Previous part of Into the Fire.

***

Feeling like he was going to keel over for a moment, Nick hooked a finger into one of the back loops of Greg's cargo pants. It steadied him, and Greg felt the pressure and stepped back so Nick could lean against him momentarily.

The four faces in the fire-truck cab looked out at them with interest, and the driver rolled down his window.

"Let me guess." the driver grinned. "You're the missing CSIs from the city?"

"We sure are!" Greg said with an attempt at joviality that he in no way was experiencing, shielding his eyes against the sun and looking up at him. "I don't suppose we can get a lift back with you, huh?"

"It's your lucky day." the driver replied.

"Finally, it's our lucky day." Nick repeated, against Greg's neck.

"Hang on, Nicky." Greg whispered as the back firetruck door was opened for them. "We're almost out of here."

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

In the ranger's office at the top of the mountain, the four other CSIs had been supplied with coffee and donuts – the expected meal for any kind of law official. Surprisingly, despite their concern they were all hungry enough to start wolfing them down straight out of the box.

Sara grabbed a second serving of powdered, wrapped the bottom half in a napkin and moved with her coffee over to the large window that overlooked the valley below. She sucked in a breath as she took note of the fire that was raging near the bottom of the mountain, closing in on two different angles.

She felt a presence behind her, and in the reflection saw that it was Catherine. She could read in her face that she was feeling the same sudden shock she had experienced.

"It's bad." Catherine murmured.

"And we're safe up here." Sara said in the monotone which indicated that she was in fact enduring too much emotion. "But they're somewhere..." she threw out her hand to take in the wide expanse of fiery land.

"I didn't think we would be doing this again so soon." Catherine closed her eyes, instantly remembering the events two months previously. Once they had gotten Nick back safely, she had thought to herself that they had had their quota of tragedy and that should be it as far as fate should be concerned.

And she couldn't help but think of what Grissom had told her earlier. If it was true, it just made everything even more horrible - if that was at all possible. After everything Greg and Nick had been through, alone and together, to have kept secret a happiness that they shared... and now both of them in danger again...

She couldn't bear to think of the possibilities, of them suffering. She steeled herself, but it was inevitable that her thoughts kept turning to the more pessimistic outcomes.

Sara put her donut down on the windowsill, her hunger forgotten. But she didn't let go of the coffee, it was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. "Neither did I."

In the glass she could see Warrick and Grissom coming up behind them. Not a word was spoken but they all looked down into the fire, united by safety and worry.

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


Their rescuer's name was Harry, that was as much as Greg could remember at the moment. He and Nick had been introduced to the other firemen in the truck, but they hadn't been able to retain their names or keep their identities separate as exhaustion was setting upon them rapidly. Relief had given way to an almost lackadaisical acceptance, and the two CSIs climbed into the back of the cab and sagged into the only space available for them. It was a tight squeeze, and because they were crammed in it kept them from slumping to the floor and letting unconsciousness claim them.

"How long have you guys been out there?" Harry asked, looking back at them via the rearview mirror.

"Since yesterday afternoon." Greg had replied, after realising that Nick couldn't even seem to put together any words at the moment. "We had a car accident, and realised that the fire was going to cross the road anyhow, so we moved into the valley."

"Well, we've been hearing it all over the radio to look out for you two, but I really didn't think we would be the ones to find you." Harry said, and the man next to him snorted in aknowledgement.

"Well, lucky for us you did." Greg shot a quick look over to Nick, who had closed his eyes, a slight tugging downwards of his lips indicating that he was in pain. "I think it was pure, dumb luck on our behalf though."

"We're on our way to one of the fires now." Harry told him, "but I'm just going to call in now and let them know we've found you. They'll probably send one of the rangers down to collect you and take you back to the station." He pulled the handset off the radio and began calling in to the station.

Greg let the sound drain away as he turned his attention back to Nick. "Hey, how are you?"

He wasn't asleep. "I'm fine, G."

"Liar." Greg muttered. He slipped his hand down into the little space there was between their legs, the heat he could feel from Nick's skin even through the fabric of his trousers giving him some sort of comfort. When all he really wanted to do was take Nick into his arms and hold him until they got to safety.

Nick must have felt it as well, because he sighed and conceded, "I'll be fine, G." He opened his eyes and smiled at him. Greg was relieved to see the dimples come in to play, meaning that the smile was reaching deeper than a mollifying façade upon his lips.

