Chapter Three

A/N: Thanks goes again, and always, to Grissomgal71 for her wonderful beta job. And thanks to all those who were patient enough to wait for the latest installment.

"Grissom, I swear we're going back and forth," Sara said tiredly as she moved to Grissom's side.

Grissom made a face and studied the room they had just stepped into. Same plastic-covered couch, same dusty bookshelves, and their footsteps from the last time they'd walked through. "We're chasing our tails."

"And we're still no closer to find Brass and Greg."

"Or the door out," Grissom added, pulling open a door they had earlier discovered to be a closet. This time, however, Grissom and Sara found themselves staring into an expansive dining room.

They exchanged confused glances, then stepped into the large room. The door behind them shut with a slam, causing Sara to jump and instinctively grasped Grissom's arm. He looked down at her hand for a moment, then patted it with his own.

She gave him a smile before releasing his arm and turned her attention to their new surroundings.

"Well, the good news is that we're in a different room," he commented, trying to lighten the mood a little. He then froze, watching a small cloud dissipate in front of his mouth. "Sara…" he said softly, making another puff appear.

Sara felt the change in temperature as well. Her breath showed in small clouds in front of her, and she felt goosebumps rising on her skin.

A loud creak emanated from above them, causing both to jump, then seemed to travel down into the room. Everywhere they turned, the CSI's heard the creaking and groaning of old wood. It came from nowhere and everywhere and it almost seemed as though the house were ready to collapse upon itself.

Then, as suddenly as the noise began, it stopped, plunging them into complete silence. Grissom glanced around, then took a few steps closer to Sara. The sound of splintering wood erupted behind him, and he all but leapt over to Sara. She may have found the expression on his face comical had their situation been different.

They shakily turned to study the source, seeing the broken remains of one of the dining chairs scattered where Grissom had been standing seconds before.

Sara's eyes were wide as she looked at Grissom, but his interest appeared to be somewhere else. She followed his gaze to an expansive china cabinet opposite them, then heard the noise. It was rattling, as if the floor were shaking and causing the plates to clatter against each other. She turned back to Grissom when he grasped her arm.

"Sara…I think we should get out of this room," he whispered, carefully eyeing the clattering dishes.

"Grissom?" she asked softly; his behavior was frightening her a little bit.

"C'mon," he urged, tugging on her arm. But as soon as he took a step, the rattling increased in intensity. "Run!" he shouted, all but dragging Sara after him as he sprinted towards the nearest door.

Sara heard a crash behind her, and stole a glance. She watched, shocked, as the dishes flew off their shelves, shattering as they slammed into the wall right behind her.

Grissom reached the door first, pulling it open. Then he turned and grabbed Sara by both arms and practically threw her into the other room as a plate shattered inches from his head. She caught her balance, then turned to grasp his hand and pull him after her.

Suddenly, he cried out in pain and surprise, stumbling and falling back against the wall. He sank to the floor, dazed.

"Grissom!" Sara shouted, lunging back into the dining room. She grabbed a handful of Grissom's jacket front and awkwardly tried to pull him to safety. Luckily, he regained his some of his senses and got his feet working enough to push himself through the door. Sara slammed the door shut, listening to the thuds and shattering from the other room.

She turned her attention to Grissom, who had sunk onto a dusty chair with a hand on his head, grimacing.

Sara put a hand on his knee and hunkered down in front of him. "What happened?"

He frowned. "I think one clipped me," he replied, pulling his hand away and studying the blood on it.

"Let's see," Sara said as she stood up. He sighed, but allowed her to inspect the wound, which turned out to be a cut running from his temple to his ear. The cut itself wasn't bad, but she knew the impact was going to leave Grissom with a slight headache.

She dug through her jacket pockets for a moment, producing a few tissues. Gently, she pressed them against the small wound. Grissom raised an eyebrow, but made no move to stop her. She smiled. "Don't worry. The tissues are new. I just keep a few in my pocket, just in case."

He nodded. "Good thing." He reached a hand up and put his fingers over hers. Her heart fluttered a little bit, and she felt her face reddening in reaction. She removed her hand, making sure Grissom still held his against the wound, and straightened up.

She patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine. And I think I have some aspirin in my kit," she added, looking around for the silver case.

Grissom saw her expression change and frowned. "What is it?"

"Our kits…I can't find them."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "They must be in there," he said, nodding his head toward the door they had just come through.

"Great…That's just wonderful," Sara said, exasperated. "I'm not going back in there. No way!"

