Appreciation by SLynn
Summary: An art heist, an arsonist and a lot of angst. Takes place approximately four months after the end of 'Precious Things' This is the fifth in a series. Greg/Sara and Nick/OC
Spoilers: Up to 'Nesting Dolls'
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.
Notes: Thanks again Tripp3235, RivenSky and Grrlnorth! And everyone else for reading and reviewing.
Chapter 24: Into the Dark
Nick and Charlie watched as Sara and Greg went into the house through the front door.
Once inside Sara immediately shook her head at the smell.
"Charlie wasn't kidding," she commented. "Our firebug must have drenched this place in kerosene."
Greg nodded, he smelled it as well.
They both took a quick look around. To the right was a small living room where the only scorch marks visible were found. To the left a dining room was partitioned off by double doors. In the back of the house were the kitchen and a small family room that led to where the back porch stood and was also where the staircase was found.
"Okay," Sara said after their initial walkthrough, "do you want top or bottom?"
"Sara, I thought we weren't going to talk about sex at work."
Sara grinned at him and shook her head once more.
"I'll take upstairs," she said with a smile.
Greg laughed as he watched her head off towards the stairway before setting to work himself.
He began in the living room. It was the obvious spot since it was where the fire had been. Unfortunately, as obvious of a spot as it was, it still yielded very little in terms of evidence.
Greg found, photographed and bagged another bottle similar to the ones found at the other scenes near the burn marks, but other than that there wasn't much to the room.
He scraped samples of the burned wood for trace, hoping it would give them something, but not really optimistic. So far they'd come up empty in that department and after getting several more shots of the room he made his way across the foyer to the dining room.
The doors were stuck. The left appeared broken and unmovable, and after much maneuvering Greg managed to get the right one working and was able to get inside.
Greg began photographing the far side of the room, nearest the front windows, when he heard movement from the back of the house. Undisturbed; it was likely Sara or Nick. He continued back to the door as he stooped down to get a closer look at a few bottles left behind that were typical of what they had been finding.
He heard the approach of footsteps too light to be Nick's.
"You can't be done upstairs already," Greg said with a smile on his face.
Looking over his shoulder to what he assumed would be Sara, the smile faded. In the entrance way was a man he didn't recognize. Not a man, a teenager at best; a teenager who was close to his own height wearing mostly dark clothes.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Greg said, rising slowly to his feet after placing the camera on the floor. He had a horrible feeling he might need his hands free. "We're investigating a crime. You could be charged with criminal trespassing."
Greg had expected the kid to apologize or even give him some attitude before leaving, but he didn't. Instead the kid, moving much faster then Greg had been prepared for, slammed the door shut on him all while wearing an odd smile.
If Greg had been within three feet of the door, he might have had a chance to stop him, but seeing as he stood clear across the room, he didn't. Not at all. By the time Greg had raced across the room he had already heard it lock in place. Still, he tried it. Greg shook the door as hard as he could. Banged on it even, but to no avail.
His first thought was that he needed to let Sara and Nick know. Now. Reaching for his phone he dialed Sara first and got a busy signal. He redialed and got the same. Cursing and turning around the room looking for an alternate out, Greg was starting to get really worried.
The room had only one entrance, the locked one. It also had only two windows, one that faced the front of the house and one on the side, both barred. It was dawning on him that he was really trapped when he heard a new noise.
Greg knew this noise too. It was as familiar as the first, only much worse.
Stepping closer to the door once again Greg stood as close as he dared and looked down at the floor and saw smoke coming in. He felt his heart speed up as he knelt down and tentatively put a hand to the door. It was already hot to the touch.
Greg moved back quickly, unsure what to do.
He tried Sara again on the phone and after six rings hung up and dialed dispatch.
"Carrie," he said immediately, cutting off the woman on the other end before she could get through her typical greeting. "This is Sanders from the crime lab. I'm at one-one-nine-eight Hidden Canyon Road. We need fire trucks and police on scene now. The house is on fire and the perp is still on scene."
"How many? What's the description?"
"Just one that I saw," Greg said, pausing to catch his breath. "White male, about five foot ten. Light hair, probably blond. Young, not older then twenty."
"Where are you now?" she asked, her voice always calm and collected.
"I'm still inside," he said, moving back from the door and beginning to cough.
"Can you repeat that?"
"I'm still inside," he said as loud as he could. The smoke was getting thicker and he was struggling to get words out now. "I'm trying, but I can't get out."
"Oh God Greg," Carried returned, it was the most emotion he'd ever heard from her.
"Carrie. Tell them I think Sara's still inside too. Tell them to go for her first."
"Greg I…"
"Just do it," he said hanging up as coughs began to wrack his body.
The doors were beginning to warp now and he knew that the fire had to be huge. It had to be. The room was thick with smoke and he could hardly take in any air. His chest was restricting fast and Greg knew he was getting ready to have a major asthma attack. Of course, a major asthma attack was really the last thing to worry about. That might be a blessing. He might pass out entirely.
Greg pulled his shirt up over his mouth as a makeshift mask and went to the window. After fumbling with the latch which had been painted over several times, he finally got it undone and the window slid open but only a few inches.
And he felt exhausted.
Greg was going to open the second window as well but suddenly didn't have the energy. His lungs were screaming for oxygen and dark spots were beginning to swarm his vision.
