(Not by fault about delays. Fanfiction Website was down ALL DAY Yesterady for Uploads) :-)


Nick did not know when back up was going to arrive. He knew every minute that passed meant that Michelle Wilson was in danger, and Bob Fulton was closer to getting away with his crimes. "I'm going after them," he called behind him.

Breathing hard from pulling the large man out of the pool, Warrick screamed, "Nick!... Damn it, wait!"

It was too late and his partner was off to look for the physical therapist. Warrick had a critically injured man and tried his best to attend to him. In his gut he knew that Nick was doing his job, following an armed suspect who was holding a hostage. However, Warrick was filled with fear. Bob Fulton was dangerous, Nick was in no shape to take that nut job on. The CSI didn't know how much longer it would be till help arrived, which would free him up to go find Nick and back him up.

Nick pushed open the door to the hallway carefully, and peeked his head around to check if it was clear to proceed. Neither Bob nor Michelle was in sight, and the CSI kept his back to the wall as he inched forward towards the next door. He listened for sounds of a struggle and heard muted voices from somewhere deeper within the building. Nick recalled the layout of the gym, conjured up the image in his head. It wasn't a massive place, and with an unwilling hostage in tow, the two could not have gotten far.

Nick forged ahead, turning the door knob in front of him just as Warrick had done earlier. He nudged it open with his toes, keeping his body protected from within the corridor. He got a glimpse of the pitbull-looking man already dragging the woman out of the room, the door shutting behind them. Nick only saw Bob Fulton's back, so he was hoping the suspect wasn't aware of the criminalists' pursuit. He heard Michelle Wilson's protests. It was obvious from the tone of her voice that she was trying to fend off the man.

Nick ran towards the next door, quickly growing weary of this cat and mouse game. He heard a yelp from inside and he twisted yet another doorknob, pushing the barrier forward with his foot. He peeked inside, recognizing the back entry of the weight room. Nick saw that Fulton was forcing Michelle to look at him, trying to calm her down. The fiery woman was having none of it, still screaming at him.

"I can't believe you shot Roger!... Bob... you bastard! After all that I've done for you!" Michelle's eyes flicked over and saw the criminalist enter. She headbutted her assailant, stunning him. Fulton's grip on her loosened, and she wiggled around and jabbed one of her fingers in his eye.

Fulton screamed in pain, letting the woman go while he pressed his left hand against his face. Michelle kneed him in the groin. She turned to run away; despite the pain, Fulton clawed at her madly, managing to snag the edge of her shirt. With a fistful of the garment, he pulled her back, grabbing the back of her neck once again.

Nick closed the distance between them, not having a clear shot with the two of them struggling.

"Let her go!" he commanded.

Fulton had blood trickling down his face. It was obvious he was having a hard time handling his furious hostage. Agitated, he flung the woman hard to his right. Michelle tried to stop her fall as she was hurled towards one of the weight machines. Her body slammed into one of the arm handles, her head connecting with part of the metal structure. She slumped to the ground.

Nick didn't have time to help her. Once Fulton released her, he charged at the CSI, knowing he was facing an armed opponent.

Nick's fingers began to squeeze the trigger, aiming point blank at the rushing suspect. Fulton tackled the criminalist, knocking them both to the ground. Nick had the wind knocked out of him, his own weapon lost in the tumble to the floor. Now the compact man was on top of him, his knees pressing down on the criminalist's chest. Nick had to get the heavier man off of him, fast. The pain to his already bruised body was excruciating and further aggravated his bad rib.

Fulton tried to punch him in the face, but Nick blocked the swing with his left arm. Then with all his might, Nick rolled over to his side, tipping the suspect over. He screamed from the effort, his worn-out body protesting this newest round of assault. The CSI managed to get to his hands and knees, struggling to take a breath and collect himself. Fulton scrambled to his feet first. Noting that the criminalist was still trying to get up, the infuriated man kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could.

Nick felt a foot connect hard into his side with a 'snap' propelling him onto his back. His vision exploded into gray around the edges, as he crumpled back to the ground, gasping for breath.

