Summary: A serial killer comes to town on the boy's night to work. Things don't go calmly for Nick or Warrick when the killer decided to not play nice.

Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.

Author's Note: A lot of people seem worried about Nick dying or something like that. Do I really seem like the kind of person to do such a thing...well, yet? Really am enjoying those reviews though. I am sure some of you understand what a great motivator they are, but I would like to say it again. Keep 'em coming! I don't want to break any rules by responding to any, but know I read them all and enjoy them. But yes, this chapter gets back to the lab for a view on the good 'ol case and...oh yeah...Nick and Warrick...something happens to them... :)

Breath for me

Written by: duffshel

#8

Gil sat staring off into space. His office chair was comfortable, but he really wasn't too aware of the cushioning anyways. The small flip cell phone was sitting next to his left hand where it rested on the desk. He had heard from every member of the team except for Nick and Warrick. Concern was building up, but he wasn't going to do anything quite yet. It was still early. They would call.

The bodies of all the girls had been released and given back to their families. Doc Robbins and Dave had done all they could with each. Everything was the same. Well, except for the latest girl, Miss Victor. She hadn't fought. There was nothing under her nails. And the sexual trauma was not forced. She went to this man without protest. He had still killed her and left nothing, but marks on her neck.

Catherine and Sara had been working on what the weapon was. The marks were too large to be standard rope. And it had to be something sturdy, so not a towel. Catherine suggested maybe some sort of belt. It had to be a fairly wide one from what the ridges told. And had to be real leather from the burn marks in some areas on the skin.

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose. So, the guy kidnapped them by drugging them with ether. He raped them or he didn't. From all the reports, there was no pattern on that one. It seemed to be random. Then, he strangled them with his belt while they fought and scratched him. Miss Victor was the only one who volunteered herself to the man out of all the girls. There were a lot of them.

"You know, hiding in your office brooding is not good for you health."

"Did you get anything new Catherine?"

The blonde woman smiled grimly as she took a seat in one of the chairs across from Grissom. She had just finished up things with Sara. They had nothing more. This guy was good. No one had any sort of I.D. on him. They had his DNA and blood, but that is nothing without the person to which it belongs.

"Nope. This one is trouble. Hear anything from the guys yet?"

"No. I have heard back from Brass though. He got a report from the airport car rental. They had a Ford returned two days ago. When they were cleaning it out today, they came across something interesting in the trunk. With the reports of the murders out there, they were kind enough to report it. I sent Greg out to meet him."

"Well, that is something then. Maybe whatever it is will help us out here. I am going to go get some coffee. You want some?"

Gil nodded and pushed himself from his chair, "Sure. I need to clear my head a little bit. Then I am calling Warrick to see where they are. I don't care if they think I don't trust them or not. Something isn't right here.'

The two senior CSI's walked quietly out of the office into the hallway. The entire lab seemed to be distressed and quiet. It was a bad omen.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

The bullet entered the night air with a crack. Nick had been fighting to stay on his feet. He didn't even register the sound until a sharp pain erupted in his upper right arm. The bullet took any gain the Texan had on winning his fight with gravity. He crumpled forward onto his hands and knees with a pain filled grunt.

Warrick watched helplessly as his partner fell. He couldn't tell where the bullet hit the Texan, but that didn't matter. All he knew now was this mad man had shot his brother and now he was really pissed. But he couldn't do anything at that moment. The gun had found its new target.

Ken smirked at the two, "Now, I hope there will be nothing more from you with being stupid. I wouldn't hesitate to put three bullets straight into the back of his head if you tried something else."

With a sigh, Warrick placed his hands out in front of himself in a passive gesture. He wasn't going to risk Nick's life. There would be another chance. Another chance where Warrick would break the other guy's neck.

"Now, it seems to me Nick, you have trouble staying on your feet. I would recommend that you find them and get onto them before I get mad."

Nick gathered up his strength and managed to get himself to his feet, but really couldn't seem to get his balance down. He wobbled slightly and reached out a hand to try to find something to help him out. His hand found something, but friendly was not a word anyone would have used for it.