Anticipating that they were drawing closer to the fire, the men next to them started preparing, strapping equipment to themselves, joking with each other, the atmosphere heavy with nervous anticipation.

Greg looked out the window – and there it finally was. What they had been running away from for the past twenty-four hours – now right in front of them. They had fled only to end up going back into its path. The red, orange, and amber kaleidoscopes of wave-like flame; now appearing above the level of tree and scrub alike, devouring anything living and leaving behind scarred and blackened remnants that bore little resemblance to what they were before.

And that brief vision was all it took for him to be lying back on the floor of the lab, feeling molten glass land upon his back and burn through his coat and shirt, searing his skin and fixing them there, only to be removed later through surgery. Breathing in heat and smoke so thick it was like eating a meal. Hearing a scream that he thought was a siren until he realised his own voice was in harmony with it.

And he could hear his voice from the early hours of the morning. What if the fire isn't finished with me?

***

Paul Schultz made his way to the break area, thankful that he had happy news to report. To tell the truth, the four CSIs were proving to be a little intimidating – not that they had been unfriendly, but their obvious concern for their colleagues was painful to observe. Despite his age, through being a ranger Schultz had experienced far too many times when he and his work-mates had been in the same situation. It was never good to be waiting for the all-clear from people in the field.

Of course, they all jumped up as soon as he entered the room, looking at him expectantly.

"We found them!" he couldn't think of any simpler way to alleviate their fears. "We're sending somebody down to pick them up now. The fire-truck that rescued them was on its way to a scene so they can't bring them back themselves."

The news had the obviously desired effect. Catherine clapped her hands together, brought them up to her face and breathed against them with a sigh of heartfelt relief. Sara sagged against Warrick, only to find that he was doing the same with her, seeking support as their legs had suddenly grown a bit weak. Grissom remained impassive, although he took off his glasses and began to wipe them. Anybody who knew him was aware that this was tantamount to him bursting into tears and asking for a group hug.

"Man." Warrick said for all of them. "Those two have more lives than a cat."

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


Nick watched Greg's face coat with a thin sheen of sweat, that he knew wasn't coming from the heat outside of the truck. Unnoticed by the firemen who were preparing themselves, he reached down and squeezed Greg's knee. Distracted, Greg looked over at him.

Are you okay? Nick mouthed.

Greg nodded, flushed, and looked back out the window again.

At a loss for what to do, Nick sat back. The men next to him yanked their doors open and disappeared into the searing smoke. Greg started coughing again as it entered the cab.

Harry turned back. "Is he all right?"

I hope so, Nick thought, but replied, "He's just had damage from smoke inhalation before."

Harry's eyes flickered over Greg, and back to Nick. "In that small cupboard before you, there's a mask. If he gets much worse, put it on him."

Relief rushed through Nick. "Thank you."

The other man nodded. "Keep a look-out for the truck they're sending to get you. We won't be able to."

"You have no idea how grateful we are for you guys coming along when you did." Nick said sincerely. Greg nodded his agreement, his throat too constricted to choke anything out.

"All part of the job." Harry grinned. And then he swung himself down out of the cab, disappearing into the haze along with his team-mates.

Alone in the cab, Nick turned to Greg. "Let's get that mask on you."

Greg shook his head. "Save it for if it gets really bad."

"I think it's really bad already."

"Stop panicking." Greg watched the yellow-jacketed men disappear and reappear in the smoke that surrounded the truck as they started pulling out the hoses. He could see there were another couple of trucks pulling up around them, and he squinted. "Do you think one of them is ours?"

Nick squinted out the window. "No, they're all fire-trucks."

A wall of orange flame appeared above the trees not that far from their truck, and Greg unconsciously moved back into the comforting presence of Nick behind him. Nick trailed a hand behind his back and rested it on his hip. "Now, you stop panicking."

"I just want those people to come and get us out of here." Greg couldn't keep his eyes off the fire, and the arcs of water that looked so insignificant in the battle against it. How on earth was that going to put it out?

The drone of an engine made them turn around again to look behind the cab, but they realised it was another plane above their heads dropping a load of water from its belly. They watched it fall, a heavy sheet of liquid that seemed to evaporate before it even touched the flame. The only evidence that it existed was a slight mist that spattered the windows of the cab.