Fulton pulled out the gun he had stolen from Nick from the waistband of his pants. He glanced at Nick, who seemed unable to move. Fulton pressed his hand into his injured eye again with a curse. He glanced over to the unconscious figure of Michelle Wilson, and frowned.

"Look what you made me do!" he screamed at the CSI. He hobbled towards Nick, still reeling from the pain that the gym owner had afflicted on him. "All you bastards are all the same."

Fulton grabbed the front of Nick's jacket and yanked him up to his feet. Even though Nick was taller, Fulton used his greater upper body strength to hold him up. "I got a job at the gym after reading about it in the paper. I was in a position to learn that Roger was dealing steroids to his customers. I became just another paycheck to him."

Nick could barely focus on the suspect, trying with much difficulty to stay on his feet, ignoring the searing pain in his side, the roaring in his head. Fulton's breath was hot on his face.

"I became a friend. I joined their little clique. Even Bobby Boy could hang with all the other freaks. I played right up to their egos. I was someone they could turn to... all along they never expected what my true goal was." Fulton shook Nick slightly, just to see if the man was paying attention to him. Deciding that time was running out, Fulton flung the CSI towards a set of weights.

Nick could barely control his fall, his knee slamming against one of the sharp ends of the barbell painfully. Fulton stalked over to the fallen CSI. "Of course they never saw me coming... never knew what hit them. Kind of like with you that day in the physical therapy room." Fulton smirked, thinking back on the power he had that night.

Nick spotted one of the small hand weights sitting next to him. He propped himself up with his left hand, and made a grab for it with his right one.

Fulton loomed over the CSI, enjoying the moment. "Thanks to you, I was able to face that little fear of mine with Roger tonight. I got to see his expression when I shot him." Fulton smiled and pointed the gun at Nick's head. "Looks like I get to watch you die... twice."

Nick looked up into the mad man's eyes. "You forgot... one thing," he said in between ragged breaths.

Fulton looked confused. "What's that?"

"Bad knees," Nick said, slamming the small barbell into the side of Fulton's kneecap with all of his waning strength.

Fulton screamed and dropped the weapon as he fell to the ground. Nick used the bar bell end to jab it into Fulton's knee a second time, causing the man to curl up on his side. Fulton held onto his knee in a desperate attempt to quell the pain. With great difficulty Nick got to his feet, holding on to the small barbell. Fulton tried to drag himself and reach for his lost gun. Nick hobbled after him, his own left knee tingling with numbness. He saw the suspect reach for the weapon and with great effort, Nick hit the man in the back with the end of the free weight.

Nick screamed when his makeshift weapon impacted with Fulton's back. Pain shot down his arm, the muscles in his shoulder were abused past their limit. Fulton lay on his stomach gasping for breath after the powerful blow to his back. With his fight or flight response coursing through him, Nick limped past the injured suspect and he found his gun, not having the slightest clue where he had dropped his back up. Nick grabbed it with his left hand, not trusting the failing strength in his right one.

Beyond hurting, the CSI lowered himself on one of the weight benches, his gun trained on the unmoving physical therapist. Hearing Michelle groan, Nick stole a glance in her direction, relieved she was awake. She was holding her head gingerly, but it was obvious she wasn't fully aware of her surroundings.

Fulton struggled to get up, but didn't seem like he was able to get mobile. With the force that the CSI hit him with, it would not be surprising if he had cracked vertebrae. Nick was breathing fast and shallowly, with each heave of his chest sending an explosion of fire down his side. The room was spinning uncontrollably and his body was shaking.

Fulton remained sprawled on the ground. He was barely able to move his head. "They all had it coming," he wheezed.

"You deal... with the cruelty... of school... as a part... of growing up...then you ...get ...past ..it." Nick panted, staring at the man without sympathy.

The criminalist heard a commotion outside the door and watched as Jim Brass stormed in, two other officers close behind him.

Brass stopped in the middle of the room, taking in the scene before him. He raised his hand in the air. "All clear." He then turned to a blond headed officer. "Cuff that man," he said, pointing to Bob Fulton.

The two officers handcuffed Fulton, pulling him upright. He screamed about his back and knee, but the uniforms dragged him into the hallway. Warrick, Catherine and Grissom frantically entered the room. The trio looked at Nick with worry before Catherine went over to Michelle, who was looking around in a daze.

