Disclaimer: I own nothing, it's all the property of Anthony Zuiker and CBS.

AN: ok, well as you may have noticed, 'Catch me if I fall' is no longer on the site. The site moderators removed it because it was unsuitably rated, so if anyone was shocked or horrified by it I apologise. I don't think I'm going to repost it, as I'm worried about it being removed again and then having my account removed as well. If anyone knows somewhere that will host it, please tell me, otherwise I'm willing to send people a copy, email me at whiterose01 at hotmail dot com and ill send you it ASAP. I was never really sure where this fic was going to go, but now I do. It's going to have two endings, as I couldn't just choose the one. Consider this chapter 13 of CMIIF, the last chapter before it splits into CMIIF: fallen and CMIIF: caught. Thank you for all your reviews of CMIIF, they are all saved in my email account, and keep me going when I question whether to keep on writing. I hope you enjoy chapter 13 (after wading through an AN that's almost as long!) and as always, reviews are gratefully received.

Chapter 13

The assembled throng of law enforcement officers froze at the sound of the gunshots.

"No…" whispered Nick incredulously. He shook his head, unwilling to believe that they had heard the sounds of Greg's death, unwilling to accept that they might be just minutes too late.

He was not the only person affected; Catherine was being supported by Warrick, a look of shock and disbelief on both of their faces. Sara had her hands covering her face, and even Grissom was showing emotion. Brass's eyes took on a haunted look, despite his wisecracks; he genuinely liked the young lab tech.

"Guys, c'mon, we need to get in there, NOW!" he barked.

The five CSIs automatically obeyed the order, too shocked to do anything else. They trailed behind the SWAT team and the detective, gradually becoming more focused on the task at hand.

It seemed like a lifetime to Nick until they finally the supposed site of Smiths hideout, when it had only been about a minute. The SWAT guys were ready to go in and were waiting for Brass to give the order.

"NOW!"

There was a crash as the door was kicked in, followed by running steps as the SWAT team quickly cleared the scene. And finally they could enter. The five CSIs paused on the edge of the room; each of them stunned by what lay in front of them. Of all the crime scenes they had been to, this was the worst. They were all used to dealing with messy crime scenes, but when it was someone you knew well involved, then it became a whole different ball game.

The first thing they noticed was the blood. There were two figures lying in pools of blood. The first was Smith, staring at the ceiling with sightless eyes, and missing half his head. In the centre of the room there was a massive pool of blood in the middle of some plastic sheeting. And on that sheeting was –

"GREG?" cried Nick.

He let out a strangled cry, which was echoed by Catherine and Sara, as he ran forwards. He carefully rolled and picked up a limp figure that was battered and bloodied beyond almost all recognition. There was a collective gasp as the full extents of Greg's injuries were revealed. As a final parting gift, Smith had carved a heart into Greg's chest. Blood was pouring from the injury and also from a deep stab wound in his abdomen.

Nick was repulsed. It was beyond him how anyone could do something like that, especially to someone like Greg. His repulsion grew stronger as he picked up one of Greg's hands. He could clearly see the incision, and knew that Smith had completely sliced Greg's tendons. Nick shuddered and looked up at the other CSIs.

They looked sickened, but immediately moved to help. Warrick started applying pressure to Greg's chest and abdomen, while Sara elevated Greg's wrists in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

Nick then turned his attention back to Greg's face.

"Greg? Greg! C'mon man, don't do this to us!"

There was no response.

"Greg, please…"

Nick pressed his fingers to Greg's neck, willing there to be signs of life. His efforts were rewarded when he felt a weak, thready pulse. Nick eyes brimmed as he nodded to the surrounding CSIs who let out sighs of relief. All their eyes immediately flew back to the figure as it let out a soft groan.

"Nick?" he questioned weakly between laboured breaths.

"Greg, hey I'm here, man. Listen you gotta hold on" urged Nick, tears rolling down his face. "Can you open your eyes?"

Greg's eyelids slowly fluttered open, causing Nick to give a violent exclamation of shock and horror.

Instead of Greg's usual chocolate brown eyes, there were two demonic, red orbs staring back at him.

There was a horrified gasp behind him, along with muttered curses as the other occupants of the room saw Greg's eyes. Amid her horror, Sara was furious. She knew what it took to burst the vessels in someone's eye, and she wouldn't have wished it on anyone, least of all Greg. She looked down at Greg, taking in the burns, the cuts, and the bruises, and ached with pity for him.

Greg saw the pity in her eyes and looked away, tears sliding down his cheeks. He shifted slightly and immediately regretted it as pain wracked his body, causing his vision to blur.

Nick saw the agony on his face, and started to gently stroke Greg's blood matted hair.

"Its ok, we're here. You're gonna be ok, just hang on."

Nick looked round at the other CSIs and saw the doubt in their faces. Greg was very seriously injured. If he did survive, he would bear both the physical and the mental scars of his experience forever.

A wracking cough shook Greg's body, and Nick squeezed his eyes shut as blood bubbled out of Greg's mouth. He refused to believe that they were too late, refused to believe that Greg was going to die.

Fate couldn't be that cruel.

Could it?