"Now, now. You are a grown man. I am not going to help you," Ken pulled away from under the shaking hand of Nick.

"Come on man. What do you want with us? Leave Nick alone!"

Ken turned his attention away from Nick for a moment to look at Warrick. That man was the poster child for desperation right now. Sweat was beading up on his brow and his eyes were wide. It was amusing, but Ken wanted to get the hell out of that park. He had to get the men into the car.

"Alright. Enough of this bullshit. Warrick, if you would be so kind, please come over here. But walk slowly."

Warrick complied. He really didn't have a choice. The gun was trained on the back of Nick's head now. He made sure his steps were wide and slow. Once he was about a foot in front of Nick and Ken, the gun moved so he was forced to look down the barrel now.

"That is far enough tough guy. Now if you would be so kind, place your wrists together with you palms facing each other."

Ken watched with pure satisfaction as the man once again followed his instructions. Keeping the gun fixed forward, he reached behind him. Neither of the CSI's had noticed the roped coiled into his back pocket. There wasn't a lot of it, but enough to tie up one of the guys. He thrust it forward towards Nick.

"Take this Cowboy. I need ya to rustle me up a bull. Tie it nice and tight. If he can move, he gets a bullet in the knee."

Taking the rope into his own hands, Nick looked into Warrick's eyes. There was trust and hope found there. Nick just wished he could feel some of that. The rope was getting damp from his blood, but he still pulled it out and held it up. Warrick kept his writs together tightly and held his arms out. The Texan looped the rope around and pulled it as tight as he dared.

"Tighter. I want to see it indent his skin. The man is not to move."

Nick pulled it tighter still. He could see how the skin was pushed down under the rough cloth. Neither did he miss the wince that crossed the taller man's face for an instance. But Nick didn't risk making it lose. He tied it off.

"Good job. I see you take instructions well. So let's see if you two remember what I told you earlier about making our way to my car."

Ken stepped back and motioned for the other two to start walking. Warrick reached out with his bound hands and took Nick's elbow. He could see how Nick was still unsteady on his feet and didn't want him to fall. Ken didn't make any moves to stop him.

Once the three men reached the car, Ken stepped forward again. He used the remote on his key chain to pop open the trunk.

"In you go Nicky. And don't screw around doing it."

Panic once again ran its icy fingers through Nick. He had always been a little afraid of tight, closed in places. Warrick was right behind him. The shivers that raked Nick's body were clear to him.

"It's going to okay man. I will see that you come out of there. I am not going to let anything happen to you!"

"Promise?"

The shake in the normally strong voice made Warrick feel a little panic himself, "Always."

"So sweet, but way too slow. Just get in!"

Not taking his eyes off of Warrick, Nick lifted his left leg and placed it inside the truck. Trying to not jab his injured arm, Nick placed himself the best he could into the trunk. He had to curl up into the fetal position in order to get himself in. His eyes darted outward looking for Warrick. He never had a chance. The trunk hood was slammed down.

"So Warrick. Are you going to give me anymore trouble?"

Warrick tore his eyes from the trunk and glared at the man in front of him, "You are seriously ill man. You need help."

"And I bet you would be the first in line to hold my hand and talk with me about my problems. Whatever man. Now I want you to get into the backseat. Nice and simple."

The gun was shoved into his rib cage so Warrick had no choice, but to move. He walked to the passenger side of the car and reached forward for the handle. The door swung open easily. Warrick ducked his head down and got ready to climb in. His world went dark before he could move.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

Catherine watched Greg as he twitched nervously under the gazes of his senior employees. Sara smiled encouragingly at him, but it did little to take any attention from Grissom's blank mask. Greg had news on the car, but he didn't know how to relay the information. It was big, really big.

"Come on Greg. Just let us know what you have. Then we can run our tests and place the pieces into the puzzle. You will be just fine," Catherine used her most motherly voice.

