'All In': What Should Have Happened

Calleigh opened her eyes, her vision blurred at first but steadily becoming clear. She sat up slowly, careful not to strain her wrists, which were tied behind her back. She struggled to breathe, only too aware of the tightly bound gag that threatened to suffocate her, and the pungent, sweet sensation it brought upon her senses each time she inhaled. 'Chloroform,' her mind told her non-coherent self. All she could remember was that she had pulled over to help a man lying in the middle of the freeway…he had gotten up…and another from behind her…no wait…maybe? She distinctly remembered the taste of the drug, the helplessness she felt as she collapsed in the arms of her assailants, the feeling of wanting to fight, but not knowing how… Coughing, she gazed around the old, dimly-lit room and recoiled in horror. In the middle of the room, next to a pool table littered with an assortment of objects, lay the bloodied body of a man. His cause of death was obvious; there was a bullet hole in his chest, 'probably a 29 caliber, 'Calleigh thought to herself. She shuddered as her eyes trailed over the body, registering the pale face, the congealed blood pooled around the still corpse, the stench of rotting skin. 'What the hell happened here? Am I going to end up like him?' Suddenly, she heard a grating noise, like a door sliding open; someone was coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see two men, one white, the other black, walking towards her in a leisurely fashion. As they approached her, the white man dragged a chair up to where she lay and sat down. He then cocked his gun, a 29 caliber pistol, and pointed it at her. He motioned to his partner and said in a deep voice, "Pick her up." As the black man yanked the gag out of her parched, swollen mouth, Calleigh inhaled deeply—she coughed, and licked the dry edges of her mouth, grimacing as her tongue detected the metallic, iron taste of blood.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"We want to solve a crime with Calleigh," the white man replied.

Calleigh's eyes widened. So it had been the website that had gotten her kidnapped. Stupid Cooper. She bet he hadn't thought about the dangers at all, or he had never even cared in the first place.

"See our poker buddy, Robert," the man said, bringing Calleigh back to the present, "He…uh…hmmm." He shook his head. "He didn't give us what we wanted, so he had to pay the price. And then Tommy here found your website…."

At this, the black man, she assumed he was Tommy, shook her violently and said in a rough voice, "Look, you're a C.S.I, right? Make it so this can't be traced back to us!"

"You expect me to cover up a murder?" Calleigh mumbled in disbelief, her voice breaking on the last word. She just couldn't believe what was happening. Damn, she was going to kill Cooper, if she made it out of this alive.

Tommy shook her again, rougher this time, his hand coming up to slap her face. "Okay, okay!" Calleigh said hurriedly. "Uh…let me think. You need gloves, gotta bleach the floor, wipe up all the surfaces for fingerprints, for shoeprints, for any skin trace." She was rambling, she knew it, but if she planned to survive this, she'd have to play it their way.

The man in the chair stared at her, his gun still directed at her head. "What else?"

"I need to get the bullet out of the body. They could trace it back to your gun. But you're going to have to untie me for that." She stopped, afraid she had gone too far, but the man simply nodded. Tommy drew a small, jagged knife from his belt and shoved Calleigh forward. He sawed at the rope that bound her hands; she held her breath, not daring to move. After what seemed like a lifetime, she felt the rope snap and hastily brought her hands up to her chest, rubbing her sore wrists as she attempted to restore the blood circulation. Tommy seized her left arm, yanking her upward, practically throwing her at the dead man's body. As she collided with the floor, she cried out as bone met concrete, which welcomed its assailant with a crunching blow. Clenching her teeth against the pain, Calleigh knelt on the floor, only too aware of the two pairs of eyes following her every move. She ran her fingers over the wound, calculating the depth of the bullet. There it was, near the top of the entry hole; they were fortunate it hadn't been buried too deep.

"You're lucky. This bullet's near the surface." Bracing herself, she stood up slowly and took a careful step towards the poker table.

"Stop," the man in the chair—she thought she had heard Tommy call him Seth—said, just as his partner grabbed her arm. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice was dangerously low and he cocked his pistol once again, this time aiming it at her newly damaged knees.

