Previous part of Poisonous Fear.

***

#21

Sara Sidle walked into the lab and nodded at the receptionist. Her skin was tanned, stripes of blonde hair streaking her normally dark hair. There was a bounce to her step that wasn't usual. It was sad that it took going to a funeral to lighten up her mood.

Hodges bustled past her, not a word. She starred after him for a moment. It was rare that the man didn't have anything stupid to say to her. Sara shrugged her shoulders and continued on. She walked towards the DNA lab hoping to find one of her other CSI's. Someone had to have something to do.

Mia was bent over her microscope, oblivious to everything around her. She was trying to find connections with anything for their case. Anything could point the finger now and Mia wasn't about to over look anything.

A soft cough caught her off guard and Mia whipped around on her stool. She was shocked to see Sara standing there with a smile, "Welcome back."

"Thanks. Just got in. Wanted to stop in and see what was up, but can't seem to find anyone."

Sara watched the technician almost squirm under her stare. Something was up, "Where is everyone?'

"Umm, well…thing's got bad when you were gone."

"Meaning?"

Mia took a deep breath and used it all to run through her quick speech, "Nick, Warrick, and Grissom are missing, don't know where. Catherine is at the Church of Gods following a lead. Greg is with Brass at a scene."

It took only a moment, "What! They're missing!"

The CSI was about to take off on a tangent when a male voice behind her demanded her attention, "Sidle, my office. Now."

Sara faced Ecklie, but didn't have a chance to say anything as the man walked away from her. A hand rubbed at her upper thigh as she chewed on her inner cheek. This was not what she wanted to come home to. She was never going to leave again. A quick look and wave at Mia, Sara took off after the lab director hoping to learn what the hell was going on.

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These were not ideal scenes. Greg felt sick to his stomach. The woman had been raped, then butchered. Whoever were the ones to attack this woman, felt the need to torture her even in death. He watched as Brass walked around, barking orders at his officers.

"Ready to head back to the lab, Sanders?"

"Yeah, more than ready."

Brass grinned, "Looking a little green around the gills there. Not taking too kindly to the sight?"

"No, this is just not right. We are not only looking for murderers, we're looking for disgusting perverts. This is beyond cruel."

"You have been hanging out with Nicky too much."

Then mention of one of their missing coworkers brought them both up short. During the processing of the victim's body, it had been easy to forget the major ordeal in their lives. But now that they were done at the scene, the pressure slammed back down onto their shoulders.

Brass coughed and rubbed his hand nervously against the back of his neck, "Come on kid. Let's get back."

Neither said another word as they traveled at the speed limit back to the lab. Greg wanted to talk, say anything, but didn't know what he wanted to say. Over the years there had been stress when dealing with this job. People got hurt, things happened. Hell, he even got blown up once. It was something that came with the territory, but Greg would never get used to it. This concern was eating him alive.

Greg didn't even realize they had made it back to the lab. He had been so deep in his thoughts, most of them not pleasant. No matter how positive he tried to be, all he could see was Nick with his throat slashed, Warrick strangled, and Grissom underneath a pile of flesh eating bugs. It was beyond disturbing. He was just glad foreshadowing didn't run in his family.

The detective made no noise as he exited his car and waited for the young kid to do the same. For some reason he didn't want to go inside alone. Not that he would ever tell anyone. Jim had a reputation to live up to. If people suddenly found out he was afraid to go into the lab alone, it would be over. Trying to cover for his thoughts, he walked quickly, leaving Greg to catch up.

No one jumped at the two men with good or bad news once they entered the main hallway. It could be a good thing or a bad thing. Brass didn't care to figure that one out. Greg headed automatically for the break room. Brass watched him for a moment before forcing himself to follow.

Greg could only think of getting some caffeine in him to work through the rest of this. He wanted to hold off on this new dead body, but knew he would get shit if he did. Almost without looking, he walked past Ecklie's office. Something seemed odd about it today, but Greg didn't think about it. He could smell coffee, even cheap as it was. It smelled like heaven.

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Gr4issom didn't know what to do. There was no training for this type of situation. He was forced to watch Warrick try to rip himself out of the chair, in such a rage. And Nick, still as a board on the floor. He was loosing his guys.

He knew enough to know if they lost Nick now, they were all done for. Warrick would never be the same, would never be able to be a good CSI anymore. The man had a temper that was well known and this would shatter any hold he had on it.

Catherine would be devastated beyond words. She had often talked about those two being her boys, the sons she was forced to have even if she didn't ask for them, but never regretted. There were always those moments when Grissom could almost say she was their mother with some of her actions. He would lose that strong woman, that strong mother.

Sara and Greg would eventually move on. They were all friends, yes, but deep down, Grissom knew those two would be the strongest to move past this. Sara had her share of fights with the guys and it wasn't always clear that they were all on the same side, but Grissom knew they cared about each other. And Greg would lose his two buddies, his pals. The young man would bounce back, but not as high. Never as high.

As for himself, it was unclear what actions he would take if he were to lose them. He felt pains in his chest he had never experienced before. Not being a strong people person, he didn't really know what he would say or do to work through something like that. These two were his coworkers, his friends, and his kids. Over the past five years, they helped to define him to who he was.

A chocked off shout of rage from Warrick caught his attention. The other man was struggling to hold back his emotions. Grissom was sure all he wanted to do was scream to everything he held dear. Even the strong lose their way in times such as these.

"Warrick?"

The black man lifted his head as if it were too great an effort, "Yeah?"

"Hold on, okay? Don't let them win."

"And how do we do that? Nick is dying at our feet, I can feel that shit starting to work, and you are doomed to die too. We are fucked, through and through. No sugar or honey for this shit."

"I am not going to offer you any sweet words, Warrick. All I am asking is for you to hold it together for me. If it is a dead end as it may very well be, then you do whatever it is you must. But for now, hold it together."

Warrick locked his eyes onto the now shaking form of Nick. He knew that was what was going to happen to him. There were spots in his vision, his hearing was getting fuzzy, and his body was getting heavy. That frog toxin shit was working its magic now. It was only a matter of time before he was in that same hell Nick was locked in.

"I don't think I can do it."

"Do what?" Grissom asked softly. He wanted to keep his voice low and soothing. Anything to help keep the other man with him.

"I'm not strong enough to do this Gris. I can't do this."

"Look, you are going to be okay. We are going to get out of this. You heard what they said, there are cops here."

"So?"

Grissom let a small grin form, "They are bound to come across something. These guys aren't very organized. Tenner will not get away with this."

Warrick frowned and looked at his boss, "Find what?"

"He's short, scared, and wants away from all this."

"Miguel."

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Not even Grissom's desk was this unorganized. It was ridiculous that anyone could operate with sort of mess. Catherine brushed some hair from her face as she let out a breath of air. She had been over every sheet of paper, through every book she found in and on this desk. Nothing was a case breaker.

There was a file cabinet to the left side of the room, but it needed a key. She had no way to get inside. Catherine had never learned the art of picking locks. It was a dead end with that one.

Catherine placed her hands flat on the top of the desk and looked around the room. Her eyes slowly covered every inch of the walls, the bookshelves. She would give up a year's salary if anything would simply jump out at her. But the burn behind her eyelids wasn't helping either.

It was quiet outside the office and from her angle with the door open, there was no one in the large room any longer. Maybe they were frightened of the cops. Andrew had shown up at Sam's request and now was stationed at the entrance to the church as they scooped it out. She had always liked that young cop. Good guy, good cop.

She needed some air. Catherine walked around the desk, careful of her steps. Now that she was once again in the main room, she was certain no one else was up on this level with her. The door to the basement was in the same position it had been when her and Vega came back up. Curiosity got the best of her and Catherine walked back over to the door.

It was quiet. No voices come up, snaking over the stairs. It was an older building and there were plenty of things around to absorb the sound, but she didn't like this at all. Catherine looked up and saw Andrew watching her. She waved him over.

"I need you to watch this door. Let me know if someone comes out or goes in," she whispered to the younger man.

"Yes, Ma'am. Stepping out?"

"Just for a quick breather. Be back before you can miss me."