Nick pulled Greg against him. Greg rested his head against his chest, and Nick stroked the side of his head. Greg let out a sudden guffaw, which led to another choking fit, and although Nick was pleased to hear the laugh he was also mystified. "What?"

"No offence, but you stink, Nicky."

Nick bit his lip, smiling. "Well, you don't smell that good yourself, G."

Greg pulled away, still laughing, and looked back at him. He fingered the zip of Nick's vest, and it surprised him that in the middle of such a moment he could just lose himself in sheer happiness at Nick's presence, even while a firestorm raged around them, and he pulled Nick towards him, coming in for a kiss---

---and that was when the screaming started.

They both turned frantically, and pressed against the window. Although the smoke obscured much of the view outside, they could see one of the firemen lying on the ground as another smothered him with a fire-retardant blanket.

Greg's breath shallowed, and he could feel the floor beneath his feet waver, even though he was seated and had nowhere to fall. He swallowed heavily, as the cab continued to dance around him, and although he couldn't smell it from in here he knew what the man would be smelling – the smell of burned human flesh was different to other animal flesh, Greg knew from experience... and as the memory of that came back he could smell it again, except it was his own flesh. No one should know how their skin felt as if it was bacon in a pan. He could feel the bile rise in his throat, but there was nothing that he could really expel, so he retched helplessly. Nick once again holding him, as his body arched with each useless gasp.

"Greg, don't look---" Nick grabbed him, and turned him away from the window, having to physically move his head as it was locked into position. Greg breathed raggedly against his neck, his body still jerking.

The door to the cab was thrown open, and one of the firemen was helping his injured colleague in. Greg wrenched himself up, his eyes wide to take in the status of the man. He was able to sit up, and they were both relieved to see that what they could see of him that wasn't wrapped up in the blanket was not burned.

The uninjured man caught their looks. "It's horrible, but it's not as bad as it looks. The flames jumped, but only spread on his arm before we managed to get to him."

Greg shuddered.

The front doors opened and Harry and the other fireman jumped in. Harry turned back. "How is he?" he yelled, his face streaked with sweat and soot, and flushed with emotion.

"I don't know. He needs medical backup." His colleague replied, while the other man remained silent with the glassy-eyed stare of shock.

"What's going on?" Nick asked, feeling that he shouldn't really interrupt, but filled with his own concern as Greg seemed to be mirroring the shocked state of the injured fireman. He was also aware of suddenly how much warmer it was, sweat starting to run down the side of his face and collecting in a pool in the small of his back.

Harry looked at him with heartfelt sorrow. "I hate to tell you this, but you boys aren't out of it yet. We're penned in here, and that fire came in too fast."

"What---"

The fireman next to him started pulling materials out of the small cupboard behind his head. "It means we have no choice but to bunk down here and ride it out, and hope the fire passes over us as quickly as it possibly can."

Nick felt Greg moan almost inaudibly next to him. "Ride it out?"

Harry took some of the panelling off his colleague and handed some back to Nick. "Attach that to the hooks around your window, and both of you try to stay away from the doors themselves – don't touch them or rest against them." He opened a panel next to his steering-wheel and began punching buttons. Nick could hear the whirring of various instruments starting to activate around him.

"Hurry up!" the fireman next to him yelled, his eyes wild. "We don't have much time!"

Nick knew now that this was real, and very dangerous, and there was nothing else they could do. He leaned across Greg and began fastening the shading across their window, as a shutter began to roll down on its exterior.

The inside of the cab became dark, only lit by the various lights coming from the dashboard. And the heat was growing faster than he could ever have imagined.

Oh God, he suddenly thought. It's my dream... it's coming true.

He pulled the silent Greg back against him, and remembered the conversation they had shared the day before.

You think I would rather have someone suffering along with me?

I would. He could see Greg's earnest, honest expression as he said that. 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 now felt that the statement made in a different time, in a different circumstance, wasn't wholly true. He had been alone in the coffin, and he was with Greg now... and he knew in all sincerity that he would rather have Greg be anywhere but here. And if he were to ask Greg, Greg would probably answer the same way about him.

Love had an inbuilt protective streak, but there was no choice here for them. They were stuck in this situation together, as the heat continued to intensify and the sound of the fire began to resemble the roar of a lion seeking prey...