"I need to get something to get the bullet out with." She stared down at the floor, silently praying they would give her a chance. Seth nodded reluctantly and Tommy released his forceful grip. Calleigh limped over to the table and grabbed the first usable object in her line of sight: a fork. Forcing her body to ignore the throb of pain shooting through her knees, she knelt down once again beside the cadaver; she could feel Seth's gun trained on her back. She felt around the entrance wound, and then stuck the end of the fork into it, digging through blood and tissue, grimacing as specks of gore splashed onto her face. She reached into the ragged hole and picked out the missing bullet—she had been right, it was a 29' caliber. Trembling, she leaned back and held out the small, blood-spattered piece of metal. "Get rid of that," she told Tommy. He took the projectile from her quivering hand.

"Good," Seth said. He glanced at his partner. "You think you can get the next bullet out on your own?" Tommy nodded. "Yeah?" Seth turned back to Calleigh, who sat frozen on the floor, watching him with wide, terrified eyes. "What do we need her for?" He pointed his gun at her, his finger moving closer and closer to the trigger….

"I wouldn't do that," Calleigh murmured.

"Why's that?" Seth said, his voice contemptuous of her feeble attempts to save herself.

Calleigh knew she had to improvise; he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "That bullet smells like garlic."

"What the hell does that mean?" Tommy asked.

"It means I need you to get me some toilet cleaner, a lint roller, speaker wire, and a black light." She desperately hoped her C.S.I. training would get her out of this mess.

"Yeah, we'll get right on that," Seth said, tilting his head and raising his gun. "You should stop stalling."

Calleigh sucked in her breath, preparing herself for the fatal gunshot. "Just trying to do what you asked me to do—"

"Well, I think we should see what she can do," Tommy interrupted.

Silence. Then….

"Okay," Seth said, clearly irritated. "You can be my delivery boy."

Tommy rolled his eyes and left the room, slamming the door behind him as he went. Again, silence. Calleigh stepped back towards the far wall and carefully leaned against it, closing her eyes. She heard Seth sit back in his chair and toss his pistol around, playing with it. She only prayed he would leave her alone. Standing with her back to the cold, bare wall, Calleigh longed to be back at the lab. She could almost hear her colleagues bickering, joking around, could almost see their faces, always in the same order: Horatio, Eric, Alexx, Natalia, Ryan, Frank. Speed…. A tear rolled down her cheek, lingering for a moment on her cheek before slipping away. For the first time since she had been kidnapped, she felt a pang of despair. What if she never saw them again? Did they even know she was missing? 'Yes, of course,' she told herself firmly. 'Eric and Horatio are looking for me right now; if I could only give them some way to find me.' Then she remembered the cigarette Seth had been smoking. From her training, she knew that DNA from the smoker remained in the cigarette long after he or she had disposed of it. If only she could get it to Horatio….

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the scrape of a chair being slid back, nor the faint click of footsteps coming closer, closer….

Calleigh opened her eyes in shock. Her kidnapper was standing directly in front of here, a wicked grin plastered on his face. Guessing his intentions but refusing to show her fear, she glared virulently at him and said softly, "I would rather die than have you touch me."

He reached out, his fingers brushing past her hair—Calleigh swung at him… and missed….

"H!" Eric yelled into his cell phone. "It's Calleigh, she's been kidnapped!"

On the other end of the line, Horatio's eyes widened. Of all the times for his best C.S.I. to be in trouble… he closed his eyes and sighed, running his fingers through his bright crimson, windswept hair. Rio had been disastrous; he had been sent there by his ex-wife with conviction of a murder charge, and then almost killed by a vengeful gang after his unnaturally hasty release. And now, Calleigh was missing.

"All right, Eric, calm down, we'll find her. First things first, we need to locate her Hummer."

"Frank just called. He's spotted a vacant Hummer pulled over by the highway. He's about to go check it out."

"Okay, I'll meet you down there. Remember, Calleigh's our number one priority, so get the whole team on it."

Horatio closed his phone and inhaled deeply. Poor Calleigh. He hoped she wasn't hurt….

Seth struck Calleigh hard across her face, drawing blood, hitting her with such force, she was thrown to the ground. Before she could recover from the blow, he drove his steel-toed boot into her side once, twice, a third time, until she lay still, moaning, her bruised cheek pressed against the cold, damp ground. The sharp stab of pain shooting up her legs as her knees shattered against the floor was nothing compared to the agony she felt at this moment. As he knelt down on top of her, she felt something snap—she gasped in pain. He leaned across her damaged body and slammed his fist into her chest. She yelled, struggling to breathe.

"No," she wheezed. "Please, stop, get off, can't…breathe…."