Andrew smiled at her as she walked away. He had always liked Catherine and had no problem working with her. Hell, she was hot. He had no issue with liking an older woman.

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This was upsetting. He was so close and this interruption was not going to help any. Those three men now had time to draw together and get their thoughts back in control. Tenner would have to get that blonde bitch as soon as he could. She was next.

He told the other four men to stay in the larger room, wanting to check on the CSI's behind the hidden door. Tenner winced as the door scrapped against the other stones as it opened. For a moment, he held his breath and listened hard for anyone running down the stairs. Nothing.

A shocked gasp left his lips as he took in the new room, "How did he get free?"

Grissom watched the other man rush into the room and crouch quickly by Nick's side. Wrinkled fingers felt along the Texan's throat, stopping and holding position for a few seconds. He could tell by Tenner's posture, Nick was still alive. The breath he didn't realize he had been holding rushed from his lungs.

It seemed that Warrick had noticed the same thing, but he still didn't want that man touching his partner anymore, "Get away from him."

"You didn't answer my question. How is he free?"

"You can fuck with him all you want, but Nick is stronger than you will ever be. He fought through everything you did to him and he is going to survive!"

Tenner smiled cruelly, "You aren't free yet. He is passed out, dying here right now. You can talk all you want Mr. Brown, but it doesn't work with me. You are scared and covering it by tough words, tough act."

Warrick growled, "You know nothing about us!"

"It doesn't take much to learn a person. You watch their behavior, the way the carry themselves. Everyone has a certain way to live their life. All you have to do is watch and observe for a short amount of time. I know enough about all of you, the files helped."

"Observation is only a small part of learning people," Grissom interjected.

"And you would know? From my reading, no one seems to think much of your people skills, your people abilities. There is nothing you can say to me to make me fear you."

"But the thing is, you already do. You fear all of us. By hurting us, lowering us below you, you prove you are afraid."

Tenner clenched his fist and stomped to stand directly in front of Grissom. The CSI had a small quirk on the right side of his mouth, eyes inquiring. He was asking for an answer to his outrageous allegations. Tenner would make sure he got them.

The fist came hard and fast. It was almost scary to know such power could come from someone like Tenner. Grissom didn't think the other man had it in him to do it. But the throbbing in his cheek was enough to prove it. The other fist hit with just as much power.

"Hey!" Warrick shouted.

Four hits later, Tenner stopped himself. His hands throbbed from this new action. Tenner had never struck another human in his entire life. With this pain in the joints, it was a mystery why so many men resorted to this action of violence. But, taking a few more deep breaths, looking up at Grissom's split lit and red cheeks, it made it almost worth it.

"You are not in charge here. Nothing is yours in this room. Not even those two men. They belong to me here. You need to accept that."

"You don't own us man! Nick and me are not your property."

"I have to disagree Warrick. I can see by your eyes that you have belonged to me for a short time now."

Warrick was brought up short. He had been trying to hide the affects of the toxin, but didn't think to worry about his eyes. Now Grissom was looking at him, studying him. From the expression of his boss, he didn't look good.

"How are you doing, Warrick?" Grissom ignored the crazy man in the room.

Only a shake of the head was his answer.

"Playing it tough. Figures. You always were the one to stand out with such a trait," Tenner sneered as he walked over to Nick, "He isn't dying quickly enough. Can't let him walk away from this. My gods need him. He will be perfect in this battle."

A shoed foot shoved at the down man. Nothing happened. Warrick watched for anything, Nick's breathing didn't even change. He wanted to scream out his frustration at everything. Then get out of this damn chair and kick some ass.

"Enough of this. Even if they find you down here, Nick will no longer draw breath." Tenner muttered almost to himself.

The black bag was still in the room and it was Tenner's destination now. Grissom watched his every move and didn't like how this was going. He knew Tenner was desperate now and wouldn't hold back. It would be nice to see what the man was digging for in that bag.

Tenner had always like the weight of stainless steel in his hands. The six inch dagger sat nicely in his palm. His father had given him this on his twelfth birthday. It was from World War One, a German blade. Much blood had been spilt by this knife.

He stood tall and showed the weapon off with pride to the wide eyes of the two CSI's. Their shouts of denial and anger were nothing to him anymore. Only the man laying flat on the floor was of interest. Tenner could almost fell the warm glow of his gods shining down on him.

"Have you ever heard that old Chinese proverb about danger and knives?" Tenner looked directly at Grissom for this one.

"Fuck that! Put the damn thing away!" Warrick didn't want to waste time of stupid things like proverbs when there was the prospect Nick would be dead within a minute.

Grissom actually glared at Warrick, "Quiet."

"Ah, I think that must be a first for you. Your golden boy. Your perfect CSI. If I hadn't read the files and learned about you three, this wouldn't be a shock for me. But now, shouldn't it be Nick you are yelling at? Isn't it almost always him screwing up?"

"You know nothing. We are not simply words on paper. There is more than you could ever deal with. Nick is stronger than you ever will be. Warrick is braver than you could dream about."

Tenner wasn't impressed, "A mountain of knives and a sea of fire. It has been said that the only thing a knife truly hungers for is blood, and it takes much to sate it. He comes with incense in one hand, in the other a spear."

The elderly man stopped for a dramatic effect, though it was lost to Grissom and Warrick. They could care less for theatrics at that moment. All Warrick knew was Tenner was slowly walking over towards his partner.

"That is what they are made for. To hurt, to kill. Tell me something I don't know."

"But you see Mr. Brown. Knives have many aspects in the world besides mindless killing. But I am afraid none of those reasons will play in here. My gods are growing impatient and your cop friends are snooping in areas best left alone. It is time to end this. Nick dies now. Honey in his mouth, knives in his heart."

Warrick threw his body forward at the man as he moved to kneel by Nick's prone body. It caused the chair to tip forward, throwing the tall CSI He grunted as his upper body knocked into Tenner, tipping the crazy man down. His knees slammed hard into the cement, the seat of the chair bruising his flesh. But the knife was away from Nick.

"You fool!" Tenner scrambled to his knees, kicking at Warrick. The black man was still tied to the chair, but he was now leaning forward on the ground. His dagger had been knocked from his hand at the hit. Tenner looked for it and saw it about three feet to his right.

Grissom watched as Tenner pawed at the knife while Warrick tried to move pinned between floor and cement. It was a losing battle for his CSI. Tenner soon had his hand wrapped around the handle and pulled the steel towards his body.

"Warrick!"

The blade swung out, directly towards his face. Warrick threw his weight to the side, the chair going with. All the air was knocked from his chest at the awkward fall. But the knife didn't reach his flesh at all.

"That was very stupid of you Mr. Brown. Once I finish with Nick, you will see no more light."

Lying on his side, Warrick was now helpless once again, "No! Don't!"

"No more words to save any of you."

Tenner crawled over to Nick and leaned forward. His lips rested about an inch from the Texan's ear as he reached out his free hand to touch the clammy skin. It would be at least another thirty minutes for the toxin to finish the job. He knew he didn't have the kind of time anymore.

Light reflected off the blade as he raised it, looking towards the ceiling, "Deimos, Phobos. Great gods of Fear and Panic. I offer you this sacrifice and hope it pleases you. He dies in fear. He dies in pain."

Time stood still as the blade cut through the air. It was almost beautiful. Warrick opened his mouth, but sound was caught in his throat. A shout sounded from Grissom, but it was not enough. A rip, slurp, and thud filled the room now.

A laugh sounded from Tenner as he removed his hand from the hilt, blade buried completely in Nick's lower back. It quivered a little from the action. Nick never moved. Warrick roared out in denial.

***

#22

Detective Vartann never liked to be left in the dark. He had been busy with the day shift so he only just learned about the mess the grave yard shift had gotten themselves into. A growl left his throat as he stalked the lab's hallways looking for Brass or Vega. Neither of his fellow officers was answering his phone and it was getting plainly annoying.

It hadn't been easy, but he managed to avoid Ecklie. Never had liked that man. But there was no way to avoid Sara as she tore across the tiles looking ready to burn him to ash. He didn't even know she was back from her little vacation.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, "You should be with Brass trying to arrest someone."

