At Desert Palms hospital …

He was barely aware when the paramedics burst through the doors of the emergency department.  Nick only wanted to escape the pain and his mind was trying to shut everything out.  So he decided he wanted to fade away, into oblivion.  But even unconsciousness wouldn't come.

The corner of Ballard and Moss …

"How bad is it Jim?" Grissom asked in a hushed tone.  "Is he …" his voice faltered and trailed off.

"No, he's not dead," Brass answered, voice faint.  "But it's bad."

"I'm sorry sir," one of the paramedics interrupted.  "We need to take him.  He'll be at the Desert Palms hospital."

"Gris," Lockwood began as they watched Brass be loaded into the waiting ambulance.  "Nick was shot in the abdomen and he lost a lot of blood."

"Did they get the shooters?" Warrick questioned angrily.

"They stopped two of the cars and are still in pursuit of the others.  They all split up after a few blocks.  One shooter was dumped, dead.  You guys can go be with Nick," Lockwood insisted softly.  "The day crew's been called in to process this."

"We'll take it until they show," Grissom insisted firmly.  "Then we'll pass it off."

Lockwood nodded, knowing better than to argue.  He headed off to take care of things.

Grissom looked to the other three.  "We'll do what we can, make sure it's taken care of right.  We want an airtight case against Nick's shooters."  He wanted to focus on the crime and the scene, and not the fact that someone they cared about was close to death.

Desert Palms hospital …

The doctors wheeled Nick into the operating room.  They'd anesthetized him soon after he came into the ER, he had never lost consciousness.  They had to work quickly to extract the bullet and stop the bleeding.  He'd already lost an alarming amount of blood and they feared he wouldn't survive on the OR table.  But there was no choice but to go forward the procedure.

The corner of Ballard and Moss …

Catherine looked up from the bullet casing she was bagging – she didn't want to think about how many there were – when the day shift arrived.  Normally the fact that they were having to hand over a case to Conrad Ecklie and his crew would aggravate her, but she wanted to get out of there and see Nick.  She wanted to know he was still breathing.

Grissom and the others gathered around the day shift and began to pass off the evidence they'd collected.  In quiet tones Grissom relayed his notes to Ecklie.

As the team turned to leave Ecklie's voice caused Grissom to pause.  "I'll keep you updated," he volunteered.  Grissom gave the man a weary nod and climbed into his Tahoe.

Desert Palms hospital …

Brass was seated in a wheelchair in the waiting room with Greg when they arrived.  Brass couldn't even muster his usual wry smile when he spotted them.  And Greg was eerily quiet. The captain had never stopped to think about how close they had all become as a team – and as family.

"Any word?" Warrick's voice broke on the words.

Greg shook his head sadly and opened his mouth to speak.  He had to clear his throat twice before forming the words.  "Not yet.  We've been here for over an hour."

Warrick angrily slugged the wall.  "I hate fuckin' waiting!"

Catherine dropped wearily into a chair.  "So do I.  But beating up on the wall isn't going to help."

"I just want to know how he is.  I want to find the bastards that shot him."

"We will," Grissom assured firmly.

"God, I wish I could be as sure as you!" Warrick snapped.

Brass wheeled himself over to Warrick.  "If you don't believe Gil, then believe me," his voice carried the usual quiet conviction.  "We'll get those goddamn punks.  Even if I have to hunt them down myself."

Before anyone could respond a nurse came up to the group.  "Captain Brass, I'm afraid you need to go back to your room.  You need some rest."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm waiting on news abou. . ."

The nurse cut him off.  "I realize that, but you've been shot yourself.  You need your meds and sleep."  She gave him a sympathetic look.  "Even if it's only an hour or two at this point.  And I promise to come get you when there's news."

She walked over to him and wheeled him out of the room.

Nick had no clue where he was.  He glanced around and could see desert stretching endlessly before and behind him.  It wasn't clear to him why he was there.  He was sure he was supposed to be on a case.  That much he knew.  But he didn't recall it being in the middle of the desert.

"What are you doing, Nicky?"

Nick knew that voice.  Puzzlement was written on his face when he turned to face Kristy Hopkins.

"You know, I'm not really sure."   It occurred to him that it was odd to see her.  "What are you doing here?"

She smiled.  "It's your subconscious, not mine.  And really, the desert?  Haven't you seen enough of that in your life?  Why not the Bahamas, or Jamaica?"

He had no clue what she was talking about, so he shrugged.  "It's familiar I guess."

Kristy nodded as if she understood.  He was glad, because he didn't.

"How have you been Nick?" she asked, voice soft and filled with affection.

"Good.  I've been good.  And you?"

"Dead."

"Right."  He looked down and kicked at the sand.  "Am I dead too?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

Nick looked up at her and shook his head.

"You were shot."  Her eyes were filled with sympathy.

He nodded as though he comprehended it all.  But he didn't.  Nothing about this whole weird scenario made sense to him.

Silence stretched on while Nick studied the landscape, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.  "So," he said finally.  "Am I dead?"

"No.  You're on the operating table as we speak."

"But I may not survive."

Kristy shrugged.  "I'm not a doctor.  But knowing you, you'll fight your way through."  She delivered a stunning, warm smile as she said it.

Nick couldn't help but return the smile.  "All this is really bizarre, you know."

"I know."

Warrick was stretched out on a couch in the solarium as they waited out the third hour of Nick's surgery.  He was trying to sleep, but couldn't.  All he could think about was finding the bastards that shot Nick and shoot them himself with his police issue firearm.

Surreptitiously he glanced about the room checking for the others.  Brass was still in his room resting.  Greg and Catherine had gone down to the cafeteria to grab some food.  Grissom was lightly snoring slouched over in a chair nearby.  And Sara was standing at the window staring out at nothing.

Warrick quickly and quietly rose to his feet and left the room.

He made his way across the hospital lobby and out the door.

***********************************************************************************************

AN:  Sorry guys.  I know it's been awhile since the last chapter.  I've just switched to night shift and I'm getting used to the schedule.  Plus I've been having mild writer's block.   *muttering*  Damn stupid plot bunny runs off and leaves me.  Dumb bastard.  *grumble*

Any way, hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things.

And thanks to everyone for all the great feedback!