moment. The wind was on his face, he was enjoying riding the bike, Nick was at his back. All he had to do was wait for the penny to drop.

Which of course, it did.

After about forty minutes of travel, the bike started to shake beneath them and lose power. Greg looked down and saw the fuel gauge was empty and the warning light was on.

"What is it?" Nick yelled.

The bike rolled to a silent stop.

"Fate." Greg said, resignedly.

Nick jumped off the back off the bike and walked around to look him in the eye. "Let me guess! We're out of gas?"

Greg's grip on the steering-wheel tightened as anger and despair coursed through his body as if they were electricity seeking an exit point. He slammed his fists against the wheel, then jumped out. "Fuck!" he screamed, and kicked the nearest tree to him.

Nick stayed back, letting him get it out of his system. It wasn't like Greg to get so wound up, but he could understand. Man, could he understand.

Greg slumped to the ground and brought his knees up to his chest. "I'm not going to say anything. It would just invite the gods to throw more crap upon us for fun."

"Look, we got a lot further in the last hour than we would have had we been walking." Nick said collectedly. "The smoke doesn't seem as bad here. I don't think we can be that far from a main road now, even if we have been going off the beaten track deliberately."

"Nothing much we can do but go on, huh?" Greg got to his feet, a hint of anger still in his voice. "Just keep going on."

"Come on, Frodo."

It got the reaction he hoped for. Greg gave a defeated grin, shook his head, and they began walking once more.

***

Catherine pulled her sunglasses off her head and pointed out a section of the road to Grissom. "That looks like it."

Grissom pulled their Denali over the side of the road, and they jumped out. A break of the dirt siding to the road and a set of tyre prints indicated that this would have been the point where the Tahoe had crashed into the ravine.

Catherine peered over the side of it, where she could see Sara and Warrick not that far below. She waved at them, and they returned it before continuing their debris collecting. She glanced back to see Grissom following the tracks from where they led off the road.

"There's some rubber-burn marks here." he told her, pointing them out. "There isn't any sign of another car, though."

Catherine placed her hands on her hips, and surveyed the area from where she stood. Her attention was captivated by a break in the scrub opposite to the burn marks. She walked over, and found a set of prints that she knew only too well as they reminded her of many expensive cheques being written out to make her daughter Lindsay happy.

"It was a horse." she shifted aside as Grissom came over to see for himself.

He gave a satisfied grunt, then looked back at the road. "They obviously didn't hit it - there's no blood or broken glass on the road."

Catherine studied the tyre treads closely. "The burn marks show that in all likelihood they swerved to avoid it, and lost control before they went over."

They walked back over to the edge of the ravine, where Sara and Warrick were now almost getting to the top.

"I think it's fair to say they're not in the ravine." Grissom remarked.

"There's paint on this tree trunk!" Sara yelled out. She began walking back from it, looking at the ground. "Warrick, there are footprints here!"

It didn't take long to ascertain that the footsteps were headed back up to the road, where Catherine and Grissom now stood.

"They're alive." Catherine breathed.

"Well, we know that they survived the crash. From that point on, we are still in the dark." Grissom reminded her.

She couldn't look at him. She shook her head and walked away to collect herself, but paused when the sound of a car engine interrupted her thoughts. It was Paul Schultz, braking to a hurried stop and looking frenzied.

"Gotta get you guys out of here!" he yelled.

Grissom walked over to his window. "Is there a problem?"

Schultz nodded, his face flushed. "The fire just over from here, they thought they had it contained, but it's broken out again. Just to be on the safe side, I'm going to take you to the ranger's office until it's under control."

"I'll go tell Sara and Warrick." Catherine told Grissom, and made her way back to the ravine.

"How many different outbreaks are there?" Grissom asked of the young ranger.

"Four." Schultz replied. "But we've just heard about a new one starting up towards the bottom of the mountain and are sending a team to combat it."

Grissom looked back over to Catherine, and watched her helping Sara and Warrick the last few steps back onto the road.

"We'll forget about the other car for now," he yelled over to them, "and we'll follow Officer Schultz."

"Should we really leave it down there?" Warrick asked.