Vartann held up his hands, palms forward, "And where would you like me to go? I know probably about as much as you seem to Ms. Sidle."

"Oh, don't give me that crap."

She was mad and it was clear as glass. Even a blind, deaf person would be able to tell something was up with this brown haired woman in front of him. He didn't want to remain the man front of her with this situation in place. There was still that promotion he wanted.

"You can call one of them. See where they are, can't you!"

"Sure, I could do that. But only if you calm down," Vartann reached for his phone and hit the speed dial for Brass' phone.

Sara watched him like a hawk as he waited for his call to be picked up. It only took three rings, but it seemed all eternity. The captain was short with him and didn't sound pleased. But he did get the location of Sam and Catherine out of him. He smiled.

"Come on. We have some driving to do."

"Where are we going?" Sara jogged to keep up with his wider gait, "What do you know?"

Vartann turned a raised eyebrow and a grin to her, "Have you confessed recently?"

"What?"

Nothing, but a smirk. Sara scowled after the cop as he walked out of the lab. There were days where she really hated her friends in uniform. Especially cocky detectives and captains.

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Something was odd about this building. It seemed as if it should be much larger than it was. Vega scratched behind his ear as he thought about this. He would love to have the prints for this place in his hands at that very moment. It would make things so much easier.

He had circled the dungy bricks at least five times now and nothing was standing out. Kehls had nodded at him at every pass. The younger man probably though he had lost it or was simply looking for some good old exercise. Vega shook his head and smiled.

His phone had been oddly quiet. A call from Brass had been expected, but there wasn't one. The 419 didn't sound that complicated and it shouldn't have taken them that long at the scene. It was connected to this mess they were all in.

Sam was about to lap the front door again when his attention was dragged right from his thoughts. Catherine was standing at the top of the stairs now, apparently looking for him. Her eyes lit up when she took in his form and she almost skipped over to stand next to him.

"Find anything?'

He shrugged, "Something is odd about this place. Can't put my finger on it."

"Yeah, I have similar suspicions, but haven't found anything in the office yet. Everyone has left the main room. Needed to take a break and get my head cleared out."

He left that one alone. Sam had worked with the fiery CSI enough times to know when to leave things well enough alone. Her bark was impressive, but the bite was just plain scary.

Catherine took a deep breath, stretching out her spine, "I suppose. Can't have it get to Grissom that I was busy looking at the scenery and not the evidence."

Her steps weren't quite as bouncy on her return into the building, but Sam wouldn't fault her for that. A quick glance skyward, a deep breath. He started another circle, eyes open for anything. It was a car speeding up to him that stopped him this time.

Sara almost threw herself at him once she was free from the confines of the car, "Where are they?"

"I don't know. Catherine's inside, the office. We're working on it."

A curt nod was all he got as she ran into the church. Vartann stopped next to him and looked up at the building. He knew his fellow detective knew nothing major about this case and probably was ready to learn about it.

"Come on. I'll fill you in on the way."

"Way?"

Sam grinned, "Yeah. We're making laps."

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There were a lot of empty wooden benches in the large room, but Sara didn't bother with them. She saw the open door and the light on inside. Vega had said Catherine was in the office and that had to be it. Sure enough, the older woman was inside sitting at the desk.

"Where are they?"

Catherine looked up, "Sara? When did you get back?"

"Cut the crap. What's going on?"

"I'm sure you heard about the guys. Sam and I think they are being kept by someone from the church, if not Tenner himself."

"Yeah, Vartann knew a little, but not enough to satisfy me. What can I help with?"

"Just look for anything that looks out of the ordinary. I haven't seen anything, but maybe you will."

Sara shook her head, "Not that I really know what to look for."

The younger woman started to walk around the room, running her hand over the walls as she went. It was an odd office for someone who ran a church. She knew little about this place, but had heard something about a cult being run out of it. If the guys were caught up in something like that, it couldn't be good.

Her fingers jumped off the dry wall. Sara stopped and looked right to the left of her fingers. There was a line running through the wall. Looking up and down, it formed almost the frame of a door. A frown covered her face as she ran her fingers along it some more.

Underneath a poster, there was a handle. Sara glanced at Catherine before she grabbed it and pulled. It opened with a groan and a rush of damp air. Chirps and creaks filled the room. She could sense Catherine walk up besides her as they both looked into the tiny closet. There were plenty of colors from the various frogs inside the little glass cages.

"What's this?"

But Catherine was already fumbling to get her phone. Sara blocked out the conversation she was having with someone as she stepped forward into the small paradise. The creatures were beautiful. Her hand reached out and pressed against the cool glass. The red frog jumped away from her.

"Sara, we need to get out of here now."

Sara turned to the blonde woman, "Why?"

"Because we have our proof of Mr. Tenner's involvement right in this room. He uses the toxin from these frogs to paralyze the victims as they kill them."

"And he has the guys!"

"Yeah. This is why we have to move."

Catherine walked quickly from the room, not waiting to make sure Sara was following her. The sunlight was bright in her eyes as she walked from the church one more time. Neither of the officers were on the sidewalk anymore. She heard Andrew say hi to Sara behind her. They were the only ones in this area.

She pursed her lips as she walked down the stairs and turned left. Catherine knew Sam had been circling the building, watching for anything. It was best to see if she could meet up with them on the way. Maybe they would have found something by now. After all, it was help from Sara that the frogs were found.

The two women's shoes clicked and clanked as they walked on the uneven ground surrounding the church. Its lawn left much to the imagination. There was mostly only dirt and weeds. But they both made good time as they walked swiftly to the back of the building. They stopped dead when they saw the scene in front of them.

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Jacob Tenner stood tall over his fallen pray. The blood was rapidly surrounding the area around the dagger handle. It almost looked romantic sticking out from Nick's back. But there was no time to quote poetry over this now. Later he would.

He listened to the sobs that ripped from Warrick even as he tried to call his friend back from the dead. The man was shaken, slowly giving into his fate. Tenner wasn't going to kill Warrick as he had planned. He had to leave this place and soon. The toxin would do it for him and leave Grissom alone with two dead CSI's.

Looking over at the lead CSI, Tenner's smile grew. Grissom looked completely shell shocked. He was quiet, mouth open only to help him breathe. Tears had welled up on his lashes, but none had fallen down his pale cheeks yet. But it was clear the pain Warrick was sharing was slowly killing him as well.

"I am afraid your friends have made us cut this short. Maybe if they leave and don't come back by tomorrow, I will come back and check on you Grissom."

This got him a look from the other man, "Yes, only you. By then, Warrick will be long gone. Submitted to the poison running through his heart. Then you and I can have another conversation and you can describe to me how it felt to remain in this room with these two dead at your feet. Maybe you will then understand my gods."

Silence was his only answer. He didn't waste anymore time with more words as he walked towards the doorway leading into the room with his other men. They had to leave together and not let the cops know something else was going on down below. Tenner checked his hands and found them clear of blood.

"Sleep tight and don't fight," he pulled the door shut behind him, leaving the CSI's alone within the room.

Grissom shook himself from his trance and looked down at Warrick who was still down on the ground from his previous fall. The tall man was lost in his grief now and had stopped calling to Nick. His air was solely for his cries now.

Nick remained still on the floor, blood slowly trickling to the ground. A red puddle was spreading from the man. Grissom couldn't see his chest rise or fall. A chocked noise escaped him. It hurt. People had died around him before and death was a constant companion. But this was different. This was one of his guys. Dead. Bleeding.

"Warrick?"

He was ignored, but Grissom expected nothing less. Warrick was lost to him at that moment. Whatever grasp his CSI had was gone. Grissom knew there was little chance he would get him back if things kept going in this direction. Death was knocking on that door as well.

The ropes chaffed and ripped at his skin as he fought with them yet again. It was pointless, but it gave his mind something else to focus on. Not the blood, or the tears. But it caused Grissom to do something most people had rarely heard for the second time that day. He screamed out in frustration and anger.

Warrick gasped at the echoes that bounced back at him from the sudden sound. He chocked on a sob and forced his head to crane upward to seek out Grissom. His boss had his head thrown back, eyes tightly shut. It shook him more than it should have.

"Gris?"

