The Body by SLynn

Disclaimer: The idea is mine; I stole the title from Stephen King and the characters from CSI. Go ahead, sue me.

Notes: life sucks, get use to it – thanks for the fix. I've edited it now. :)

Night Five

The road was seemingly endless. At least it was in Greg's mind. They'd been walking for most of the day and still hadn't reached anything resembling real pavement.

He was doing it over and over in his head. Calculating the distance. They'd walked six hours that day, average speed was two miles an hour, that put them around twelve miles and the dirt path was supposed to hit county road in ten. It wasn't right. They should be on it already.

Greg was so intent on doing the math, watching his feet as he walked, concentrating on just keeping one foot going in front of the next, he hadn't noticed Grissom had stopped. Greg practically plowed him over before he realized it.

"What?" Greg asked as he stumbled back a few steps.

But Grissom didn't speak. He didn't have to answer the question. Greg looked up and he knew 'what'.

"Where'd the road go?" Greg asked as if Grissom could possibly answer that. "Griss, the road. Where's the road?"

The fence they had walked beside had ended several miles back but the dirt road had gone on so they'd followed it assuming they were getting closer. It had gotten less and less even, but it had been there until now. Now, the road they had been following just petered out into what could only be described as a barren wasteland.

Grissom ignored the questions and put down the pack, digging through it until he found the map. Hastily unfolding it he reexamined his calculations.

"We went the wrong way."

"What?" Greg asked, turning from the sight before him to Grissom now eyes wide and disbelieving.

"We went the wrong way," Grissom repeated, handing him the map.

He'd assumed too much. Assumed that the direct they had wanted to go was the one they'd come from. They had no compass, no other guide other then the setting and rising sun which hadn't been seen for days due to cloud cover and rain. He had no excuse. Fatigue could be blamed, but Grissom wouldn't do that. He messed up pure and simple.

Greg took the map and stared down at it. It showed the roads end at the Dead Land Wash. It wasn't a name to inspire confidence, and using the key he quickly figured that it was at least twenty miles across to interstate five-fifteen.

Grissom sat down now, unsure what they should do. Either way, they were now at least twenty miles from a real traveled road. Greg joined him. He'd begun breathing through his mouth two hours ago, almost a pant. His lungs were now becoming strained for air and they both knew he wouldn't be walking for too much longer.

After twenty minutes of silence Greg stood up to begin looking for firewood. Grissom helped him and it wasn't long before they had one started.

Greg sat almost too close, still cold but now with reason. The temperature had dropped with the sunset and Grissom felt the chill now as well.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"No. Not for that," Greg answered.

The only food they had left was a candy bar. Greg was seriously doubting he'd ever want a Snickers bar again in his life. That was assuming they lived through this nightmare.

"Why don't you eat it," Greg offered, "I'd just get sick. My stomach feels sour."

Grissom politely shook his head. He was still determined to only eat if Greg did.

"Now if you had soup," Greg continued, "I'd say yes. Soup sounds good. It's warm. Something like tomato or egg drop. Egg drop soup with those crunchy noodles and green onions."

"Greg," Grissom cut him off.

"Not helping am I?"

Grissom shook his head beginning another long silence.

"I'm sorry about today."

"Honest mistake," Greg responded. "I've done it before. Everyone has. When I drove all my stuff out here from San Francisco I almost ended up in Utah."

Grissom smiled at him. It was unbelievable. The man could literally forgive anyone their mistakes.

"Utah is nice. Good skiing."

"You ski?" Greg asked now with real interest.

"Sometimes. I use too; I just don't really get the chance much anymore. Have you been?"

"Not since I was a teenager. We did a family vacation to Aspen one winter. A real family vacation, one I actually went on. I hated it. I don't really like snow. More of a summer sports kind of guy."

"The surfing and swimming."

"Hey, you do pay attention at the lab."

Grissom laughed and Greg did too, producing his first real fit of coughs since night had fallen.

It lasted longer then either of them would have cared for but Greg felt better afterwards.

"I think it might be clearing," Greg hazarded to say.

Grissom said nothing, not wanting to ruin his optimism. Greg laid back, arms behind his head looking up at the stars. The fire was now directly between them.