The Captain got on his radio. "This is Brass, go ahead and escort another EMT team in here, please." His gaze traveled between Michelle Wilson and Nick. "You'd better make that two teams," he amended at Grissom's worried look shot in his direction.

Grissom and Warrick were flanking Nick. Grissom relived the CSI of his weapon and took in his haggard appearance.

Catherine talked to Michelle, making sure the other woman was not seriously hurt. The gym owner fretted over the attention. "How's Roger?"

Catherine tried to calm the woman down. "He's on his way to Desert Palms. You'll see him when you go over there to get checked out."

Warrick looked over his friend. "Man, you look like Hell."

Nick slid himself to the floor, trying to use the side of the workout bench to lean his back on. He held his left arm around his chest; his right arm rested limply in his lap, not daring to jostle it around too much. "Sikes' alive?"

Warrick shook his head. Nick was certainly a piece of work, he mused. "He's got a good sized hole in his leg. I'd say if we didn't get to him when we did, we'd be processing a whole new scene."

Grissom looked at both of his men, and over at Catherine who had wandered over. "You two have a lot of explaining to do about tonight."

Warrick frowned, he knew that he and Nick were both in the doghouse. Catherine Willows crossed her arms in front of her chest, a very displeased look on her face. Both she and Grissom looked like two pissed off set of parents just waiting to reprimand two disorderly children.

One set of medics entered the room, and after assessing Michelle, escorted the woman under her own power to an awaiting ambulance outside. Brass stood away in the corner of the room, not really wanting to add to the tension that hung in the room.

Grissom took off his glasses and rubbed his face. Nick was putting up a good front by trying to cover up the pain he was in. Grissom turned his head towards the Detective. "Where are those other medics?"

"I'll go see what's taking them. I don't think they were prepared for three patients," he grumbled as he strode out the door.

Nick didn't like being such a strong object of attention. "I'll just ride with someone to the ER, okay?"

Warrick huffed. "Nick man, I don't even think you can stand up right about now. So, why don't you keep your ass on the floor, and let the nice EMT's give you a private ride to the hospital."

Nick decided it was time to close his eyes and ignore everyone in the room. He knew he'd be treated to the third degree soon enough. He wondered how many B&E's he'd have to pull when he came back to work after all this. He didn't even want to think about it, so he slowly succumbed to the darkness that had been threatening.

TBC...


Author's notes: What can I say, its wrapping up. One last chapter to go. Really hoped everyone enjoyed the last twist and turn of the roller coaster ride. I would have posted earlier, but there was something about sever issues from the website.

Special note: Thanks to everyone who responded to "Another Night In Paradise," that was a one shot inspired by "4x4'. I could not resist. However, don't expect any romance stories from me, I'm strictly an angst woman. It was fun to write and I hope perceived as something gentle.

Staresp4cat:

Here you go my friend. We'll see what the results of this whole ordeal will be here shortly.

Aunty Pasta:

Sorry for the delay, but hope you liked!

PL Wynter:

Check out my newest one shot, I think you'll enjoy it.

Designation:

Did this one make you squirm as much?

Brandy Layne:

I've been cursed at! Here you go! Enjoy.

Tanquay:

I could not have all this lovely angst and action if Warrick was able to keep Nick from acting so recklessly. :-)

csifan:

Hehe, poor Nick he couldn't get out unscaved. Of course he got the bad guy in the end, but I wanted it to be realistic. Hoped you liked the confrontation!

A.Remains:

Hope you didn't hurt yourself in that fall. I like evil, yes I do!

roozy:

My like minded buddy, hope you had some valium after this chapter. One last dose of angst!

mudhousejunkie:

I hope this wasn't too long, had a long weekend. Thanks for being such a wonderful supporter!

Charmboy:

Here ya go! Hoped the suspense wasn't too much!

witchsword:

I'd never kill any of my favorite CSIs! Well...Nick's heart did stop..so I guess I all ready broke my rule. :-)

groban:

Hmm, you may be correct, Madame! Glad to see you're liking this so much. It was a pleasure writing.