...I know. I should finish my first CSI story (or my psych one for that matter) but i got inspiration for this one. I feel terrible but i promise I'll finish the other ones...eventually. Thanks for reading. :)

Disclaimer: own nothing of CSI. sadly.

Authors Note: This has nothing to do with my first CSI story. It was just a thought bubble that came to me yesterday and it just sort of built itself. Love it when that happens. It makes it so much easier for me. :P Also, I had to used WordPad to type this up so my editing is not so impressive. I went over it myself a couple hundred times but i guarantee you will find a mistake here and there. Sorry :(


They got the call two hours ago and they still weren't done packing. Theresa and Marley Steidbaker were reluctant to move away from their home. They had raised their son Jeff there for six years- taught him how to ride a bike on the sidewalk out front, healed his fractured arm after he slipped on the bottom stair, and celebrated his 12th birthday only just a month ago. However, they could not stay in plain site. He was sure to come. And soon. The fear for their sons life far out reached the nostalgia they had for their home.

Theresa had already packed her sons belongings and began to help her husband pack their clothes next. That's when they heard a crash. They were too late. Theresa left the bedroom and ran to find her son, shaking all over. As she was running down the stairs she heard a shot and stopped where she was. She was too late. Tears fell from her face as she realized that she could no longer hold her son. Around the corner, two men were walking towards her. Barely able to see, she stumbled up the stairs and ran into her husbands arms. They locked the bedroom door and tried to go out the window.

The steps in the hallway got louder. Marley shoved the window open and held it up as his wife tried to climb out. He looked over at the door urging with his mind to stay closed. His wife was shaking so much she couldn't keep her balance to go over the sill.

"Theresa, look at me," whispered Marley. She slowly turned around. Thats when he realized he did not know what to say and decided to close the silence with a kiss. They broke apart and looked into each others eyes knowing this was possibly the end.

She began to climb back out onto the sill and sat on the edge. Marley looked over at the door again. There was a shadow creeping underneath the door. Theresa looked over her shoulder at the door as well.

"Marley I can't leave you!" cried Theresa.

"You have too! I... I will meet up with you later. Our place. I promise," he said. She knew in his voice that he had no plans to keep that promise.

Just then, the door slammed open and a shot rang throughout the house, the sound reverberated it's haunted message of death.

15 minutes later a piercing scream awoke the neighbor three doors down. Unsure of what she heard, she sat up and listened closely. POW


Nick and Greg arrived to a newer two story off-white house. It looked just like any suburb home- complete with gossip. The family had arrived suspiciously six years ago, according to the neighbors, and was rarely seen. Even their child was home schooled. After two years of constant invitation declines they gave up on trying to know them and decided to make it up themselves. They were going to do that anyways.

Nick and Greg pulled the tape over their head and walked up to Brass.

"Triple homicide. Neighbor woke up when she heard someone screaming and a shot. Mom was found outside on the concrete, one shot to the back. The dad was found in the bedroom. He's the messiest. The son was found in the living room- one shot to the head. They don't have any relatives but the husband has an ex-wife. She's talking to Officer Thomas over there," Brass pointed behind the tape at a tall dark haired woman with sharp green eyes and a hangover to boot. "We are going to take her to the station for questions. Davids with the dad right now."

"Thanks Brass," said Nick. Brass nodded and walked back to the officer. The neighbors, having seen the cop cars, swarmed like vultures as they tried to once again fill their average lives with excitement. So much in fact that Brass had to push them all back as they each tried to see what was happening. Nick looked behind and laughed dispite himself. People were so predictable sometimes.

"Hey Greg, why don't you process the mom and I will take the dad," suggested Nick.

"Sure," said Greg and they set off in different directions. Nick climbed the stairs and began pre-searching the area for any obvious clues. Then looked around for the parents bedroom.

"Hey Super Dave, ooooo," Nick winced seeing the blood surrounding the man on the bed. David was kneeling next to the man and pulling out the needle from his liver.