***

It feeds on all in its path, and when the path ends it only has to jump a small distance to find more to consume. It does it easily, and eagerly. Behind it there is a charred landscape – healthy trees turned to bone and scrub turned to brittle charcoal. It has left little parts of itself behind, where they still manage to find fresh matter to feast upon. But when that has gone those pieces die.

But the monster moves on. Occasionally it feels water thrown upon it, but like in ancient times of arrow against armour it does little to penetrate it and cause it to fall. It sends out its own minions, sharp bursts of flame that fire like bullets and find fresh victims. One man falls, screaming, and is quickly dragged off beyond the monster's current reach. It angers, drawing itself up again and unleashes its full fury. Scattered and defenceless, the men fall back and seek shelter.

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

Schultz put the receiver down, his heart heavy. He ran his hand over his face, a quick rub that he hoped would revitalise him... or wake him up. Unfortunately, he knew he was fully awake and this nightmare was real.

Fourteen men and women out in the field, battling one fire. And all of them trapped within their vehicles, caught out by flames that had tricked them by thinking they could be beat into submission but were just waiting for the right moment to break rank and cause a battle on opposing fronts.

And not only were his own colleagues caught, but two men from the crime lab in Vegas.

Sixteen men.

Harry Collins had told him that they would have to break contact until the fire had passed over. He had signed off with Schultz hearing the encroaching panic in his voice as they began to activate the emergency systems within the truck.

Schultz put in his own call for their medical services to go on standby, as they would be heading down there to go in as soon as the fire had passed on, and to treat the men immediately.

If... his brain started to think, but he cut that off.

He paused outside the break-out room, and looked at the four CSIs within. They were now relaxed, smiling, sharing easy conversation. They thought that their colleagues were on their way back to him. He envied their current disposition, and knew he had to go in there and destroy it.

He took a deep breath, and walked in. They all looked up, the smiles frozen on their faces until he began to speak and caused them to be wiped clean.

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

Just another small leap from consumed branches, and here is tougher prey. Paint and metal buckle slowly as it gnashes its fiery teeth to try and swallow it down. It searches for an entrance, sensing panicked movement within, but they have concealed themselves well.

It intensifies, as if its power can smash through. But its intended victim also has fight within it.

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

Nick was still attaching the shielding around the window, in the dark. He could feel the heat from outside, and he didn't want to think about how much worse it would be if the protective shielding hadn't rolled into place against the window. He was grateful for this small job, to take his mind off concentrating on his surroundings.

In the front seat, Harry was flicking switches on his dashboard, activating the emergency systems of the truck. He had refresher training every few months for such a catastrophe, but he had never truly believed he would have to utilise such knowledge. With the roller shields in place, he began arming the sprinkler systems which were attached to the exterior of the truck. Tests had shown that these systems should help the chances of survival for an entrapped team, yet the Las Vegas department had never had such a situation since the new trucks had been commissioned.

With the shielding in place, Nick sat back. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, although everybody in the cab were still little more than dark human shapes against a dark background. The fireman next to him was busying himself with the first aid supplies in the truck to deal with his colleague's injuries. Greg still hadn't spoken yet, and when Nick reached out to grasp his hand Greg's fingers were unresponsive. Nick felt like he was close to panic, unable to break through Greg's self-protective state of catatonia. He was drenched in his own sweat, back in another box, and although he was surrounded by other people he felt as if he was alone again.

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

"How can we just sit here?" Warrick said angrily, after Schultz had left the room.

"What do you suggest we do, Warrick?" Sara spat back. "Fly down there with our superpowers and put out the fire by breathing upon it?"

Warrick stormed across the room, halting before the large window. He looked down upon the valley, his hands defensively on his hips.

Grissom stood, slowly and calmly. "We cannot turn on each other now." he said. "We have to be here for each other, whatever comes of this situation."

"Whatever comes of it?" Catherine asked drily. "Lot of hope you're displaying there, Grissom."

"Greg and Nick will need our support when they come out of this." Grissom said firmly. "At times, in the past, I have been guilty of appearing to let things slide when something traumatic happens."

Catherine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"However, I have learnt from past mistakes." Grissom continued. "In order to be there for them when they come back to us, we have to be strong for each other now. Does anybody have a problem with that?"

Not surprisingly, nobody did. His words had the desired effect, and his simple belief that Nick and Greg would be returned safe strengthened their resolve. When, not if. It was amazing how the difference between two small words could create a radical difference in the mind.