He lowered his gun to her forehead, pressing the cool metal against her pallid, sweaty skin. "Never, ever do that again," he demanded, his voice like steel. He shook her shoulders violently. "You got that?"

Calleigh tilted her head back and cried out, her voice strained. "Yes, yes, just…get off…."

Seth slapped her once more—by now, her cheek was swollen, and her bottom lip was cracked and bloodied—and stood up. As soon as his weight was lifted off her body, Calleigh clutched her abdomen. She was almost positive she had broken a few ribs, not to mention sustained a minor concussion. She slowly and painfully dragged herself over to the wall, her eyes never leaving his face. He was smiling at her.

"You stay over there, now. You hear me? Yeah, that's right, stay over there." He turned away from her broken form and sank back down into his chair. Suddenly, the door burst open. Tommy was back, his hands empty.

"I checked everywhere, Seth, and I can't find anything she told us to get. I mean, it's not like there's a store out there that sells everything we want... and I couldn't go far—what if the cops know we have her?"

Seth shot him a dark look. "I think we might have some of the stuff over at my house. But that would mean taking her." He jerked his head to where she lay, propped up against the wall. "And, if the cops don't know about us yet, we don't want them finding out now."

"Seth," Tommy said. "Do we really even need her? I mean she's cleared the room and they won't be able to trace this murder back to us… and we could take the bullet with us…."

By this time, Calleigh was visibly trembling, her eyes scrunched up in pain as her battered chest convulsed with each breath she took. Seth looked at her, then back at Tommy, then back at her.

"You know, Tommy, I like the way you think." He cocked his gun and aimed it at her body. "But I don't think we should have another murder on our hands. Better to leave for dead than leave dead, I like to say." He grinned and inched his finger towards the trigger—Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting for the inevitable….

BAM!

A flash of burning, searing pain… but wait, where was the welcomed darkness, the one thing that would shield her from the torture of her beaten body. She screamed in anguish, opening her eyes, and glanced down at the origin of this new pain. Blood. Warm, red liquid flowing from the deep wound in her left thigh. Oh, god, she hoped the bullet hadn't punctured her femoral artery.

"There." Seth's voice came from somewhere to her right. "Not too hard for me to get out, what with your enlightenment on my C.S.I. training." He had a fork clutched in his hand; he lowered it closer and closer to Calleigh's leg. Right when his hand was positioned above her wound, realization dawned upon her.

"Wha—NO!" She screamed louder, feebly struggling to get away, tears cascading down her cheeks. "I won't let you, get away, no—AGHHH!"

Seth dug into her raw flesh with the tip of the fork until he found his bullet. "There, that wasn't too bad, now was it?" He laughed, then rose to his feet and strode across the room away from Calleigh, who lay in a pool of her own blood, paralyzed on the floor. She knew she wouldn't die from her injuries for at least two days, and she knew Seth was well aware of that; he planned to leave her alone in the vacant, old warehouse, writhing in pain until she took her final breath. She clenched her teeth, gasping weakly as her every move, every twist and turn, sent a spasm of pain throughout her body. Somewhere off to her left, she heard a door slam shut. Her kidnappers had abandoned her. No doubt, they weren't expecting her to survive long enough for the team to find her.

Eric leaned forward, glaring at the suspect in front of him. He had followed the evidence retrieved at Calleigh's Hummer; it had led him to this man. He was convinced the man knew where Calleigh was being held, and he was also only too aware of how little time was left for them to find her alive.

"C.S.I.? I don't know anything about a missing C.S.I., just that I lost all my belongings in a poker game last night." The man gulped; Eric's glare was murderous.

"Well, we think our kidnappers may have attended that same poker game. Can you tell me where it was at? Oh, and don't lie, we already know it was underground. And illegal."

The man looked down at his feet and mumbled an address. Then, Eric was up out of his seat, already in the midst of dialing the number he knew so well….

"Lieutenant Caine speaking."

"Yeah, H, I know where they're holding Calleigh."

Silence.

Then, "Okay, Eric, here's what we do. Call S.W.A.T. and meet me down there now."

"M.D.P.D! Open up!" The two men—Lieutenant and C.S.I.—stood outside the padlocked warehouse. Horatio nodded to Eric, who pulled out a sledgehammer; he raised it above his head, and then slammed it down against the titanium lock. As it shattered, Eric kicked down the door, littering the ground with pieces of metal and wood. Horatio followed him inside, his gun raised and aimed. He motioned for S.W.A.T. to spread out and surround the area; if Calleigh's kidnappers were still in the vicinity, he had no intention of letting them escape. He glanced to his left, where Eric stood, his face a dark mask. "Eric, you take the left and I'll take the right. We gotta find her; she could be in critical condition."