"Wow," Greg marveled. "I always forget how many there are."

"Didn't see much of them in the city I'm guessing," Grissom said, leaning back and looking up now too.

"No, not really."

For a time it was peaceful. Greg almost forgot he wasn't lost and in danger of dying and could just think of it as an extended camping trip.

"I wish I could remember the names. I took an astronomy class at Berkley but apart from the bigger dipper, it's all a blank."

"Ursa Major."

Greg sat up part ways and looked over at him with a blank stare.

"The big dipper is called Ursa Major."

Greg lay back down with a nod of his head.

"That star is Sirius. It's the easiest to find since it's the brightest. It's part of Canis Major."

"You really do know everything," Greg said sounding awed once more.

"Not everything Greg, I've just lived longer then you have. In twenty years…"

Grissom stopped speaking abruptly and both men sat straight up at the sound of brush moving nearby.

"Wind?" Greg whispered hopefully still looking in the direction of the noise.

Grissom was quietly, as quietly as he could, retrieving the flashlight from the backpack.

"Rabbit probably," he returned.

"Or a fox."

Grissom nodded before standing. They'd decided before leaving the house that morning that he should carry the gun, even though it was Greg's. It seemed safest that way since Greg's aim probably wasn't up to par given how sick he was. Now, switching on the beam to scan the area, Grissom also pulled the weapon off his belt. Greg was standing now as well.

After ten minutes or more of steady silence between them, both straining to see what might be past the light, Grissom put the gun away and sat back down.

"Whatever it was is gone now."

Greg nodded and hesitantly sat again.

"So tomorrow, what do you think," Grissom asked, "Should we head back up the road or keep going forward?"

"You're asking me?"

Grissom nodded. They were in this together it was time for him to stop making all the decisions for them.

"Well," Greg said, thinking as he spoke, "as unappealing as the spooky murder house is, honest? If we came across it again, or another like it, I'd board myself up in it and you'd have to drag me out kicking and screaming. So, heading back might not be such a good idea if we ever want to get out of here."

"Do you think you're up for a twenty mile walk?"

"We'll see," Greg answered, but he'd also shook his head.

"It's going to be a long day tomorrow, you should get some sleep."

"After that?" Greg asked incredulously, "You have got to be kidding. After that scare I don't think I'll ever need coffee again. I'll have these fond memories to look back on and keep me awake at night."

Grissom laughed at him, at how animated he'd suddenly become. Greg still had a lot of fight left in him. It was good to see. Reassuring.

"You should at least try."

"I will. Soon."

Grissom nodded and relaxed again.

"How do you like working in the field full time?" Grissom asked.

"Not much right now," Greg said, but his tone was light. It was an obvious joke.

"Seriously."

"Seriously, I like it. I do, but it's strange though. For awhile I felt like that guy, you know, from the Tom Hanks movie? Wait, you wouldn't know, you don't watch movies. Anyway, the guy without country. Stuck in limbo at the airport."

"The man without a land?"

"Exactly," Greg said as if it hadn't been a question. "Because I didn't really belong to the tech team any more and I wasn't really one of you guys either. You may not realize it but the techs are all close. We talk, hang out after shift. Kind of like the investigators all do."

Grissom nodded and waited for him to continue but Greg got a little lost in thought.

"I kind of miss that. You know, I can't remember the last time I sat and had a conversation with Bobby or Jacqui, with any of them. But I guess I don't really belong with them anymore. Don't have time."

"But you feel like you belong now don't you, with us?"

"Yeah, of course. It's great now." Greg said, but he didn't sound as sure as Grissom was use to hearing him. "Sometimes. It does get old being treated like a kid. I know I've never done much to stop the misconception, but it's not like I'm fresh out of college."

"I didn't realize."

"That's because I don't talk about it," Greg shrugged it off.

"I've never made you feel that way, have I?"

"No, it's not you. I don't know. It's not like it's anything specifically said or done, it's just an overall vibe I get. Probably all in my head."

The silence grew uneasy now. Stretched out between them.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep," Greg said before he turned away onto his side.

He mumbled something that sounded like goodnight and nothing else was said until morning.