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

The vehicle shudders slightly beneath the probing tendrils of flame. Small pipes, barely visible to the naked eye begin to pulse. Water shoots out in a fine spray, and the flames shrink back as if they have been burnt themselves by its touch. The water runs down the exterior of the truck, in places it turns into steam before it even makes contact with the surface, but it keeps pumping out steadily. It doesn't seek to beat back the heat or the flame, its purpose is to merely try and protect those within the vehicle for as long as possible in the hopes that the fire will jump and move onto another target.

The monster tries every angle possible, seeking for consumable material. Its hunger has not been satiated.

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

"Everybody, down on the floor! If you can't get on the floor, lie across the seats!" Harry instructed.

Sensing the movement around him, Nick could also sense Greg was remaining static.

The fireman next to Nick was attending his injured colleague. "I think it's best he stretches across the seat." he told Nick. "I'll take this one. You guys take the floor. We're wearing suits, you're not."

"Okay." Nick nodded, and pushed himself off his seat and landed on the floor on his knees. Greg still did not move. Nick grabbed him by the arm, and wincing, he yanked Greg down with him.

Down on the floor of the cab it was darker and even more cramped. Nick bit down on his lip, as if the pain would be able to fight the dread that was building up in him. Even with the presences of the other men, and the heat of Greg's body next to him, he might as well have been back in the coffin.

I can't do this, he thought. I have to get out of here, I cannot be trapped again...

He desperately reached out to Greg, who was lying on his stomach and staring away from Nick. He cupped his hand against the small of Greg's back and whispered, "Greg... please talk to me..."

***

It was as if he had burrowed into a small part of his brain which allowed him to become detached, even though every other fibre of his being was on the verge of screaming and letting a state of panic ensue. As soon as he had seen the fireman rolling on the ground with his arm aflame his body had shut down. Greg was in full-blown defence mode, unable to think or feel. It was the only way he could survive this.

He felt Nick hold him, but couldn't react. He became aware of the presence of the other firemen as they re-entered the truck, and could see the injured fireman. He stared at him, but his brain was numbed to the horror. He couldn't even feel any empathy for the man, because that would mean that he would have to remember his own burns again and his own pain. He recognised that the heat was rapidly increasing in the cab, and that Nick's breath against his ear as he stretched over him to do something to the windows was quick and short as if he was beginning to panic himself. Harry seemed to bark instructions from some distance away, and Nick disappeared from beside him. There was a part of his brain that protested Nick's absence, but it was quashed as Nick grabbed him in the dark and pulled him on to the floor.

The rubber was almost unbearably warm against his clothes and exposed skin. Nick lay across half of his body as there was that little space in which both of them could fit. His hands were at the small of his back and close to his neck. Above the roar of the flames outside and the other men in the cab yelling at each other he could hear Nick's voice, low and deep in his ear.

"Greg... please talk to me."

The raw tone betrayed the desperation and fear behind his words, and it reached Greg where he had retreated within himself. Like most people who can find it difficult at times to defend themselves, he found the power he needed when it came down to having to help someone else. Everything swam into sharp focus around him and he realised where they were, and how it appeared to Nick. Dark. Cramped. Trapped. Nick was back in the box.

He may have been trapped in his own nightmare and memories, but Nick was as well. And his wounds were fresher, and much more recent. True partnership was about being there equally, and here they were. He couldn't shut down.

"I'm here, Nicky. I'm here." he managed to gasp.

Nick closed his eyes, relieved that Greg had snapped out of it. The sound of his voice washed over him, and he felt his terror begin to subside.

"Oh, thank God, Greg... you were worrying me."

"It won't be much longer now." Greg continued, moving slightly so that he could face Nick, even though it was so dark he could only make out vague outlines of his features. "Remember what I told you yesterday?"

"You told me a lot of things yesterday."

"I told you that we were going to get out of here, remember? That we have too much to live for."

"You still think that?" Nick laughed bitterly. "Look at where we are, G!"

"I do believe it. You're strong, Nick."

In the dark, thankful that he couldn't see Greg's face, and feeling that death may not be that far away again, he felt that strange honesty that could only come in extreme moments. The weight of the secret that he had been keeping for months, the one thing that he had been too scared to admit to Greg for fear of what it may make him think about him was at his lips like bile, threatening to erupt.

"I'm not." he said finally.