"What if she's not here? What if she's—dead?" His voice broke at the last word, and he turned his face away from his boss. Horatio's heart froze at Eric's words. What if Calleigh, his sweetheart, the first member of his team, and the strongest person he had ever known, was, indeed, dead? Who would he turn to now, whenever he needed comfort—God, he remembered when he first came up with that nickname.

*FLASHBACK*

Horatio stood in front of the firearms lab, his hands on his hips, and his mind in a different place.

"Hey, handsome!" Horatio turned around to find himself staring into the bright, cheery smile of his ballistics expert. "Damn, what's got you hanging around here? Or are you just looking for a nice, quiet place to relax, maybe drink some coffee…." Calleigh Duquesne winked at her boss, a devious smirk spread across her face.

"Good morning to you too, Calleigh. I'm just stopping by the lab, checking equipment, taking a moment…well before you interrupted."

Calleigh grinned, her smile blinding. "And here I thought you were finally taking a break from work…." She shook her head. "Well, I have a million cases to look over. A couple guns, a harpoon…oh, and there's this medieval sword!" She looked longingly at the door to the lab.

Horatio smiled; she adored her guns and was always eager for a rare, unique weapon to test—her irrevocable love for guns made her one of the best in her field. Actually, come to think of it, he had never met a better ballistics expert. "Good, I'll let you get to that. I have to go and—" BUZZ. BUZZ. "Oh, that must be dispatch." He reached down to his belt and removed his phone from its case. "This is Lieutenant Caine. Yeah? Alright, I'm on my way." He hung up and looked at Calleigh, who stood watching him with an amused expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing." She smiled, then glanced back to the lab doors. "What did dispatch say?"

"A sixteen-year-old girl has just been found stabbed to death in her bathroom, and I'm needed at the scene. I'll call you if I find anything."

Calleigh nodded. "Okay, thanks Horatio, I'll just be in here."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Calleigh laughed, her face breaking out into a wide smile. "Bye, handsome."

*PRESENT DAY*

"We're gonna find her, Eric. I won't let anything happen to her, not if I can help it." Then, to himself: 'I'm coming for you, sweetheart, just hold on.' Horatio moved forward, keeping his gun in position, Eric in close proximity. He squinted into the darkness; he could make out a large figure lying on the floor in front of him. "Eric, there's a body." He heard Eric's breathing stop. Horatio himself was hesitant to keep moving; he didn't think he could bear to see Calleigh's cold, lifeless body—she wouldn't be his first; he had held Speed as he took his last breath. Moving closer and closer toward the body, it became easier and easier for Horatio to make out its form. "It's not Calleigh."

Eric let out a relieved sigh. "Well, if she's not here, then where is she?" He watched as Horatio knelt down beside the dead man's body.

"Eric, this body's been cleaned…that's what they needed Calleigh for."

Eric clenched his fists. He knew it had been Cooper's fault! If he hadn't posted her new license number on his website, or her exact location, she would never have been kidnapped; he was going to strangle Cooper the next time he saw him…. Suddenly, Eric heard a faint sound, almost like a cry for help. "H, did you hear that?" He saw Horatio glance at him, then scan the room. Eric turned toward where he thought the noise was coming from. There it was again—it was more of a strangled gasp this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, seemingly from a dimly-lit corner of the room. He raised his gun. "H! Did you see that?" He heard his boss fall into step behind him.

"I've got your back, Eric."

At this, Eric inched forward and said in a loud voice, "Whoever's there, come out with your hands up!" In response, all he heard was a soft whimper.

