a/n: another short chapter, but I think we all need a slight breather. I'm writing still, and will have something up soon for the only two people who seem to be reading this. ;o) Not that I'm bitter about that. Thanks for the reviews!

Fire Bomb

The flames quickly traveled around the room, following the accelerant wherever possible. Nick looked around himself, trying to stay clear of the paths of gasoline.

Suddenly his eyes stopped on something.

My phone! It lay on the carpet, amid glass and the remnants of the TV. Nick inched his way to it. His hands were still behind him, and he had no idea how he would call, but he didn't want to focus on that yet.

Something shattered, a lamp, as heat devoured it. Nick swallowed and hurried his weary body to the phone.

It was wet, no doubt from gasoline, but Nick prayed it would still work—before the flames reached him and the phone. He nudged the phone with his face, trying to tap out 9-1-1. Instead he got 9 and the call was activated.

Warrick's number was stored in his phone as #9. Nick coughed at the smoke growing in his home, and put his ear close to the phone.

"Hello," he heard his friend say.

"Warrick!" Nick shouted above the noise of the fire. "I'm trapped inside my house. There's fire!"

He could have been a little clearer on everything, but he faintly heard Warrick say something back.

It was cut off by a small explosion in his kitchen. Nick tucked his head down as the noise and force of the explosion rattled his house. A bit of debris fell by him.

Nick coughed again. Pain spread through his chest, but he couldn't prevent the coughs. The smoke thickened each moment. And the fire spread. The orange flames licked at the walls, climbing up them and looking for more fuel.

"Warrick!" He didn't know if the call was still active or not, but desperation was setting in. The fire found a new puddle of gasoline, and it spread quickly towards Nick.

You have to get out of here. He didn't dare count on someone coming in time. Yet as he tried to move, he hoped someone would come quickly. His body just hurt too much.

Nick crawled, pulling himself along awkwardly with his shoulders and his bound feet. He tried to push with his hands behind him, but that hurt more because of the cuts on his fingers than it was worth.

Keep moving! If one flame managed to reach him or the fuel covering him . . .

Nick closed his eyes as he moved. It was his effort to shut out the pain and will himself further. The fire hadn't spread to the windows yet, and those were Nick's only options. His paths to the front and side doors were blocked by fire, and Nick wasn't about to crawl through that.

Suddenly a coughing fit hit Nick. The smoke tickled his throat and his lungs just protested with each breath. His ribs didn't like any of it, but Nick couldn't stop it. He heaved and felt his throat grating. He felt something moist pass through his lips as he coughed.

It was blood.

Not good, man. He fought to stop coughing but even as he breathed, he felt a damp rumble in his lungs. He tried to stop it . . . breathing hurt too . . .

He started to shut his eyes, and felt his body relax in the intense heat.

Wake up!!

Nick coughed again as his eyes shot open. Can't pass out. Nick put his mouth to his shoulder, trying to filter air through his shirt. It didn't work well.

He resumed his laborious pace to the windows. They were only feet away, and yet Nick didn't think he'd beat the fire.

The flames roared now. Nick was amazed at how loud a fire could be. His furniture cackled and popped as the heat destroyed it all.

He heard another crack, but felt a rush of air with it. Nick looked at the front door.

It was open, and in its burnt doorway was someone.

"Is anyone here?" he heard the person shout. It was a man, and hopefully a firefighter. Nick choked on his words, but managed to shout back.

"Yes!! Help me!"

It didn't come out nearly as loud as he wanted it to, but the man turned in Nick's direction. A flashlight beam managed to shine past the fire and onto Nick.

"He's alive!" the man yelled over his shoulder. He turned back to Nick, and the wall of fire and debris that lay in the way. "Hang on!"

Suddenly the ceiling caved in, not far from Nick. Dust and ash fluttered throughout the hot room, and Nick's body tensed.

His eyes zeroed in on the ash, praying it wouldn't have sparks that would turn him into a human fireball. He heard a hiss to his side, and the trail he'd made as he crawled suddenly ignited.

Nick screamed. He backed up as fast as he could, ignoring any protests his body made. His eyes watched the trail as it traveled as a flamed glow towards him.

Water suddenly rushed into the room, a strong stream that instantly drenched the trail of fire it aimed at. Nick looked up at the doorway, grateful for the fireman standing there. But he wasn't out of danger yet.

His house was on the brink of utter destruction. And the fire wasn't over yet. Nick kept looking around him, backing up closer to the windows for added safety.

Suddenly the window behind him shattered. Nick felt that rush of air being sucked in as the fire devoured the new life. Nick's heart skipped a beat as he saw the flames come towards the new source.

No no nonononononono—

"Sir!"

Nick looked up at the window to see an anxious fireman reaching for him. The man reached in and grabbed Nick by an arm, dragging him backwards towards the window.

He pulled him out, and Nick fought back the cries of pain he desperately wanted to release. Firemen weren't too gentle but then again, they did have flames chasing them.

Another fireman seemed to be there, and helped drag Nick out of the window until he was dropped on the ground. A groan escaped his lips.

The firemen seemed to do a double-take as they noted the restraints on his hands and feet.

"Well, I guess we know this was arson," one of the firemen muttered. The other one sniffed the air.

"He's covered in gasoline."

Nick started to nod, but just winced at the renewed pain in his body.

"Get the paramedics here!" one of the firemen yelled.

Warrick watched as the fireman broke through the front door. He wanted to go in after him, find Nick and get him out of there. But Warrick knew he couldn't. He knew Nick could be dead already.

"He's alive!"

Warrick nearly jumped at that. The firemen hustled to get Nick out. For some reason, they backed off the front entrance and circled the house. Warrick followed them, at a distance. He watched as they broke through a window.

And suddenly, he saw Nick. He breathed a sigh of relief as his friend emerged.

That relief was short-lived. Warrick could tell from where he stood that Nick was in bad shape.

"Warrick!"

Grissom trotted up to him.

"He's out," Warrick said. Grissom stood by his side and looked on as the firemen called for paramedics.

Grissom swore as he saw Nick's condition. It caught Warrick off-guard—he'd never heard his boss utter such an outburst before. But it was hard not to.

The first thing he saw was Nick's hands and feet. He was tied up. Warrick swallowed that information. It meant the nightmare wasn't over for Nick, still. Next, he saw blood and bruises.

The paramedics came to Nick's side and started to cut the bindings from his hands and feet.

"Come on," Grissom said, walking towards their friend. Warrick quickly followed.

They strained to hear what the paramedics were saying as they got closer, but the medics quickly gave Nick an oxygen mask. Nick coughed into it, turning on his side. And the two CSIs watching froze.

He was coughing up blood.

"—internal bleeding. We have to get him to the hospital, quickly." The paramedics strapped Nick to a stretcher. Grissom and Warrick charged ahead, helping to load their friend in the ambulance.

"Is he all right?" Grissom asked. The paramedics didn't answer, but Warrick saw one shake his head.

"Nick," Warrick said, "hang in there!"