"What?" Greg asked.

"I'm not strong. I never was." Nick closed his eyes, and Greg's hand in his own suddenly grew cold. It felt like the gun that had tempted him when all hope was lost.

"What do you mean, Nicky?" Greg whispered.

"Just before you guys came for me... I had the gun pressed under my chin. I was ready to pull the trigger." Nick started to choke. "I gave up."

Greg exhaled heavily. It was something that had occurred to him only hours after Nick had been rescued. He knew that Nick wouldn't have wanted to go out in such pain, gasping for air that would never come. He had known it was a possibility.

"I'm sorry I was ready to give up." Nick gasped between stifled sobs. "I should have fought harder."

"You fought as long as you could, Nicky." Greg said tenderly. "Nobody could ask more of you. But we got to you. And we're going to get out of this. We're cats in the sunshine, remember? We have eighteen lives between us. And I think we've only used about six so far."

Nick gave a low laugh, and sobered just as quickly again. "You don't... hate me for almost..."

"Never." Greg said firmly, although he offered an immediate silent prayer of gratitude to whoever was out there listening that they had gotten there in time. The reality of life had Nick not been in it was unbearable to think of.

The weight of the knowledge was now shared, and although the load was not alleviated fully it seemed to have become lighter. It would never go away, but it was better like this. He felt Greg's lips brush against his forehead, and despite everything a strange feeling of peace settled in conjunction with those others tormenting him.

The cupboard above them opened, and a weak light illuminated them. The uninjured fireman stared down at them, where they lay in each other's arms. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes flickered over Greg, whose vest had ridden up slightly and an expanse of his scarred flesh was visible. His eyes registered some kind of sympathy, and he quickly reached into the cupboard and pulled out a set of oxygen masks.

"Put these on." he said. "They should last us until it's safe for us to climb out."

Greg reached up and took them off him. "Thank you." he said, hoarsely.

The fireman nodded, grabbed a set for himself and his colleague, and closed the cupboard again. They were back in darkness.

Nick's head was reeling. They had been caught in an ‘uncompromising' position, and the world hadn't ended. Sure, they might not be met with such cool acceptance each time, but were those situations where they weren't so unbearable that they should sacrifice the ability to be happy and relaxed with each other like any other couple?

How many times did he have to go through something horrendous to remind him that life was for living? It seemed corny to be having such a revelation, but what else was a near death experience for? Okay, so he hadn't got the message clearly the first time around... okay, maybe even the second... but if he didn't learn the third time then maybe he didn't deserve his own happiness after all.

He felt Greg begin to attach the mask around his face, and before he slipped it over his nose he told Greg he loved him. If Greg registered surprise by such a public utterance, he wasted no time replying in the affirmative.

Cool, filtered oxygen began entering their systems, and it became easier to breathe.

***

The journey back down the mountainside was a sombre one.

It had been over two hours since Schultz had entered the break-room and informed them that Nick and Greg would not be brought back up, that the firetruck they were in had been caught in the blaze. That they were trapped in a ready-made oven, waiting for the fire to pass them over. That all contact had been lost with the trucks trying to contain the blaze, and it meant sixteen men and women were currently in mortal danger.

"We want to help." Grissom had told Schultz. "When the fire has passed over... we'll come down with you and process the scene. And..."

Although he didn't complete the sentence, everybody present knew what he was about to say. They would process the bodies if there were any.

One of the forestry service helicopters had radioed in a report that the fire had now passed over the trapped trucks, and the rangers began to pull out of their office and down to the scene. Schultz and his immediate supervisor headed a team of rangers in a convoy of trucks and medical vehicles, and the CSIs followed behind them in the Denali.

Catherine called Brass on their way to the scene. In the back, Sara and Warrick exchanged glances as they could hear Brass' tirade on the other end. Catherine calmed him down as best she could, and asked him to let the rest of the lab know the update and that she would call with news as soon as she could. When she disconnected the call she sighed. "They're not going to take that too well."

The haphazard nature of the fire began to be revealed to them. Where wind and water had interrupted its progress patches of green stood out in stark contrast against the blackened and almost unrecognisable landscape, and those patches of live scrub were few and far between.

"How could anything survive that?" Sara asked, before she could stop herself.

"Most of the firetrucks used here are built with flame retardant materials, and have other emergency systems made within the structure of the vehicle." Grissom said clinically. "Although nothing is truly flame resistant, it can do a lot to protect people who are trapped in a firebreak."