The soft call of his name made Grissom shot his head downward, cracking his neck in the process, "Warrick! I need you pull yourself together."

It sounded cold and he knew it. But Grissom was at a loss with words for this. Fighting down his own pain, he focused completely on Warrick. The other man was watching him.

"I need you to calm down. You can do nothing in that state."

"It doesn't matter. Those fuckers took Nick away! I'm as good as dead. It's pointless!" He yelled through his tears.

Anger and rage was something Warrick could deal with. This sudden depression and pain was new to him. It scared him. He didn't know what to do to "calm" himself down as Grissom put it so kindly. So he yelled.

"You can't get us out of this!"

Grissom nodded and collected himself as best he could, "I may not be able to. But don't forget about one thing. There are cops upstairs and Catherine might be with them. She will find us."

The mention of Catherine's name seemed to work. Warrick gasped for another breath and fought down the new round of pain. It was possible they knew they were here and trying to get to them right now. He turned to look at Nick again. There might be hope.

"I'm sorry," it was completely breathless, but Grissom caught it anyways.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. You needed to do that."

"Do you think Nick will make it?"

Grissom bit his lip and looked at the puddle turning into a pool of blood under the Texan, "I don't know."

It was honest and quiet. Warrick could ask for nothing more. From his angle, Nick was as good as dead. He could see the blood. The tears hadn't blinded him. Another sob threatened to break lose, but he swallowed it. Along with the burning pain building in his stomach. The poison was back to play. His eyes fell shut.

Both men kept themselves locked in their own thoughts. It hurt more than Warrick would have ever thought. He loved Nick as a brother. Never had he through they would be separated in such a way. If they were to die because of the job, it was supposed to be together. Side by side. Not like this, never like this.

The creak of the door forced them both to hold their breath. Tenner had said he would be back. It was possible he turned the cops away and was able to stay. Grissom closed his eyes in defeat. With Tenner back, they had no hope. He would die here as well.

Footsteps sounded in the room, but Grissom didn't care. The breathing was soft, the gait smooth. Tenner was taking in the sights. Grissom fought from flinching as a hand rested against the flesh of his cheek. Now his eyes clenched shut. For once, he lost his mask and let all his emotions show on his face.

It was over.

***

#23

The doors to the conversation van were open, sunlight streaming in. Detective Vartann held his gun steady at the man sitting in the back seat. The jelly from his doughnut was dripping on his jeans. Vartann would have laughed if not for the scared boy tied up at his feet.

Sam Vega cooed to the boy and tried to get him to stop moving in order to attack the ropes binding his small limbs together. Sweat ran down his arms, tears on his face. There was a large brown smug on the boy's cheek. Vega knew this boy. His blood had been left at his house.

"Miguel Johnson?"

It was enough to catch the boy's attention. He tried to mumble around the dirty cloth digging into the sides of his mouth. Sam reached out and laid a heavy hand on Miguel's lower leg. It shook within his grasp. He squeezed enough to prove to Miguel he wasn't going to hurt him.

"It's okay. We're here to help you. I'm Sam Vega. I was at your house. Do you remember me?"

Miguel nodded his head, eyes still wide. He cringed as the new man entered the van, gun out. It was clear he was another cop and was here to help him. The gun was pointed at the bad man so it couldn't be all that bad. But they could get this bad tasting gag out of his mouth.

Vartann grabbed the guy's arm and pulled him forward, "Move. You're under arrest and I have a lot of questions for you. Watch the boy!"

The cop forced the man over his body. Miguel whimpered. He didn't want them anywhere near them anymore. They were bad men and hurt him. Plus his friend, Nick. When the group had left earlier, they were joking and said Nick was dead. It had made Miguel cry even harder.

Vega watched as Vartann forced the man from the van to kneel in the dirt. Cuffs were swiftly secured around the scrawny wrists. He listened to the other detective bark off the rights and what was about to happen. It was hard not to jump in and help.

Hearing another muffled gasp, Vega turned his attention back to Miguel. Keeping his hands completely in the boy's line of vision, he moved into the van. He reached towards the cloth, his fingers gripping it carefully. It slid free from the white teeth and immediately, Miguel started speaking.

"Help me! They're bad men! Where's my mom? They killed Nick! Help me! Take me to my mommy!"

It was quick and full of gasps of air, but Sam was able to catch a familiar name, "Nick! Where's Nick?"

Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head. Everything was rushing hard into his head and it was hurting. His mom would make it all better. She always did. He wanted his mommy.

"Where's my mommy?"

"Miguel. I need you to answer me. Where's Nick?"

Lips trembled, tears ran down the old tracks once again. Vartann watched from the side lines, holding his breath. This boy knew where Nick was. He may know where Warrick and Grissom were as well. They may all be together. It was hard not to yell for the boy to answer the damn question. But Vartann knew better than to scare the kid.

"He's…"

Clapping shoes on the hard ground caught his attention and he stopped speaking. Miguel turned in fear to look at the new arrivals. New people were not good things anymore. They hurt him and his mom when they came to his house. These two women didn't look scary, though.

Catherine almost fell on loose gravel as she stopped to take in the scene before her. A man on his knees, hands behind his back. The small boy with tears almost drowning his face. And Vartann and Sam looking at them in surprise.

"What!" Sara breathed from her position at Catherine's left.

Both women suddenly jumped forward and walked quickly to stand besides Vartann. The man in cuffs didn't look up at them, but he did shift uncomfortably. It was the boy that caught Catherine's attention. He looked terrified.

"Catherine, this is Miguel Johnson."

"Oh Miguel," Catherine said sadly as she moved forward to help Sam remove the rest of his bindings.

"Where's my mommy?"

"It's okay. Your mommy isn't here," Catherine slipped into mother mode as she swept the dark hair from the dirty face, "But you are safe now."

Vega coughed to gain attention, "He knows where Nick is."

Sara gasped and moved forward. The boy looked scared at her sudden movement, but she only slowed the down a little. The tension of everything since she had gotten back was rising and overpowering her. She wanted answers.

"Where?"

Miguel shifted under the dark haired woman's stare, "They're in the basement."

All four were stunned. There was only that one room and Catherine had looked into in herself. It was only the one space. Her boys were not down there. Only Tenner and his so-called followers.

"They're not down there sweetie. I was down in the basement and only Mr. Tenner was there."

Miguel winced at the man's name. He would never be able to hear it without being afraid anymore. The man had been nice to him at church, even gave him candy. Now he had hurt him and killed his friend Nick. He would never go to church again.

"No, they are there. He killed Nick! Down those stairs."

Vartann turned to look back at the building. There was a back entrance, but now the detective noticed old cellar doors hidden by overgrown bushes. They weren't locked. He walked over and tested the handle. One of the doors swung out. The hinges were oiled and well kept.

Vega moved over to stand by the other cop as they both looked down into the depths. There were old stairs covered in dust and mold. But there were plenty of footprints leading down. Oddly, there were also a few paw prints as well. Vartann looked over at him and nodded his head.

"I'll wait up here with the perp. Sara, can you start to process the van?" Vega pulled out his radio and hit the button, "Kehls, I need you in the back on the building. Now."

The younger woman bristled at the suggestion, but a glance at Catherine told her she was staying up here. Sara reached out her hand towards Miguel. He hesitated, but took it within his sweaty grasp. Once Sam walked back over towards him, he felt even better.

Catherine walked over to Vartann's side and pulled out her flashlight. The two started down the stairs, the gun leading the way. It was quiet. No one was down in this hallway, but they kept walking. The walls were close and they had to walk in a single line.

The light beam swept from side to side along the dusty cement, but there was no sign of blood. But someone had been through here recently. Lots of someones. Catherine pulled at the collar of her shirt as the air got thicker. The smell was beginning to bother her senses.

Vartann stopped before an old stone door. He frowned as he looked around it for something to grab onto. There was no knob or handle on this side. His fingers followed the grove. Catherine moved closer to him, but he ignored her. There was a gap he could work his fingers in.

"I need you to step back."

Once she as for enough out of the way, Vartann planted a foot on the wall and pulled. His fingers strained with the pull, but the door was moving. It was hard and he grunted. Sweat beaded up on his lower lip. After what seemed like an eternity, it was open. Musty air rushed them and neither missed the overtone of blood.