"Wait, Eric," Horatio said tentatively. "That's not…hold on for a second." He slid his gun into its holster, then walked towards what looked like a person…. "Eric! It's Calleigh!" He ran the remainder of the way over to her beaten body and knelt down. As he sank to his knees, he almost slipped in what looked like a dark, congealed liquid—he came to the shocking realization that he was kneeling in a pool of Calleigh's blood. Calleigh was convulsing, her blonde hair clinging to her skin in matted clumps, glistening beads of sweat dripping down her face. Her body, like her face, was white as sheet and, when he grabbed her trembling hands, he was shocked to find them ice cold. Behind him, he heard Eric catch his breath; Horatio knew he and Eric were thinking the same thing: she wasn't going to make it, how long had she been laying there—fourteen hours? Horatio shook his head, as if to clear the pessimistic thoughts. No, she was going to survive this, no matter what. "Eric." His voice was hard. "Call an ambulance, tell them to hurry, and call Alexx. She may be able to keep Calleigh from going into shock while we wait for help." Eric, his expression tortured, nodded, and ran off to get help. Horatio stared back down at Calleigh, his heart tightening as he saw her lying there, so vulnerable. She had always been the strongest, always the person to go to when one needed assistance; in all his years working with her, he had only seen her cry once: at Speed's funeral. And now, she barely had the strength to cry, let alone move. Her eyes were closed, her teeth clenched together, though she still couldn't stop the agonized cries coming from her mouth as each breath she took was followed by a relentless wave of pain. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, her breath coming in wild gasps.

"Hor-a-ti-o…." She grasped his hand feebly.

"Calleigh?" Horatio choked out her name; she was in so much pain.

"H-ey, ha-nd-s-s-ome. Y-y-you c-came." She struggled to smile, then sucked back her breath as she fought against another onslaught of pain.

"Yeah, sweetheart, just like I told you I would. You're gonna make it; Alexx is on her way. Now stop talking, relax, and hold on."

Calleigh nodded slowly and painfully, then squeezed her eyes shut. Horatio rubbed her hands with his and spread his jacket over her body; if she went into shock, they would be too late to save her.

"Where is she, where's my baby girl?"

"Alexx! In here!" Horatio was immensely relieved to see his medical examiner—who was also his close friend—run into the room, followed closely by Eric. Alexx acknowledged her boss with a quick nod, then sprinted over to kneel down beside Calleigh, whose trembling had gotten worse; she was panting in hard, short breaths, her fists clenched against the frigid ground.

"Baby girl, it's okay, I'm here, shhh, you're gonna be fine."

Calleigh opened her now-bloodshot eyes, and, unseeing, shuddered. "A-a-Alexx?"

Alexx stroked her friend's damp hair and sucked in a deep breath. Calleigh looked terrible; her skin was pallid and icy, her face and hair covered with sweat and blood, her breathing shallow and pained. Her heart reached out to the beaten C.S.I., whom she had come to know as a close friend, even as a daughter. Gazing down at her bruised and battered body, at her weakened frame, Alexx swore to herself she would do everything in her power to keep Calleigh alive. Calleigh had to survive; she was the strongest individual Alexx had ever known, especially having grown up with abusive parents—her dad was an alcoholic, her mom almost nonexistent.

"Yeah, honey—Calleigh, babe—it's me, I'm here."

Calleigh made a faint attempt to smile; as she did, her head dropped upon her chest, and her eyes closed.

"Calleigh?" Eric yelled out, fear dominant in his voice as he watched his best friend lose herself to the oncoming wave of unconsciousness.

"It's okay, Eric," Alexx reassured him. "She's lost consciousness, and that can only help her at this point; she's in too much pain as it is. Let her mind protect itself."

He nodded, still tensed. Horatio watched the exchange between his associates and felt their fear—yes, Calleigh was no longer in pain, but, in a state of unconsciousness, she needed urgent care. "Alexx, we need to get her to the hospital. Is it safe to move her?"

Alexx prodded Calleigh's body carefully with gentle fingers. "From what I can feel, she's broken at least four ribs, sustained a major concussion, her sternum is shattered, she's been shot through her upper thigh—there's major tearing around the wound and no bullet inside, so it's possible her captors dug it out with some kind of tool—and, although I'm not positive, she could have internal damage. There are defensive markings on her hands and arms; she must have been trying to fight them off…."

Horatio and Eric caught their breaths. So Calleigh had made an attempt to fight off her attackers. She hadn't stood a chance, though; they had outnumbered her and were simply too strong.

"Poor baby…." Alexx placed her hand on Calleigh's; it left goosebumps as she rubbed her warm palm against the C.S.I.'s freezing skin. "We're going to have to move her slowly—any sudden movements could cause a build-up of fluids and her lungs could fill with blood." She motioned to the two E.M.T.'s who stood just outside the building. At her signal, they rushed into the room and pulled a gurney up to where Calleigh lay. "Now, be careful when you lift her," Alexx instructed. "We don't want to add more damage to her pre-existing injuries." The two men nodded in acknowledgement and leaned down to pick up Calleigh. When she was firmly in their grasps, they gently lifted her body up and onto the gurney; once she was safely strapped in, they rolled her outside the building, where a lone ambulance was parked, ready to take her to the hospital.