"I think what he's trying to say is don't give up hope yet." Warrick muttered.

It was easier said than done, however. The evidence of the ferocity of the fires was all around them.

Grissom eased on the brakes. "We must be here."

As they all leapt out, they could see the rangers and emergency techs running ahead of them. Three scorched, smoking firetrucks stood out amongst the blackened and charred scrub and trees. The CSIs stood in shock for a moment, their worst fears immediately springing to mind. It was Grissom who first started moving again, and they followed his lead.

Techs were already at the first truck, calling out and working upon the soldered doors with crowbars. Another group of techs moved onto the second, whose doors weren't as damaged and opened before they reached them. A woman stumbled out, pulling the oxygen mask off her face.

"Keep that on!" a ranger barked at her, and looked behind himself for one of the paramedics to attend to her.

Catherine got to her before Sara or Grissom. "Did you pick up two men on the road?" she asked.

The firefighter shook her head, coughing.

Warrick was at the third truck, waiting for them to cut back the doors. Catherine thanked the woman, and they moved on to the farthest truck. Its damage was substantial, and Catherine knew with a sinking heart that with all the bad luck Nick and Greg tended to have this was most likely the truck they had been in.

Just as she and Sara were about to reach it, the front door opened and a soot-streaked man emerged. Weakened, he fell to his knees. A paramedic called for a guerney as he helped him sit back.

"Were there two CSIs---" Sara began, and the man looked up at her and tried to talk but could only wheeze. He coughed, and nodded.

"Oh, thank God." Catherine murmured, and Sara let out a small gasp that was half joy and half shock.

"Grissom! Warrick!" Sara yelled over to where the two men were awaiting the opening of the third truck. "Over here!"

The two men immediately began to run over, their expressions set in stone.

Catherine was already pulling open the back door, and was met by the sight of a stranger starting to pull down an injured colleague. "Medic!" she yelled, and unapologetically set off for the other side of the truck.

The back door was already open, and a dishevelled and exhausted Nick Stokes was climbing out of the cab and reaching back within.

"Nick!" Sara yelled.

He turned around, and the look on his face was as palpable as that which was mirrored on those of his colleagues.

"Help me!" he rasped. "Greg---"

He was pulling the younger man down, who fell limply against him. Warrick was immediately as his side, helping him. They exchanged a quick, intense look that their long friendship managed to encapsulate so much information within: I'm so glad you're okay, I was really worried/I know you were, I'll be okay, and thanks for caring. Then their attention was back to Greg in seconds.

"We need a medic here!" Grissom yelled.

Greg moaned, and there was movement behind his closed eyes as he tried to fight back into consciousness.

"I passed out in there..." Nick said hoarsely. "And when I came round again Greg was still out of it."

A pair of medical techs had now reached them, and were placing Greg on a gurney. Nick kept holding onto his hand. "Come on G, wake up."

They were all standing around him now. Catherine had slipped an arm around Nick, certain now that the knowledge Grissom had shared with her earlier was correct.

"Pulse is steady." said one of the techs. "I'm setting up another line of oxygen." She looked up at Nick. "Sir, we'll have to start you on one as well. Let's get you loaded up on the ambulance."

"Come on, Nick." Sara said gently, starting to lead him towards the line of vehicles.

Nick looked back to where Greg lay. His eyes met Grissom's, and he saw concern and acceptance there. The techs began to push the gurney, and Nick rested a hand on the side. As they walked towards the waiting ambulances, Grissom pulled out his cellphone.

He watched his employees walk away, and the relief hit him hard as he realised he had been holding in the stress of the situation far too rigidly. His hands shook slightly as he pressed the number which acted as a speed dial to the lab.

"Man, Nick, you have to stop doing this to us." Warrick said. "I don't think I can through this again."

Normally Nick would have been happy to play along with the lighthearted post traumatic meltdown, but all he could do was smile ruefully as he stared down at Greg.

"He's going to be okay, Nicky." Catherine's arm was as good as a wall in supporting him as they reached the ambulance and the techs began opening up the back.

"It's... all good." came a thin, ragged voice from below them.

"G!" Nick cried in relief, and hunched over the other man. The tears he had been reigning in now began falling free.

"I told you... we'd make it."