"We've got other things to worry about." Grissom said, shortly.

As the four CSIs got into the single SUV, their minds were all mulling over the fact that they were no closer to knowing what had happened to Nick and Greg and where they were at this moment. And this was coupled with the knowledge that the fires were still in no way close to being extinguished.


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



The vegetation was starting to change around them, going from trees to scrub. The ground was also levelling out more, becoming drier and more desert-like. To Nick it was a relief as it meant they were getting further away from the mountain, and hopefully further away from the fire.

"You should have grabbed the cell phones as well as the Twinkies yesterday," he said lightly, "we could have tried testing for a signal again."

Greg smiled ruefully at him. "I'm pretty sure my cell phone was massacred inside the cab. And if I had to choose between it and a Twinkie, the Twinkie would always win."

Nick made a face. "Bad choice, man."

Greg coughed behind the bandanna. "I'm still just dreaming of the burger and shake we were meant to be having twelve hours ago."

"I'm past hunger. I just want a shower and about two days of sleep in my nice, comfortable bed."

"Sounds lonely." Greg chided him.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind company." Nick grinned, giving him a wink.

"That sounds more like it---" Greg broke off and tilted his head.

Nick turned back to look at him. "Wha---"

He heard it now as well. A low, muffled rumbling that seemed to be coming from their left, but further inwards from where they stood.

"That sounds like a car!" Greg turned on the spot, trying to ascertain exactly where the sound was coming from.

But Nick already had a fix on it. "Come on!"

He began to run through the scrub, Greg at his heels but having more difficulty. Although the excitement was pumping adrenaline throughout Greg's body it was having trouble maintaining a run, as his lungs were still suffering due to the smoke. He pushed himself regardless, as he didn't want to cause them to miss this one opportunity for rescue.

Nick wasn't either, he knew that Greg was falling behind but he couldn't wait. It was better to attempt to get to the vehicle first and then come back and get Greg. It didn't sound like the car was that far away. He crashed through the shrub, and as he put down his right foot he felt nothing but air. Too long a second afterwards, his foot thumped against a sandy slope and gravity pushed his body down with too much momentum for him to gain his balance, and he crashed onto his side and began to roll.

Greg saw him disappear too quickly, and stopped himself just in time to discover that the area of shrub Nick had just ran through was actually the edge of a small hill. He heard himself screaming Nick's name as he watched Nick roll heavily below him.

Nick tucked in his arms as close to his sides as he could, and offered a faint prayer that the ground would level soon, as he hadn't even had enough time to take note of that fact as he had first fallen. He felt stones and debris rip at his clothing and skin, but knew that the real pain wouldn't begin to be felt until the shock wore off. After what felt like too long a time, but which he knew would probably have only been seconds, he hit a tarred surface and his momentum abruptly ceased.

He lay still, struggling for breath, not wanting to move. He could hear Greg calling out to him, but he couldn't speak.

Greg made his way down the slope, half-sliding, half-running. His heart was in his chest as he could see Nick was not getting up. But just as he was about to reach him, Nick slowly sat up, looking around himself in a daze.

Greg grabbed him by the shoulder, and Nick winced. "Jesus, Nicky! Are you hurt?"

Nick considered making a joke about how the only thing that hurt was his pride, but he was in too much pain. "I'll be okay."

"Hey, you found a road!" Greg helped him to his feet. "You had that planned all along."

Nick laughed, and then grimaced and put a hand on his ribs.

Greg was about to go into mother hen mode, when they remembered why they were in such a hurry to get to this position in the first place.

A fire truck burst into their vision from around the corner just up ahead of them. Greg stepped in front of Nick, waving his hands wildly while also pulling the bandanna off his mouth so he didn't look like he was attempting a robbery, and yelling out entreaties to stop.

Which it did, quickly, as it had been speeding through, not expecting to see two dishevelled men in the middle of the road they were travelling upon.

At the sound of screaming brakes, the most beautiful sound they had heard in hours, Greg looked back at Nick. "We're saved!"

Exhausted, dirty and yet strangely ebullient, Nick wondered whether they were too young to consider an early retirement.

***

Next part of Into the Fire.