He felt his legs wobble from the effort, the effort of standing, and reluctantly he slid to the floor beneath the window just as he heard the sirens approach. Greg watched the door now and saw that it was burning.
The fire was inside with him.
His vision grew dimmer and dimmer and at first he thought it was the smoke. He could barely take in any air now.
That's when he realized it wasn't just the smoke making the room so dark. Greg was getting his reluctant wish. He really was going to black out.
The next moments were hazy. Greg was in and out of consciousness. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the room, or out of it, when he thought he heard voices.
He tried to respond, but wasn't sure if he actually made any sound louder than a whisper.
The next thing he knew, Greg was no longer alone.
A man helped him to his feet and began to drag him towards the exit he wasn't aware they'd created by breaking down the door.
After that it was a complete blank until he felt himself being lowered to the ground.
He still heard the fire, but the air was so much cleaner and cooler that he knew without opening his eyes again that he was outside. Despite the clean, cool air, he still couldn't breathe.
That's when he felt hands on him. Two sets. At first they weren't speaking to him, only to each other. Moving to take his pulse, assess his wounds, elevate his legs and other things he could only sometimes hear or feel. He kept his eyes shut the entire time. It was easier to not panic, to just focus on taking in as much air as possible that way.
"Sir," the man on his right said, "I want you to nod if you can hear me. Don't try to speak. Do you understand?"
Greg nodded, tried to at least, but wasn't sure how much movement he had actually made.
Again the two men, he assumed they were paramedics, spoke to each other. Greg couldn't make out what they were saying even though they were right next to him, one on either side. He might have even drifted off again, he wasn't sure.
"We're going to inject you with adrenaline," the man to his right said again. "It'll help with your breathing. Then we'll be hooking you up to a mask and taking you to UMC to have your chest examined. Do you understand?"
Greg tried to let them know he did and thought that this time he was more successful.
He felt the needle and even though he'd been expecting it, still gasped. He knew now why they hadn't wanted him talking. Just that involuntary action alone was painful. His throat felt like it was burning.
Soon after he felt his heart racing and the mask was now in place.
Then there was movement. The man to his right was gone, he felt him leave, and Greg took the opportunity to try and open his eyes.
At first, that too burned, but after blinking several times he managed it.
It took a second to recognize that Nick and Charlie were nearby. Very near. Greg couldn't call out and catch their attention, but soon Nick turned to him and made it unnecessary.
That's when he tried to ask. Tried asking Nick about Sara. If he was safe, then she had to be too. She had to be.
Nick came over and knelt next to him, obviously not understanding. Not at first.
Greg saw the first flicker of recognition cross the other man's face and it gave him pause. Then Nick, without responding to his question, turned and looked back at the house, Greg knew.
Sara was still inside.
The only indication he really had of knowing he'd moved was that Greg soon found not only Nick's hand squarely on his shoulder, pushing hard to keep him still, but the paramedic still to his left doing the same.
Greg still couldn't speak. Didn't know if he'd have words to speak if he could. He felt nearly hysterical, the only time in his life he'd ever been that way.
This couldn't be happening.
Greg was vaguely aware that Nick, and now Charlie as well, were talking to him. Trying to calm him down, but it had no effect. He was trying to get back on his feet and toward the house. If Sara was inside he had to get her out. He had to.
The second paramedic was back now and Greg saw that he had a gurney.
Greg was sitting up at this time but, Nick still had a hand planted on his shoulder to keep him in place.
"They're inside Greg," he said to him. "They're inside and they're going to find her."
Greg shook his head at him, still staring at the house. His eyes wide, still terrified.
"Sir," the paramedic said leaning down now, "you need to go to the hospital."
Greg just shook his head and tried standing again but was still held down.
"Greg they need to check you out," Charlie tried as well.
"At least go to the ambulance," Nick added.
Greg finally looked from Charlie to Nick. He knew he had tears on his cheeks but didn't care.
"You don't have to leave," Nick continued and finally Greg nodded briskly.
The two of them helped him to his feet and they slowly made their way to the back of the waiting ambulance. The paramedic who had brought the gurney went with them as the other stayed behind to await the firefighters' return.
Sitting in the back, Greg continued to watch the house despite Charlie and Nick's combined efforts to block his view as much as possible.
The paramedic began to hook Greg up to various monitors now and as he did there was commotion on the lawn.
Greg just made out a figure in the doorway of the house carrying a person.
He moved to get a better look but could see very little.
"Sir," the paramedic chided, "you need to sit still."
This caught both Nick and Charlie's attention who had each turned around to see what was happening.
"Is it her?" Greg managed to ask, despite the burn to his throat.
It came out garbled and hoarse but was unmistakable.
Neither of the men answered him and Greg stretched to see over them just catching a glimpse of a figure on the ground with the paramedic who had remained behind leaning over them.
The next thing he knew Charlie was shaking his head and turning back toward him.
"No," he said loudly. "No, get him out of here. Get to UMC. Now."
Greg was nearly too shocked to respond but the paramedic inside did so immediately. Pushed back to his seat, Greg was buckled in as the man called to the driver to 'roll out'.
They were moving before he knew it, aware that he was yelling but unable to stop the progress.
Looking out the back window he saw Charlie and Nick watching the ambulance pull away. Nick was rubbing his face with both his hands and Charlie was back on his phone.
Behind them both he just caught sight of what Charlie had been trying to hide.
They'd already covered the body on the lawn.