'Okay. When I got there, Brass already had the car yellow taped and blocked off from anyone. The cleaners had stopped their jobs as soon as they opened the truck. What they found…several stands of black hair. Well, more than strands, there was a large clump."

Gil did nothing. He didn't even seem to blink. Sara's eyes got wider and she shifted in her seat. She was getting excited. They may have found the transport vehicle. Heather had black hair and she was found dead two days ago.

"So, I opened it up and took a good look. I bagged the hairs that I found. As I was about to move onto the interior of the car, I noticed something white against the bumper end of the trunk. Stuck in the locking mechanism, there was a chunk of white cloth."

Now Gil's eyebrows went up. Two pieces of cloth to go with now. "Where there any skin graphs or bits of blood anywhere?"

Greg sighed, "Not that I could see. But it is up to you guys to do that one."

"What are you talking about Greg?" Sara studied the younger man.

"Well, the car should be here soon. I had it towed in."

Catherine laughed as Greg shrugged his shoulders and smiled goofily at them. The kid did the right thing and he knew it. He was just not the kind to make a full blown announcement for it. That was Warrick's department. Speaking of…

"Had anyone heard anything from the guys yet?"

Gil looked at his watch. He really should have gotten something from one of them by now. This was not like either of them.

"I will try to get a hold of them. Maybe they are stuck in traffic or something."

"I dunno about that one. It was easy moving when I was on my way back. Nothing was clogging up the lanes," Greg stated.

"I am still going to try. Good job Greg. You keep this up and you will be working strong in the field in no time," Gil said as he got up and left the room to make the call. He didn't wait to see the beam of content that came across Greg's face at the compliment from the boss.

The cell phone flipped open with a slight snap. He went straight to speed dial for Warrick's phone. Gil held it to his ear and counted the rings. His team was taught to answer the phone by the fourth ring when they were in the field. Four came and went. The voice box picked up after six.

"Brown. Leave a message after the beep."

Gil hung up without leaving a message. He quickly tried Nick's phone. Same thing, just a different message left for the caller.

"This is Nick. Try again or leave a message.'

Grissom walked into his office and sat heavily back into his chair. His phone fell with a thud onto the papers that littered his desk. Something was not right. His guys were not answering their phones. One of them should have answered. He shouldn't have sent them alone.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

Ken pulled into his parking spot for his room. This hotel was just down the street from the one in which he killed Heather in. He had to lose the one on the Strip for this little run. No way he could get the two men into the room without every camera in the place capturing his face.

There were only two other cars in the lot. It would be a quiet night at Sleepy Inn. He didn't bother closing the door quietly. Ken first went to the door and opened it. The two men would be heavy enough. He really didn't want to fuck around with the door at the same time.

Warrick was sprawled out on the backseat. There was a little bit of blood clinging to the back of the black hair from where Ken hit him with the gun to knock him out. It wasn't enough to make a mess. Ken reached in and grabbed the tall man under the arms and pulled.

"What the hell do you CSI guys eat? Damn!"

Warrick finally slipped out of the car. His feet hit the ground. The unconscious man groaned, but didn't wake up. Ken regained his grip and hauled the man towards the open door. It went fairly well, but it got Ken working up a nice little sweat.

By the time Ken got Warrick into the bathroom, he thought he was going to hyperventilate. This was ridiculous. Ken needed to hit the gym once he moved away from Vegas and the lights. He took a second and placed his hands on his knees. Deep breaths filled the tiny yellow bathroom.

Once Ken felt better, he walked out of the bathroom into the larger room that served as the bedroom, "How's it going? I brought home company."

Colleen studied her kidnapper through all her tears. She had watched him pull in the black man. She was scared. Ken had brought her to this room after announcing he needed to move. He drugged her and she guess, carried her out wedding style. How else could he get her out without any trouble?

"I have one more for the party. I will be right back, my sweet."

Ken walked out the door and looked around the lot. No one was stirring. He smiled in self-satisfaction as he listened to the trunk unlock. This was worth more than money. This was fun.

TBC…innocent…