"Yeah, this guy was definantly alive when his finger was clipped off. Time of death is approximately 3 hours ago, same as the others. COD is a gunshot to the heart. If you look at his right fist you will see a significant amount of bruising and teeth impressions. You might get saliva." Dave carefully got up to make sure he didn't step in the evidence.

"Thanks," said Nick and he got to work. He took pictures of the body and surrounding areas. Then he began looking around the room. He first noticed that the door had been broken around the lock. He processed the door handle and moved on to the window. He looked out and saw the wife positioned at an odd angle on the concrete and Greg taking photographs. He looked at the top of the window and saw a fiber stuck in between the wood and glass panel. He put it ina small manilla envelope and put it in his vest pocket. He looked around the room, theorizing in his mind how the night had previously gone.

The couple was escaping upstairs. Killer busts through the door and shoots the wife. She falls out of the window and dies instantly. The dad, outraged, springs at his attacker and punches him in the face. The killer pushes him onto to the bed and hold him down while he chops the finger off. Then as the killer leaves he turns around and shoots the man in the chest.

Satisfied with his conclusion, he moved over to the dresser and began to look for motive.

Meanwhile, Greg had finished processing the woman and began searching around the outside of the house for clues. He looked over to the left of the house and saw boot prints going towards the back gate. He walked over and snapped some pictures of the shoe impression in the dirt and followed the boots to the gate. He saw that the latch had been busted off and deduced that this was probably the point of entry and exit. He opened the gate and looked at the ground to see that the bootprints led off to the right. Greg looked over his shoulder, contemplating bringing an officer with him. However, both the officers and Brass were trying to contain the nosy neighbors and News stations as well as control the Ex-wife, who had began to show off her dance moves she had used to grab her ex husbands attention. Greg smiled and decided he would be fine and left the scene. He followed the boot prints until they had completly faded away, then began to look around the alley. He thought that perhaps the killer had disposed of the weapon on his escape out.

He was now about 100 feet away from the scene when he noticed a tooth lying next to a trash can. He took a picture of its position and looked over his shoulder. It was possible that this tooth had come from the killer. He leaned over and bagged the tooth and placed it into his vest pocket.

He didn't see him. Didn't feel the presence that had lurked around the corner watching silently. Didn't notice the shadow that had been casted behind him. Not until it was too late. As Greg got up, he turned around only to be face to face with a dark figure and immediantly knocked back to the ground with a single blow to the side of his head. Everything went black.

The figure kneeled down and undid Gregs vest. Another figure held up his arms as they slipped the unconcious investigator out of his only protection. The figure was about to leave with his friend when he had a sudden change of mind. He glanced down at the still man and realized an oppurtunity he had not had in 10 years. He looked around him for prying eyes and leaned next to the mans face. He kissed the strangers neck and felt a sensation he had not felt in a long time.

Gregs slowly came back from dark. His first sensation was his pounding head. His second sensation scared him more. A hot breath was pressed against the left side of his neck. He was not sure of what was happening to him but he wanted it to stop. He opened his eyes and remembered why he was lying on the ground in the first place. Everything was blurry, his vision was swimming around and the lights never seemed more intense. He tried to move his arms but the message from his brain to his arms never reached it's target. He was stuck beneath this shadow. Though he could feel everything, his mind was not fully registering what was happening to him.

The figure looked down at the man he had found. Pleasure seeped through his very veins as he felt the curves of the mans stomach, seen the soft heaving as he breathed, and tasted his gentle neck. He ripped off the mans blue plaid button up shirt to get a better look only to be blocked by a white undershirt. He smiled at himself. It felt like the man was teasing him. Meanwhile the second figure kept watch but insisted that they should get out of there now. The shadow ignored his advice and continued to memorize every curve of the man below him. Just as he was unbuttoning his pants they heard a shout down the alley.

"damn it!" he whispered. He looked down disappointedly noticing for the first time that the mans eyes were wide open but still out of it. He smirked to himself and leaned in next to Gregs ear.

"Until next time," the shadow said and kissed his ear. He pushed off his knees and took off running with his partner as the shouting got louder.