Grissom smirked, then winced and put a hand up to his head. "Don't worry about it, Sara. At this moment, the last thing I'm worried about is our fingerprint brushes."

"Well, I had my cell phone in there, Grissom."

He shook his head. "Won't work." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone to hand it to Sara. "There's no reception; I've tried."

Sara glanced at the phone, reading the ominous 'No Service' on the small screen. Then she groaned and handed the phone back. "Well, that's just great, isn't it?"

Grissom allowed a small smile to cross his face. Frustrated Sara wasn't someone he was permitted to see very often. And since the frustration wasn't directed towards him, he allowed himself a moment of entertainment at her expense. Then he let the grin disappear before she noticed, knowing that if she did see, the target of the frustration would be him.

"I think we should see if we can find Jim and Greg. I mean, I'd hate to find a way out and leave those two."

Sara let out a small laugh. "Poor Brass…Stuck eternally with Greg in a haunted house."

"Do you think we're any closer to getting out?" Greg asked as Brass reached for another door knob.

The police captain rolled his eyes. "And how would I know that? Every time you think you know something about this house, it changes."

"I wonder if it did this to the people that lived here. I mean, that would kind of suck. Get up in the middle of the night when you gotta go to the bathroom….Only to find that the bathroom has changed places, so now you don't know where to go."

Brass was surprised when he actually chuckled at that. Perhaps the stress was getting to him… "Yeah, I'd imagine that wouldn't be very pretty." He shook his head and pushed a door open. Then he rolled his eyes and shut the door again.

"Same room?" Greg asked.

"Same room," Brass confirmed, his voice weary. The last ten doors they'd opened had all lead to the same room, complete with faded painting on the wall and flowered bedspread.

"Maybe something wants us to go into that room?" Greg asked as he stared at the closed door.

Brass made a face. "If anything in this house wants me to go somewhere, I'm going the opposite way." He pushed open another door and peered inside. "Bathroom?"

Greg frowned and stuck his head around the doorjamb. "Bathroom," he verified, then stepped past Brass inside. He glanced around, taking in the old fixtures and layer of water that covered the floor.

"What's your hurry, Sanders?" Brass asked, stepping inside after him. "You gotta go?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "It's different. I want to know why."

"What makes you think there's any rhyme or reason to this place? It's all meant to screw with our heads. And let me tell you, it's working."

"Yeah…" He continued to study the tile floor, following it to the wall and glancing briefly at the old bathtub. Then he looked at the sink, where a small stream of water was flowing from the faucet, going into an already full sink before spilling onto the floor. He frowned and reached forward to turn the faucet off.

He looked up at the mirror, then recoiled in terror. Instead of his normal face, he saw what looked like a four-day-old corpse, flesh rotted out and eyeballs missing. His panic sent him tumbling into Brass before rushing out back into the hallway.

Brass followed him, his face showing that he wasn't sure if he should be worried about Greg, or scared of him. "What?" he asked, then wanted to kick himself when it came out rougher than he'd intended.

Greg leaned against the wall and took a moment to compose himself. "The mirror…I saw…looked dead…freaky…I think I'm gonna throw up…"

"Hey, hey!" Brass exclaimed, holding up his hands. "Give me a minute to get out of the way." Then he turned serious, leaning down so he could look the former lab rat in the face. "What did you see, Greg?"

Greg took a deep breath. "When I looked in the mirror…I saw…"

"Your reflection?" Brass suggested when Greg paused. "Hey, don't worry pal. I'd freak out if I saw that, too."

Greg laughed in spite of himself, then gave the captain his harshest glare. "Not funny." He glanced back towards the mirror. "It looked like I was dead…"

Brass frowned, serious now. "No chance it was just your imagination?"

"Man, if my imagination is making me see things like that…I need a shrink."

Brass gave Greg a friendly slap on the back. "Don't worry, Greg. It's just the house trying to mess with your head."

"Doing a pretty good job," Greg replied. Finally he shook his head and straightened up, looking much more stable than before.

"All right?" Brass asked.

Greg nodded. "Yup. Ready to go and…probably get lost again."

"That's the spirit." Brass smirked and stepped out of the room, waiting for Greg to follow before closing the door behind them. He looked down the hall and made his way to the next door, half expecting it to open up to a room they had already seen. But to his surprise, he saw a flight of stairs going up.

Raising an eyebrow, Brass turned to Greg. Then he motioned with his hand. "Ladies first."

TBC

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