Catherine was ahead of him before he had anytime to process it. Her heart stopped as she adjusted to what she was seeing. If this kept up, she was going to pass out. The gasp from Vartann behind her forced her body into motion and she walked forward slowly.

Nick was lying face down on the floor, blood seeping out from under his body. It was unclear if he was still breathing. Catherine couldn't bring herself to check. She forced her eyes on Warrick. The man was on his side, still tied to a chair. His eyes were glossy and his breathing harsh. Something was wrong with the man.

Grissom was the one she physically went to first. Looking back on this, she knew she would kick herself for not checking the other two, but somehow, Grissom demanded her attention first. His closed eyes and defeated look was so unusual to see. Her hand was shaky as she reached forward and placed it against his slightly damp cheek.

He cringed back a little, head dropped some more, "Gil?"

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

The soft voice broke through his haze. It wasn't the voice of Tenner. He knew this voice. Grissom forced his eyes opened and looked up into the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Catherine looked scared for him, but all he could feel was complete joy at that moment. It, of course, came crashing down.

He heard shuffling and looked downward to see Vartann reach out towards Nick. The blood was further than he remembered. Grissom kept his eyes locked in the cop's hands as he turned Nick over enough to get a clean line towards the down Texan's throat. The removal of his bonds was barely noticed. Grissom didn't move from his chair.

"Catherine? How?"

"Shh, don't worry about it. We have you now. Sara and Sam are up waiting for us. You're safe now."

"Nicky!"

Vartann raised his head, leaving his hand on the still man, "He lives. But he needs medical help…yesterday."

Warrick shifted at the voices, but couldn't get his vocal cords to work correctly. Words were beyond his grasp. Only grunts and moans were what he could give to his friends. It was enough to get Vartann to walk over to him and press a warm hand on his heated cheek.

"Hey, it's okay man. Just hold on. Can you say anything?"

He shook his head. His body was warm and the world was starting to get fuzzy. The toxin was taking over and Warrick knew it. Vartann needed to move now. Or he was dead. Nick already was.

"Warrick! Look at me! Stay with us. Nick is still here and we need you to remain as well."

The words wafted over his head, but Grissom caught them, "He's poisoned. Get an ambulance. Now!"

The detective nodded and ran from the room. Catherine looked around, but didn't see another way into the room. There was a frog tank, a black bag, and various cloths in the room. Other people had been here, but no one had left that she had seen.

"Gil, where's Tenner?"

"He got away. He left. Through that door."

Catherine turned to look, but couldn't tell which door. To be honest, she didn't care. Tenner had gotten away, right under their noses. There would be hell to pay, but not now.

It was hard to see her boss brought down this far. Grissom was supposed to be their rock. The hard place when things got rough. Now he had lost his faith. Pain was evident on his face. And he still hadn't made any sort of move to leave his chair. Catherine found it hard to take.

"Check on Nicky," Grissom almost begged.

The blonde CSI forced herself away from the older man and turned towards Nick. The hilt of the dagger was still evident even in the slight angle Vartann had given his body. His face was more visible and Catherine didn't like what she could see. His skin was white, almost transparent. Her hand rested gently on his cheek. It was cool, yet sweaty. She could now feel the slight tremors racking his entire being.

"Oh Nick. Please don't give up on us," Catherine leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Keep fighting. Show 'em what you're made of."

There was no movement. Not that she expected anything. Catherine turned her face away from Nick's head to face Warrick. His glassy eyes were drilling into her and she moved over to him. She made short work of the ropes and he thudded to the ground from his odd position in that chair.

"Warrick? How're you feeling?"

His tongue was heavy, his lips slack, "Hurts. Nick?"

Her hands brushed through his short dreaded hair in a soothing manner. Warrick didn't want it. She should be by Nick, keeping him with them. His partner was bleeding out. The drug hadn't taken over his thoughts yet and all he could see was that knife plunging downward, over and over. He wanted to scream his anger, but it wasn't being allowed.

The world was getting grayer by the minute, but he didn't know how to tell Catherine this. Words were being mumbled into his ear, but he couldn't get enough energy to push away. At some point, Detective Vartann had returned. All Warrick could make out from him was that the ambulances were on the way. Doctors would be ready for them when they arrived.

He didn't like the idea of more than one ambulance. Warrick didn't want to let Nick out of his sight. His vision was down to a simple tunnel and the end, Nick. His brother hadn't moved and the look on Vartann's face did nothing, but scare him more.

Grissom also saw the worry and fear coloring the cop's face. Any questions he had were kept to himself for he didn't want anything else to bear down on Warrick. The man was fading almost too quickly now. It was clear to the supervising CSI that Warrick was about to lose his senses soon.

The older man's breath caught in his throat. Pain that he couldn't figure out was clenching at his heart. His boys were both lying at the floor at his feet. That thought was finally enough to force him into action. Falling hard to his knees, he crawled over to kneel by Nick.

The blood was warm, but rapidly cooling against the cloth of his pants. His hands hovered over Nick's back for a moment before he carefully placed one on Nick's upper back. There was a slight movement up and down, but not enough to completely satisfy the man.

"Oh god Nicky, Warrick, please forgive me."

His head fell forward enough so his forehead was resting against the back of Nick's head. Nothing could hold in his pain anymore. Soft sobs escaped him and he let it fall hard. He could hear the others, but didn't let them interrupt him. He needed this as much as Nick did.

Catherine watched her boss, her friend fall apart while leaning over one of her boys. It was hard to take and the tears streaked down her face. Her hands remained buried in Warrick's hair. Touching at least one of them was helping to ground her to the present. A gasping whimper left her lips and she removed her gaze from Grissom and Nick.

"Warrick!"

It was shrieked and enough to draw Grissom up. He watched the blonde CSI scramble to take Warrick's pulse. The man's eyes were shut, his body completely sagging. The frantic movements proved that Warrick had lost his battle. Both their lives were now completely in the void. Grissom shook his head in denial, ignoring the hot tears still streaming down his face.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

Sara held her breath as she waited for the paramedics to exit the cellar. Vega had held her back when she tried to follow them. No one had told her anything about what was happening. It was driving her insane. She wanted to pull out her long, dark locks.

Quick glances at her watch told her the minutes that passed. They had gone down into that pit only seven minutes ago. Her heels started to rise and fall from the ground with each breath she took. It looked pathetic, but Sara didn't care. She would yell at Andrew later for any jokes he may make.

Miguel looked up at her with large eyes. The boy had refused to be taken away until he saw what happened to his friends in the basement. He tried to ignore the woman next to him. She was making him more and more nervous. Now she was literally bouncing on her feet. It made him want to do the same.

Just when Sara was about to burst her way down into that dark hole, someone yelled something up. Another one of the paramedics that was waiting by the bus jumped into action. The gurney wheels squeaked as the man in the white uniform rolled it over towards the stairway. Officer Kehls moved to assist when the gurney got caught up on a rock.

It was Warrick they brought out first. Catherine was at his side, holding his hand tightly. The brace board rested easily on the gurney. Sara moved closer as they strapped him down. Those green eyes were hidden behind dark eyelids. The raw power of Warrick was gone. This was nothing more than a little boy strapped down. One would never know he towered over most people from this view.

"Where's Nick?"

Catherine turned her head at the soft question for Sara. Both women noticed the groan and movement of Warrick's head at the mention of the other CSI's name. Catherine took a deep breath to fight back the new round of tears threatening to fall.

"There were some…complications. He's coming up next. Grissom's with him."

"Is he dead?" Sara moved close to the other woman and kept her voice low.

"No. But they need to get him to the hospital. Warrick too."

"What happened to him?"

"Poisoned. Same toxin used on everyone else. It was called ahead and Palms said they could deal with it. Should be okay if they get him stabilized soon."

Sara nodded her head. At some point Miguel had moved closer to them. She opened her hand on reflex when she felt him grab at her fingers. His fingers were tiny in her hand, but she needed the comfort in the action almost more than the small boy did.