Nick reached down to smooth some of the hair out of his eyes, and before he even had time to think about it, his natural reaction was to then lean in, pull the oxygen mask aside and gratefully kiss the man he loved.

It was a personal, yet easy and heartfelt moment of relief and love. Catherine, Sara and Warrick could only watch on as they realised they were witness to something deep and beautiful with a history behind it that they were only now privy to.

As Nick drew away, Greg smiled and pulled the mask back down so he could breathe again. Nick continued to stare down at him, and stroked his cheek. He only broke contact when the techs pulled the gurney up into the ambulance.

"Sir? Let's get you hooked up." The tech reached down and helped Nick into the vehicle.

Grissom had now caught up with them. "I think they're breaking out the champagne in the lab as we speak." he said lightly.

Sara turned to him, and raised an eyebrow. "I think they'll be doing it for more than one reason."

Grissom looked at her, not understanding. Warrick stifled a laugh, and looked up to where Nick was lying down on a guerney. His friend met his gaze apprehensively, but once again their looks communicated everything.

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before... are you cool?

Dude, chill.

Nick smiled tiredly, and Warrick gave him the thumbs-up. It certainly was a surprise, but when you looked back the evidence was there. In fact, Warrick felt kind of stupid for not having figured it out before.

As the fresh supply of oxygen started flowing, Nick lay back fully and realised that the calm he was feeling came not just from being rescued, but from giving both him and Greg what they had wanted all along – the ability to let their friends know about them and to stop the secrecy that had been weighing them down. The world was still spinning. It didn't mean that life would be permanently rosy from now on, but it would be nicer to be shared openly with the man across from him.

Nick turned his head and saw Greg staring at him. I love you he mouthed.

He couldn't be sure exactly what it was Greg replied, but it looked like Right back at you.

Greg looked to where their friends hung back, their expressions of concern and love. Yes, love. And he knew they were lucky to have them in their lives. He smiled down at them, and motioned to Grissom.

Grissom leaned over into the ambulance, and the others watched Greg remove his mask and whisper something. The older man gave a small smile and whispered something back.

Her interest piqued, Sara asked him what was said when he joined them again.

Grissom gave a small smile. "He said they were taking a week's leave to go to Disneyland."

Catherine laughed at the uniquely-Greg reaction. "I hope you agreed to it. Those guys deserve a vacation."

Grissom decided to keep to himself the second thing Greg had asked him. It was something that hadn't even needed to be asked – the acceptance of their relationship. It had been weirdly old-fashioned, as if Greg was asking a father permission for courting his child. But it had made Grissom happy to be asked, because it signified the bond between him and those who were his employees in name only.

Warrick poked his head back in as the techs were about to close the door. "We'll meet you at the hospital. Try not to get in any more trouble on the way."

He couldn't help but have a sinking feeling as the doors closed once more on his friend, remembering that it had only been a short while since they had last done this. He shook it off, reminding himself that Nick was still safe. It was a feeling of déjà vu with a fortunately happy ending.

The parallel was not lost on Nick either. The view from the back of the ambulance was almost exactly the same, except it was twilight this time around, not the darkness of night. But there they were again, standing in a row. His friends, watching him off after coming to his rescue. Except this time, the person who should have been in the ambulance with him after he was pulled out of the ground was by his side instead of watching him go. He was where he belonged. Nick closed his eyes as he felt the tech close up the equipment cart and then climb through to join the driver.

"Nick..." he heard Greg breathe.

He opened his eyes again, and saw Greg pulling himself up slightly. "Look..."

Nick glanced out the side window. The ambulance had slowed down to pass by a SUV with an attached horse-trailer which was parked by the side of the road. A small girl and her father were leading a black horse onto the ramp. It looked slightly ragged, as ragged as the two men in the back of the ambulance who had crossed paths with it twice the day before. The small girl had tear-streaked cheeks but was smiling as she was obviously whispering terms of endearment to the skittish animal, calming it so she could bring it back home.

"It survived." Greg smiled happily.

"And I don't think that's Grutte Gray-Beard holding the reins." Nick grinned.

Greg lay back. He felt Nick reach across and take his hand. He stroked the back of his partner's hand with his thumb, and felt peace wash through him. They had survived. Like the landscape that had been damaged around them, they would renew and come through it stronger than before.

"It wasn't such a bad day after all." he murmured.

-FINIS-

***