Alexx, Horatio, and Eric stood side-by-side, watching as their friend and partner was loaded into the vehicle.

"Alexx," Horatio said. "I need you at the hospital. The doctors need to know what happened, and I trust you to watch over her."

Alexx nodded, her face gentle. "I'll ride in the ambulance with her." She brushed her fingers against Horatio's arm. "Don't you worry about Calleigh, honey, I'll keep an eye on her." Then, her face hardened and she said, her voice filled with contempt, "Get them now, Horatio."

Horatio looked at his medical examiner; she cared for Calleigh like she was her own daughter—he could see it in her eyes—and, at that moment, he knew he couldn't let her down; he would catch Calleigh's assailants. "I'm on it." He saw Alexx's eyes soften at his words and she touched his arm, her fingers lingering for a few seconds before she turned and hopped into the ambulance with Calleigh. He and Eric stood together, watching the vehicle race away, both of them feeling the same feeling of despair… and hope. Hope that Calleigh, the woman they both knew and loved, though each loved her differently, would pull through this; they both had enormous trust in Alexx—she wouldn't give up on Calleigh, and, since she herself was a doctor, they were sure she wouldn't hesitate if the time came for her to take matters into her own hands.

"Eric." Horatio broke the silence; he shifted his stance and put on his infamous sunglasses.

"Yeah, H?"

"I need you and Mr. Wolfe to do a full search of the building for anything that could lead us to Calleigh's kidnappers. If you find something, call me; I'll be at the lab."

"Sure, H, I'll get Wolfe. What about Calleigh's clothes?"

"I'm already on it."

Eric nodded, then turned back to the disheveled building, pulling out his cell phone to make the call to Ryan. As soon as Eric was out of sight, Horatio whisked out his phone and dialed the number of the D.N.A. lab.

"Hello?" A female voice answered on the first ring; it was full of concern.

"Miss BoaVista."

"H." Natalia breathed a sigh of relief. "I heard about Calleigh; is she okay?"

"For now," Horatio said. "I'm on my way back to the lab. I need you to run a D.N.A. scan on Calleigh's clothes and on the skin collected from under her fingernails. We don't know who these men are, so run the samples through all the files we have stored on CODIS."

"Yeah, H, I can do that."

Horatio hung up, then walked to his Hummer. Whoever Calleigh's assailants were, they would be behind bars by sundown. And he was going to make sure of that.

*AT M.D.P.D.*

Natalia stood by the computer, her fingers drumming an incessant rhythm on the lab table. She had taken samples from Calleigh's clothing, as well as from the cigarette butt found at the scene; so far, none of the samples had shown up in CODIS.

"Did we get a hit?" A husky voice came from behind her.

Natalia jumped, startled, and spun around, only to find herself staring into the face of her boss. "Damn it, H, don't scare me like that! And no, not yet. I've been waiting for hours, though, so it should come up soon—"

She broke off, turning her full attention to the computer screen. Horatio, who had mumbled a quick apology, glanced at her sharply.

"Miss BoaVista? Did we get something?"

"Yeah, H, look."

Natalia turned the monitor so it was in Horatio's direct line of sight. "Seth McAdams," he read. "Priors for attempted rape…." He looked up at his C.S.I, whose face was a mixture of fear and anger.

"H." Her voice cracked. "You don't think—"

"No." Horatio said sharply. "Now, I'm going after this man; his partner is probably still with him. Call Eric—I think he's on his way to the hospital—and tell him we've found the guy. I'll take Frank with me."

Natalia nodded, then swallowed, her voice still strained as she responded. "Will do, H. Just, please, catch this guy. For Calleigh."

Horatio looked at her, taken aback. He hadn't realized just how close she and Calleigh were to each other; of course, he should have known they would become firm friends, especially when Calleigh was the first person to forgive Natalia for being the lab's "mole." He stared her straight in the eyes. "Done." Then, whisking out his sunglasses and sliding them onto his face, he turned and walked out of the lab, straight to his Hummer, straight to Calleigh's kidnappers.