They all watched as Warrick was wheeled into the ambulance. Catherine gave a shaky smile to Sara as she moved to follow. "I'll see you at the hospital. Call Greg and fill him in."

Any reply was cut off by the arrival of a pale Grissom, "Is Catherine with Warrick?"

"Yeah."

Grissom nodded, but didn't say anything else. His eyes turned away from the slowly disappearing ambulance to look at the slow arrival of Nick on his yellow board. The Texan was lying on his stomach, hands resting at his sides. Sara gasped at the sight of the knife still in his back.

A new gurney appeared and the man was lowered carefully. The paramedics were discussing procedures and protocols as they got ready to move the man into the bus. Grissom patted Sara on the arm before he moved to go to the hospital with his CSI.

"His heart is dangerously slow. Still bleeding from the wound. Palms says to leave it in to minimize it. They will remove it there."

"Oxygen level is too low. Have to up the flow."

"Get a new bag. He's already drained this one."

"Paddles are ready. Should be at Palms in ten."

The paramedics didn't try to hide any of their conversation. In fact, Grissom was positive they didn't even realize he was present. He kept a tight grip on Nick's right calf as they were jostled on the way to the hospital. The solid beep didn't register to his brain until the panic erupted in front of him.

"He's flat-lining! We need to move faster!"

"Starting resuscitation procedures!"

Grissom could do nothing, but stare. They cut away the cloth of Nick's shirt as they shifted the dying man onto his side. A mask was placed over his face. It was the only thing moving the man's chest.

***

#24

These were the times that Susan Mercer hated the most about being a doctor. Hope was something she could only offer in so many dosages a day. Their eyes were begging for a miracle. She took a deep breath and looked down at the chart she held in her left hand.

"I have only Gil Grissom down for their emergency contact besides each other. But since he has been admitted as well, he asked to have you all informed. Said it would save time."

Catherine gave a tiny smile, "He would say something like that."

"Well, I'll begin with Warrick Brown. We managed to get the poisoning under control and are working it slowly out of his system. He is currently stable, but we will keep him for a few days to make sure there is no relapse. I had to clean up his hands and a few stitches were needed in his knuckles. All in all, he should make a complete recovery and be able to return to work in a couple weeks."

Greg looked up from his chair. His knees gave out on him as soon as he walked in the entrance doors to the hospital. He had been with Brass when they were found and rescued. From what he heard from Sara, he had been expecting the worst. So far, things were good.

"What about Nick?" Jim's voice was gruff as he softly asked the doctor from his position over by the other two detectives.

"It was complicated. I will be monitoring him for at least a week. The poisoning, the allergic reaction made his body very weak. Once he started bleeding out, it was risky. We needed to do an emergency transfusion and have him heavily medicated. There is a risk at mixing in a pain medication with everything else he needs right now, so I made the decision to keep him off that right now. The allergy medicine will keep him knocked out for awhile longer anyways. Once he is off that, then we can take care of the pain.

And I had to reset his arm and I gave him a nice white cast. He will recover, but it will be slow and hard on him. And from what I know of Nicholas Stokes, he will push it. He hates those hospital pants."

This got the desired chuckle from the tense group, "I have them both transferred from the emergency unit. It took some string pulling, but I managed to get them in the same room. Figured it would be easier than having to chase them around."

"Can we see them?"

Dr. Mercer looked at the spiky haired man. She couldn't help, but to smile at him. He looked lost and she knew the men under her care were important to him. This was Greg from the night Nick had broken his arm. Yes, this man needed to see his friends.

"I was asked by Dr. Grissom to allow him to see them first. But I have no problem with you staying for a short visit, but in small groups. I will send for you as soon as I am given permission from your boss."

Catherine watched the doctor walk away with a wink. She liked that woman. Her body collapsed into the plastic chair next to Greg. The younger man didn't hesitate to take her hand that she placed in his. The other one was already within Sara's grasp on the other side.

"What do you think Grissom is going to say to them?"

"I don't know," Catherine shrugged at Greg's quiet question, "But I'm sure they all need to hear it."

The three CSI's remained silent as they thought over their own thoughts. From time to time their attention was dragged to the make-shift poker game the three cops had decided they needed to get going. It was nice to hear Brass' grumble, Vega's triumphant cry, or Vartann's huff from time to time. Kept them all down to earth and in the present. Greg's curiosity got the best of him and he moved to join in.

Sara shifted into Greg's now vacated seat and let her upper arm rest on that of Catherine's. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough for both women. They weren't the greatest of friends, nothing like Nick or Warrick. But there was friendship and love between the two of them. They were a family, no matter how dysfunctional.

"We should make those guys wear bells on every case from now on."

"What?" Sara shifted towards Catherine, trying to hold back the grin on her face.

Catherine merely shrugged, "It would keep them within hearing distance. They get to far away, we shock them or something."

"I don't think that is considered humane."

"Yeah well, if it keeps them out of trouble for at least a week, I am sure we can get past those thoughts. Pretty sure the sheriff would give us the budget for it. It's not like I want to attach the shockers to vital parts. Only…like their ears."

Both women started to laugh. All four men glanced in their direction. Greg and Vega were the only two to smile. Vartann simply raised an eyebrow. Brass frowned.

"Those two are nuts."

"Oh come on Jim. Leave them be," Vega shuffled the deck.

Vartann nodded, "Yeah, women always laugh at times like these. My sister laughed at everything when the times got tough."

"Still nuts. You gonna deal Sam or you need to rules explained again?"

"Yeah, yeah. Five card."

All laughter and ribbing was brought to a halt, but the sudden appearance of one Gil Grissom.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

His face was sore, but it was him mind and soul that hurt the most. Grissom sat upon the paper sheet wrapped around the examine table. The hospital gown was itching and the draft in the back was enough to make him want to walk out. But the doctor put him in a room directly in from of the information desk for the E.R. There was no way out without being seen by someone.

A soft sigh left his lips and he looked around the room again. Dr. Mercer seemed nice, but she just didn't seem to understand that he didn't need to be in this room. He had gotten off easy. She had no need to waste any effort on him. Nick and Warrick needed her undivided attention.

The door opened and swung inward, emitting the small female doctor. She wore a small smile, "Dr. Grissom."

He nodded at her hello. She moved around the room without wasting any movements. All the equipment she would be using on him was already out and ready. Grissom watched her settle herself onto the black stool and turn her attention to him.

"How are Nick and Warrick?"

Dr. Mercer was not put off by the question. In fact, she looked completely prepared for it. Grissom didn't like the look she did at her hands first though. From years of interrogations, he had learned that was never a good sign.

"We are still working on them. Mr. Brown is almost completely stabilized. And Mr. Stokes…well, we are getting positive things done."

"Then what the hell are you doing in here! You shouldn't be wasting time looking over these bruises. Discharge me and get on with it."

"You arrived to this emergency room in an ambulance, Dr. Grissom. By hospital policy, I am required to check you over before you're allowed to leave."

He stood quickly to his feet, "Policy means nothing when my guys' lives are in danger."

"Please sit back down," Susan stood as well, holding her hands out in front of her, "The sooner you allow me to do my work, the sooner you can get out of that gown."

Grissom looked stunned, "What?"

"I have no desire to hold you back from seeing your CSI's. All I need to do is some quick checks and you're free. But to do this, you need to sit back down. That lip won't clean itself."

Not knowing what else to do, Grissom sat back down, the paper crumpling under his weight. He tried not to shift as she examined his face, eyes, and ears. His lips stung when she pressed the cleansing cloth to the cut. The stethoscope was cold against the skin of his chest and he always felt like a fool taking those deep breaths. But with everything that was done to him, the doctor's face smiled more and more.

"All I need is a blood sample and we're done. Simple, no?"

"I'm sorry," Grissom ran a tired hand across his jaw, "I just need to know they're okay."

"Believe me. I completely understand. You forget I was here for Nick the two times he was brought into my E.R. These men are important, not only to you."

Dr. Mercer walked over to the tray holding the syringe and tubing. Grissom held out his arm and allowed the yellow rubber to be tied around his upper arm. He clenched a fist without prompting and waited to feel that annoying prick. It was over before he knew it.

"Would I be able to see them?"