"Greg?" shouted Nick. He was getting worried but he knew it wouldn't be the first time that Greg had followed the evidence away from the scene. He looked down the alley and noticed a figure lying on the ground. Panicking, he ran to it only to hatefully admit that his worry was fitting. He found Greg dazed with a swelling temple. He called into his radio for backup and medics.

"Greg are you okay?" asked Nick as he helped Greg lean up against the wall. Greg slowly nodded his head, able to finally comprehend that he did in fact exist and was no longer in the black. Nick looked around to see that the paramedics were running towards them.

"Which way did he go?" asked Nick , fully raged and ready to shoot someone. Greg nodded his head to the left and Nick took off running. Greg looked down to see that his shirt was unbuttoned. Funny he thought. He was sure he had buttoned them earlier. then he looked down and saw that his pants were unbuttoned as well. Thats when it hit him. Figure on top, the hot breath against his neck, the hands against his body- it all hit him at once. He began to panic. He heard the men running to his aid and quickly made up his mind. He buttoned his pants and his shirt quickly to hide any evidence that he might have been- he couldn't even bring himself to say the word. Brass came running up next to Greg.

"you okay?" Asked Brass a little out of breath. His body was not what it used to be. Greg nodded once more trying to mask the growing hysteria.

"Where'd Nick go?" Greg pointed towards his left. Brass motioned to an officer and they ran in that direction. Greg just stared at the wall opposite him as the paramedics looked at his wounds. As soon as they touched him however he flinched and pushed them away.

"Don't touch me!" Greg shouted. He looked at their startled faces. "I-I'm fine really. I just need to go lie down somewhere." The paramedics looked at each other.

"Mr. Sanders we need you to come with us. Can You walk?" Greg stood up slowly finally realizing just how dizzy he was. He almost fell back to the ground but was supported by one of their hands. He looked down at the hand, his heart pounding, and convinced himself to allow them to help them. Reluctantly he went with them, trying to stay as normal as possible but the ramifications of the maybe-attack dug deeper than he thought. Now all he had to do was convince himself that nothing happened. This was one of those days that he wished he could ignore the details.


About an hour later Greg was sitting on the back of the ambulance with a blanket over his shoulders and an ice pack against the side of his head. Sara walked up to him and gave him a hug. Greg winced.

"Easy there Sara," said Greg. She let go of him and examined his wounds.

"What were you thinking?" she said frowning. Greg came into focus and looked hard at Sara, trying to concentrate on her face. His mind was still swarming with questions though, and it was increasingly hard to pay attention.

"I..uhh," he blinked a couple times trying to remember why he had gone in the alley in the first place. "i was following boot prints." Something that seemed so simple he thought.

"Greg, you know you are supposed to bring an officer with you if you leave the scene. It's protocol. It's how we prevent things like this from happening. You could have been killed." Greg looked at her expecting to see anger in her face but only saw fear and worry. He smiled at her to ease her nerves though inside he had nothing to smile about.

"They were busy and I didn't think the killer would come back. By the way, I think it's safe to assume I did not, in fact, inherit my Grandmothers third eye,"smiled Greg. Sara smiled back.

"I'm glad you are okay," she said as Nick walked up next to her.

"He got away but we got officers searching every crevice in the neighborhood for him. We're pretty sure it was the killer. They took all the evidence that Greg had on him and deleted the photos he had on the camera which they threw across the alley." said Nick as he glanced at Greg.

"I was here to check on Greg but I brought my gear to help with the scene."said Sara

"Thanks. Could you process Greg and the alley? I didn't get to finish the house," said Nick. Sara Nodded. "Hey Greg, how you holding up?"

Greg looked up at him. "Peachy," he said sarcastically and stared at the ground again. Nick smiled at him sadly but noticed that his shirt was buttoned in the wrong spots. He walked away puzzled but didn't say anything. It might just be his imagination. He was, afterall, in a state of stress at the time so it was possible that his shirt had been buttoned that way the entire time.

Sara began processing Greg as Brass came over to find out what had happened.

"Hey Greg how do you feel?" asked Brass concerned.