*AT MIAMI-DADE GENERAL HOSPITAL*

"Stay with me, Calleigh, stay with me!" Alexx ran alongside the gurney as the E.M.T.'s rushed Calleigh through the hospital doors. She was still unconscious, but she was visibly getting worse; her lips were colorless, her face sallow, her breathing becoming more and more strained. As the gurney reached the E.R, doctors took over, lifting her body onto an operating table. One nurse fastened an I.V. into her hand while another was busy hooking her up to a variety of different machines; the monitors lit up—Calleigh was flatlining. Alexx was told to wait outside, but she refused; if the doctors needed her assistance, they would get it. She had promised Horatio that she would watch over Calleigh, and she had promised herself that she would do everything in her power to keep Calleigh alive—she was not planning to break her word.

"Hook her up to a breathing tube," a doctor shouted, as one of the nurses slid a large respiratory device down Calleigh's throat; it would keep her lungs from shutting down, allowing the hospital staff more time to try and save her. "And give her nitric oxide! We need to get the blood flow pumping through her alveoli!"

Alexx watched as a nurse fed nitric oxide through a tub; she glanced hopefully at the monitor, but the C.S.I. showed no change in heart rate.

"Doctor," Alexx shouted. "The paddles!"

The doctor nodded, grabbing two paddles and rubbing them together, waiting for the nurse's command…

"Clear!"

He pressed the paddles against Calleigh's chest; as the electricity shocked through them, her body jolted up. Then, the words Alexx was hoping for…

"We've got a pulse!"

There was a loud beeping noise as the monitor recognized a faint pulse in the still, apparently lifeless, body. Alexx grabbed Calleigh's cold, pale hand and brushed the damp strings of hair away from her sweaty face. "Calleigh? Calleigh, honey, can you hear me?" Alexx's eyes carefully scrutinized every inch of the C.S.I.'s face, looking for anything, any signs of life, of recognition, even of pain. Something, some form of consolation that Calleigh was well, that she was going to wake up…. Seeing nothing on her friend's face, Alexx turned away from Calleigh; she met the doctor's gaze with tears in her eyes. He lowered his head; it felt as if he was intruding into a private moment, and he didn't have the heart to tell her that Calleigh might never wake up. He cleared his throat.

"Doctor Woods, now that we have some evidence that Miss Duquesne is alive, we're going to have to stabilize her immediately."

Alexx nodded slowly. "Um, excuse me, I have to make a quick phone call…." She quickly side-stepped out of the room and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hit speed dial and listened for an answer…

"Hello?"

"Horatio."

"Alexx," the lieutenant breathed. "How is she?"

"Not well, baby, the doctors managed to get a pulse, but they're not sure if she's ever gonna wake up again—" She broke off, slumping down into a chair as tears slid down her cheeks in a rushing torrent. "H," she said between sobs, "w-what if, what if the doctors are r-right? H-how is t-the, the team supposed t-to work w-without, without Calleigh?"

On the other end of the line, having just walked into the lab, Horatio Caine, for the first time since he had watched Speed die in his arms, didn't know what to do, what to say. "Alexx...Alexx, I think the best thing for her now is to have someone she loves, someone she knows and trusts, standing by her bedside. We have to stick together and tell ourselves she'll be alright, otherwise, we won't be helping anyone. We have to be what Calleigh would want us to be: strong, fearless, and a family. Please, Alexx, stay with her, please, for her, for me, for all of us…."

Alexx nodded, swallowed back her sobs, and stood up. "Alright, Horatio…but I swear to God, if you don't find the people who did this to her…"

"Don't worry, Alexx, it's my number one priority right now." He glanced up to where Natalia was busy running the D.N.A. samples scavenged from the crime scene. "I think I'll go see if Miss BoaVista has made any progress…"

Alexx smiled faintly. "Of course, baby boy, do your job. I'll be waiting for the good news." She said her goodbyes and closed her phone, leaning back in her chair until her head was rested against the wall. She was so tired…all she had to do was close her eyes...—then all hell broke loose.

"AHHHHHHH!" She heard a piercing scream coming from the direction of Calleigh's room. Nurses and doctors could be heard frantically shouting out orders. Alexx bolted up and practically sprinted to the C.S.I.'s hospital room. What she came upon scared the hell out of her. Calleigh was jerking and thrashing in her bed, her eyes wide open and staring, her hands clenching the bed sheets as a group of doctors and nurses tried desperately to hold her down. Suddenly, there was a gurgling sound as gouts of blood bubbled up from her throat, causing her eyes to roll back into her head as she fought with her body to breathe.