"Of course. I was planning on having them placed in a room together so it would be easier on everyone involved, though mostly the staff here. There will be short visits with small groups of friends and family. Reporters are not allowed inside the doors."

"No, I mean as soon as I get clothes on."

This bought the doctor up short. She frowned at him and looked troubled. Grissom didn't like this silence. He would have much rather had her tell him off. Finally, she sighed and looked away from at the door.

"I don't know what good it would do. They are both drugged and will most likely be asleep. Nick should be out of it for at least twenty four hours yet."

"It doesn't matter," Grissom stood again, "I just need to see them. They don't have to be awake."

She looked back over at the taller man and made up her mind, "Alright, but if they are sleeping, leave them be. It will only be a short visit and no one else must see you go in. There are rules that need to be followed here. I break enough as it is."

There was no look of disgust or annoyance on her face. Grissom knew that she understood and would not deny him this. She nodded to his clothes and left without another word. He wasted no time in ripping the gown off. These clothes were clean and smelled of the lab. Greg had been kind enough to grab all three men's spare clothes from their lockers since he knew the ones that had been wearing would go directly into evidence.

Once he was dressed, shoes tied, Grissom walked over and opened the door. Dr. Mercer was signing something and turned to him. A pen was held out towards him. His discharge papers were waiting.

"You are free to go. Just keep those bruises iced for a couple days and take it easy. Your muscles are going to be sore and tired. Simple aspirin will suffice. I suggest you take at least four days off to get some rest. But all in all, you are completely fine physically. Your job will determine procedures for mental healing. If you need, I know some really good doctors who deal with post events like these…well, not quite like these, but you know what I mean."

"Good to hear. And thanks. There are mandatory evaluations after traumatic events and seeking therapy is a must."

He signed the forms and handed them back to the nurse behind the counter. The woman didn't even bother to look at him. It didn't matter at all. Grissom's attention was completely on the doctor. Again, she nodded her head and began to walk away. He followed with no hesitation.

Her voice was low, "Only Mr. Brown is currently in the room. He was awake according to the nurse that was just in the room. The poison has been neutralized and he should make a full recovery. We are monitoring the removal of the leftovers, but his system should be cleaned out in a few hours. There were some cuts on his knuckles, so a few stitches were needed in order to ensure proper closure of the wounds. His body will take care of itself in time."

"And Nick?"

"Mr. Stokes is still being worked on. I will be going back to see him as soon as I drop you off. When he is ready, I'll bring him in and fill you in on what is going on."

They stopped in front of a closed door, "This is it."

Grissom nodded and not another word was said. He watched as Dr. Mercer took off back in the direction they had come. Looking around, he took notice that they were still in the ICU of the hospital. His guys weren't out of the storm yet apparently.

His hand rose with a shake to grasp the doorknob. His breath caught in his throat as the door opened, his nostrils assaulted with the scent of healing. There wasn't a great deal of light in the room, but he made out Warrick's shape on the far bed with no problem. Grissom's feet almost worked on their own accord to take him the side of the bed.

Warrick had been resting his eyes, but the new arrival forced them open. He was waiting for news on Nick. The nurse didn't seem to care to fill him in on anything. He was hoping this was that nice doctor again. It wasn't.

"Grissom?"

"Hey, how're you doing?"

"Felt better. Have you heard about Nicky?"

"Not much. I just got out of my own examination. Dr. Mercer only said they are still working on him. He was pretty roughed up."

Warrick chuckled, "If you call that roughed up, I would hate to see what you call fucked up."

Both men grinned for a moment. But reality slipped back in and weighed the both down. Warrick almost could feel himself get pushed further down in the mattress. His body screamed for sleep, but his mind wouldn't allow it.

"At least that doctor's awesome. She'll be able to fix him back up. Did wonders for me. Guess that frog toxin can't hold up to some needles and clear liquids, I guess."

Grissom nodded at the remark, "Yeah, she will put him back together again. But Warrick. How're you really doing?"

"Well, I'm drugged up and my body is killing me. But, not too bad I guess. Got something pumping into me that is cleaning my blood out. Making me really tired."

"No, I mean how are you handling all of this? We went through at lot and I need to know how you are dealing with this, emotionally and mentally."

The new question brought Warrick up short. He had been hoping to avoid that for a little while longer. Maybe like until he was on his death bed. But leave it to Grissom to bring it up before he had yet to see his partner. And from the look he was getting, there was no way to avoid it.

"I don't know. It's going to take time. A lot of fucked up shit happened in that room. Can't say I'm not going to have nightmares about it. I know I will have to see the lab shrink and to be honest…I really think I should. As for the emotions, you best be asking Nick about those. Man has more emotions in his entire body than I have in my big toe."

"At least you are honest about it." Grissom chuckled at that little rant, "No doubt I will need your help to get Nick in there to speak with him about all of this as well."

Warrick nodded, knowing full well about Nick and shrinks, "Yeah, but I'll get him in there even if I have to drag him."

Silence fell over the two men and Grissom looked around the room. It wasn't anything special, but he took notice that the beds were fairly close together. He shook his head and walked over to the chair situated by the window. A little pull and he brought it closer to Warrick's bed.

The taller CSI watched his boss get comfortable in the chair, "Is everyone else here?"

"Most likely. Catherine rode in with you. Brass brought Greg in. And I hear Sara is back, with Vega and Vartann. They brought Miguel Johnson in to be checked out."

"Party in the waiting room. When are they coming?"

"Don't know. I asked if I could see you guys first. The doctor had to move quickly and not let anyone see me come in here."

"We owe her dinner," Warrick sat up more against the pillows.

"And some flowers."

Any further conversation was interrupted by the door opening once again. The first thing through was a rolling bed. Nick was pale and small underneath the white sheet. Dr. Mercer rested her hand on the railing as it was moved inside. Two male nurses accompanied her.

Warrick turned on his bed and watched every move the three hospital members made. They shifted Nick from one bed to the other by using the sheet underneath his body. Once the Texan was situated on the new mattress, Dr. Mercer began placing the IV's and monitor stickers. The soft beeping of Nick's heart beat was almost better than Mozart to Warrick and Grissom.

The two nurses left without as much as a glance at the other two men in the room. Dr. Mercer was left alone as she made sure everything was in order. It only took a total of five minutes, but it seemed forever to the other two.

"Well, here he is."

"How is he?"

"Is he alright?"

The two questions were thrown at her, one on top the other, "Yes, he will be just fine. It took some work, but I believe everything is done. He's going to be extremely weak and will probably remain asleep for awhile due to the allergy meds I have in his body. The poison was dealt with as was the blood loss. I performed an emergency transfusion to make up for it. It took some work to close the stab wound, but nothing major was damaged. He will probably need some therapy to regain some of the damaged muscle usage in the area though.

And his arm was reset. This time I put a thicker cast on. Hopefully this one will be allowed to do its job. If those bones are not allowed to heal, Nick may lose some of the movement in his hand. I am planning on keeping this cast on a little longer. His therapist will also be able to work with him on it."

"But he's going to make it?" Warrick asked almost fearfully.

"Yes. He will be just fine in time. Just don't give up and help him through this. You three did well. You all deserve a vacation. Hit the assistance button should anything come up. I'll be back in thirty minutes to check on him."

They watched as she left. As soon as the door clicked shut, Grissom was on his feet and over at Nick's bedside. He didn't protest as he felt Warrick shuffle over as well, the IV pole dragging behind him. Both had similar thoughts as they looked down at their friend.

The Texan looked so small, so vulnerable on the white sheets. Warrick didn't like the sheen on his pale flesh. He had to keep himself from looking at the heart monitor screen to make sure this wasn't all a dream. His hand reached out, trembling badly. The skin he touched was cold, sweaty.

"This is all my fault."

Grissom looked up sharply to look hard into Warrick's face, "How is any of this your fault?"

"I broke his arm. I made him open to Tenner's sick obsession. It was just a simple shove and now look at him."

"No, Warrick. I put you two on the case. It was me that put the two of you in his sights. Everything else was only a matter of time in that man's mind. The arm break was just a play in his favor, but not the reason."