"Just grand," he said wincing as Sara prodded his bruised head with a swab.

"Sorry," she said. "You are going to have to remove your clothes when we get to the lab." Greg nodded, knowing the procedure.

"So Greg, can you tell me what happened?" asked Brass. Greg sighed and closed his eyes to concentrate.

"I was following boot prints. You and the other officers were busy and I didn't think there was any danger so i followed them into the alley. I uhh, found something i think, i don't quite remeber what it was but it was small. I placed it into my vest and stood up. Then there was just a sharp pain and total blackness. The next thing i know theres a shadow over me and it-" Greg hesitated as he debated whether or not to tell them about the breath against his neck. Brass and Sara looked at each other concerned. They knew the difference between stalling and a lapse in memory. Greg was thinking about lying to them. "He whispered in my ear something, I don't remember and ran off. Then Nick came up to me and you know the rest." Sara finished with the scrapings under his nails and put her stuff back in her container.

"Thanks Greg. If you remember anything else let me know and take it easy. You are lucky to be alive." Brass smiled at him and walked away. Greg looked curiously at Brass wondering just how lucky he really was.

"You going to be okay here by yourself? not going to go chasing shoe prints again?" asked Sara. Greg looked at her but didn't return her smile. She patted him on the shoulder and went to the alley.

Greg sighed and pulled the ice pack off his head. Should he have told them that he thought he might have been- The word was like poison on his tongue. No, had he told them they would have done an SAE kit on him and he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to that question. He couldn't handle it. No one would treat him the same ever again and he had already gone through that after the Demetrius James incident. It was best if no one knew he decided. He wished he didn't know.


Sara looked around the alley for evidence. She wanted to catch this psycho before he killed someone else. She knew how lucky Greg was to be alive. Most likely the attacker was the same killer from the triple homicide and he clearly had no problem killing children. She could only imagine what could have happened to Greg; though she desperately tried to keep her mind from going there.

She photographed the area where Greg was attacked and searched for any trace of either Greg or his attacker but nothing was standing out. She sighed and moved on to the other side. That's when she looked down and saw what looked like a button from Gregs shirt lying on the ground. She photographed it and picked it up, staring at it, willing it to explain how it got there. But it was just a button not a suspect. She placed it in a bag more upset then ever. She didn't want to find questions; she wanted to find answers.

Later that day, Greg had gone to the lab and handed over his clothes after changing into his spares in his locker. A nice bruise was beginning to show on his right cheek where he collided with the pavement. He knew this was going to happen despite the bruise but the stares hurt nontheless. He was now sitting in the locker room feeling numb. All the energy he had earlier, despite the already low amount, had completely vaporized. He didn't even have the energy to think.

"How you doing Greg?" asked D.B, startling Greg from his reverie. He looked over to the elder man and mustered up invisible energy to speak.

"Fine," he said simply and began to stare once more into his locker. D.B came over and sat next to Greg.

"I'm glad you are okay. I was told that your evidence was taken. I assume everyone believes the killer came back?" Greg nodded. He really didn't want to talk right now. "Then you are quite the lucky one Greg. The man had no problem killing a child for petes sake I'm sure he would have had no problem killing you." Greg looked over at him confused. Was this D.B's way of trying to console him? "Oh, I don't mean you wouldn't put up a fight just that morally he wouldn't have a problem."

"Greg!" smiled Morgan relief flooded her face but instantly turned it into a professional manner. She stood awkwardly in the door. "Glad you're okay. I'd hate for you to die before you could pay me back." She cleared her throat and walked away. D.B smiled at Greg who had a puzzled expression on his face.

"i like her," he said and walked away, leaving greg alone once more. As he stared at the contents of his locker agains a strange sensation crept over him. A memory. He closed his eyes to concentrate when he felt the words penetrate his very core-

Until next time.

Greg shuddered. This wasn't over.


More to come! I have the general story completely planned out (which is a step up from my other which i am completely making up, one chapter at a time.) and i plan to have it all typed up soon. Well, we will see how that goes :P

Thanks for reading!