Warrick shook his head and gripped Nick's arm harder. He didn't want to let the man out of his sights, no less from his touch. It was still possible this was all a dream from the frog toxin and Nick would vanish if he didn't keep tabs on him.

"I should have fought harder for him."

"How would you be able to do that tied to that chair as you were?" Grissom raised an eyebrow, "Besides, you were poisoned as well. There was only so much you could do."

"Still…"

"Warrick, look at me."

The taller man did so reluctantly. Grissom turned to fully face him and rested a hand on his broad right shoulder, "You did what you could. Both of you are alive and will be fine. You have nothing to blame yourself for."

Warrick nodded slowly, his gaze returning to his partner. It was going to be hard to accept, but he was willing to try it. His body began to protest being vertical. Both legs were being to shake and Warrick was sure they wouldn't hold him up much longer.

Grissom also took notice. Before waiting to see how long it would take for him to fall over, he grabbed Warrick's arm and pulled him back towards the other bed. Protests were heard, but fully ignored. Warrick's eyes began to close as soon as Grissom pulled the blankets back over his form.

The door opened again. Dr. Mercer walked back in and nodded to Grissom. She took in both sleeping forms and smiled. Maybe this was the best idea to keep them together.

"Your colleagues are asking to see them."

"Did you tell them anything?"

"No, you are the only other contact on their forms. Wish to wave?"

"Tell them what they want. Save time. I'll be right behind you."

She nodded again. Grissom waited for her to leave before he turned to his CSI's again. He wished to stay and wait to see Nick wake up as well, but knew that wouldn't be possible right now. Walking between both beds so he was level with both men's chests, he sighed.

"I'm sorry this happened to both of you. But I promise to help you through this. You are not alone. I'm proud of both of you."

Neither moved. Their soft breathing was his answer. It caused Grissom to grin slightly. There had been many hours he was afraid that would be something he would never hear again. With one last glance, he removed himself from the room. The door shut softly behind him.

No one was in the hall and Grissom followed the signs until he found the waiting room. It was weird to enter it from this direction. The rest of his group was waiting for him. Catherine and Sara were sitting side by side. The four guys goofing around a game of cards. His grin grew.

"Glad to see you all still working."

Catherine stood and walked over to him. She didn't stop until her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, "You three do that to me again and I'll be the one to kill you!"

"Glad to see you too. Who's processing the church?"

"Ya know, you don't have to work all the time," Jim Brass smacked him on the shoulder, "Day shift has it under control. Vartann and I'll make sure of it. And Miguel Johnson will be taken care of as well. Child services is here, waiting."

Vega walked over as well, "And we have good news on Kevin Starr. Talked with Robbins, his parents came and made arrangements. Seems they were on vacation and didn't even know he wasn't home."

"He was the mauling vic? Need to get work finished with him so I can help you put those two men behind bars for good. Have more on them?" Vartann asked as he pulled Vega over to the side a little for some more information.

"But how're you doing?" Sara asked softly.

"Sara, good to see you again. Sorry I didn't say that back at the scene. But I'm well."

No one seemed to believe him. Even Greg had complete disbelief on his features. Grissom shook his head and mumbled to himself. This was his family.

"How are Nick and Warrick?"

"They'll be fine. Dr. Mercer is optimistic and says they will be out of the hospital soon. They are going to need our help though."

Catherine smiled, "But of course. Those two need all the help they can get."

Laughter filled the room and everyone looked to calm down. Grissom rubbed at his face, "We should head back to the lab. They're both asleep and will not wake for awhile. There is a lot of work to do. Besides, I think Catherine and I need to have a chat with Conrad."

"Now what did he do?" Vega walked closer.

"Let's just say he needs to learn to screen guests to the lab better next time. A pretty smile shouldn't be enough to let anyone in personal files room. That information is personal for a reason."

The words hit hard. Catherine's face turned vicious, Brass actually sneered. It was going to be interesting when they walked through those glass doors.

Catherine wasted no time in walking over to her purse, "Where the hell are my keys! I'm going to fry his head."

"I'm ready. I'll drive," Brass growled.

The group left, much to the relief of the secretary in the room. Grissom followed closely in the back. He really wasn't up to having to deal with Ecklie right now, but it seemed he may not even have to say a word. There were enough people to do that for him. He would save his strength to hold Catherine back though if need be.

Doors slide open to allow him into the open air. Grissom took a deep breath. His eyes closed against the bright light. The healing had begun. He was up to the work to get his guys through it. They would be back. Most likely again tonight.

***

Epilogue

His body protested his being awake. Nick managed to pull himself upright against his pillows, but it had taken some time to do so. After all, he had recently been stabbed in the lower back. His arm was throbbing once again underneath the new plaster. Hell, his entire being throbbed under the white sheet. It was hot in the room, but he hated to look at those damn hospital pants.

Soft snores filled the room from his sleeping partner. Nick had watched Warrick for a few minutes before turning his attention to the room they were in. It seemed odd they were together. After all, they had been put through hell and brought back. They should both be dead and where ever fate deemed a good place for the two of them.

Nick didn't deny that fact that he should probably be dead right now. He had slipped in and out of consciousness when the nurses were in the room. Through their quiet conversations and Warrick's guilt talks when he thought Nick couldn't hear, he knew about the stabbing and the poison. It had been close. Too close.

The sad thing, all he could really think about though was the fact he would probably be placed in the lab for good or never work a case alone again. Grissom had been there to see his weakness and it killed him a little inside. His partner was there as well, but he could live with his brother seeing him like that. Besides, Warrick had dealt with the poison in his system. He understood what it did.

Many people had been in their room. From listening to them talk to him and mumble amongst themselves, he learned only two days had passed since that day in that church. Two days since Tenner vanished without a trace. Two days since Ecklie had accepted his wrongs in this situation.

It didn't matter though. Nick didn't really care. He knew he should, but couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. It was clear that he would hide this away with everything else. There would be a new folder in his mind, right besides the babysitter, Hendler, Crane. They would all have their neat little white labels. The drawer would remain closed.

Nick turned his head slowly to the table next to his bed. The glass reflected the light from his monitor. An eerie green glow lit up the tiny world. Sara and Greg had brought this in for him. It should have freaked him out. But it didn't. It was beautiful and soothing all at the same time. It added to the comfort Warrick brought him from the other bed.

He knew he was safe. He knew Warrick would help him. His brother would receive his help as well. Their fears would go away. They would move forward. Eventually. Even if it was only on the surface.

The tiny frog chirped her song.

And Nick smiled.

"Serenity" by Godsmack

As I sit here and slowly close my eyes
I take another deep breath
And feel the wind pass through my body
I'm the one in your soul
Reflecting inner light
Protect the ones who hold you
Cradling your inner child

I need serenity
In a place where I can hide
I need serenity
Nothing changes, days go by

Where do we go when we just don't know? and

How do we relight the flame when it's cold?
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing? and
When will we learn to control?

Tragic visions slowly stole my life
Tore away everything
Cheating me out of my time
I'm the one who loves you
No matter wrong or right
And every day I hold you
I hold you with my inner child

I need serenity

In a place where I can hide

I need serenity

Nothing changes, days go by

Where do we go when we just don't know? and

How do we relight the flame when it's cold?

Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing? and

When will we learn to control?

I need serenity

…Where do we go when we just don't know? and

I need serenity

…How do we relight the flame when it's cold?

I need serenity

…Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing? And

I need serenity

…When will we learn to control?

No one is immune to fear. It comes in many shapes and forms. To another, it may seem silly and stupid. But to the person experiencing that rush of blood, goose bumps from head to toe, and prickly hair on end, it makes all the sense. It erases all logic and reasoning from even the brightest. It brings out the trembling child in the biggest and strongest. A gun will not protect you. A friend will only fall with you. What is it that can make your heart stop?

The battle against one's fears has been going on since the beginning of time. Many have fallen into their living nightmares, others have risen above. Fear can be beaten, overridden. It is hard, many give up. But there is always an open window to the outside, a calm world away from demons and haunts. A world of complete serenity. Here, there are many weapons against the things that go bump in the night. A gun is not needed. A friend will walk besides you. What is it that can make your heart stronger?

????????

***