New chapter, finally. I apologize for the long wait. It most definitely wasn't planned. A combination of writer's block and lack of internet use was the culprit. That's it…right.

Big thanks to Jamie: my beta, cheering squad, and whip-wielder.

1Jim Brass was only vaguely aware of the sound of someone shouting as he lay where he had landed. He frowned as some feeling returned to his mind, and became aware that he was laying on top of something. Someone, his mind told him through the haze that had set in.

He was still trying to clear his mind when someone else grasped his arm, using it to push him over. He coughed as his face hit the dusty floor, then forced himself to his knees, groaning as he did. He paled at the sight in front of him.

Grissom lay motionless on his back at the foot of the stairs, a large bruise rapidly appearing on his temple from the tumble down the stairs. Sara kneeled by him, running her hand over his hair.

"Come on, Grissom. Wake up, please?" What if he doesn't wake up? "You have to wake up. We…I need you." He's got to wake up; he just has to. "Grissom…" she said softly. A million possibilities of what could be wrong ran through Sara's head, each one more severe than the last. She shook her head against the unbidden thought and put her hands on either side of Grissom's face, silently begging him.

Brass was having similarly grave thoughts about his friend. The panic had settled a bit, leaving him nearly nauseous. He made his way closer to them, peeling off his jacket as he did. He rolled it up and tapped Sara's arm to get her attention. She got the idea and lifted up Grissom's head gently, allowing Brass to slide the jacket underneath, giving Grissom something soft to lay on, as well as something to stabilize his head. Brass reached and opened one of Grissom's eyes.

He shook his head and let it close. "Completely rolled back. He's out of it," he said, stating the obvious.

Sara nodded ruefully and looked up at him. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't even ask. I just…" She looked back down at the still Grissom.

Brass smiled and nodded, ignoring the screaming pain in his head. "That's all right. And I'll live. I'll just tell the guys that I was attacked by a group of potheads or something."

"And beat them back all by yourself?" Sara asked with a grin.

"Damn straight."

A rattling sound at the top of the stairs caught their attention, and they looked up just as Greg threw open the door, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. And considering their past experiences, neither of them was about to cross that out as a possibility.

He fumbled down the stairs and his eyes never left Grissom. "What happened?" He looked up at Brass.

"I don't know." Brass glanced around the room as a small gust of air blew through his hair. He shivered. "But I think we should get out of this room."

Sara looked around and nodded. She then stood up and made her way to a door, throwing it open and glancing inside. "This one doesn't look so bad."

Brass nodded and turned back to Greg. "Look, Sanders. We're gonna have to carry him into that room without jostling him around too much. Can you do that?" Greg nodded, but Brass didn't look convinced.

Greg rolled his eyes and made a muscle. "Rock hard, baby."

The captain scoffed. "All right, Superman. Let's just get him in there."

Together, Brass and Greg managed to carry Grissom into the next room. It looked like it had been used as a living room, with a large couch and a few armchairs situated by a fireplace. Bookshelves filled with dusty volumes lined one wall, while two paintings and a door occupied another.

Sara yanked the cover from the couch, coughing as the dust was disrupted. They waited until most of it had settled before setting Grissom down onto the soft cushions. Brass' jacket was replaced with a small pillow.

Sara undid the top buttons on Grissom's shirt to allow him to breathe easier, then turned to Greg. "You wouldn't happen to have a bottle of water in your kit, would you?"

Greg thought for a moment and nodded. "I do, actually. I drank some of it though, if you don't mind swapping spit." He smiled, but Sara's stony face quickly made the expression disappear. He dug through his kit and pulled out a half-empty bottle, some of the label peeled off.

"Now I need a cloth. You got a handkerchief or something?" she asked Brass.

"No, sorry. I usually keep Kleenex but I'm all out of those. Gave my last few to Redden so he would stop wiping his nose on his sleeve."

Sara nodded and glanced around. Her eyes fell on the cover they had just torn from the couch and she snatched it up. She pulled a box cutter from her kit and began cutting a chunk off a corner. She took the water bottle and dumped a small amount on it, wrung it out, then poured more. She rung it out once more before folding it up neatly and laying it on Grissom's forehead.

She gazed at his still face for a moment. "C'mon, Gris. You've got to wake up."

A scream tore Sara from her restless sleep, and she lifted her head off her arms to search for the source. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, but she saw nothing when she looked around the room. Grissom was still on the couch, and Brass and Greg had fallen asleep with their backs against a wall. Greg's head had fallen onto Jim's shoulder as he slept and Sara smiled, taking out her camera and snapping a picture before either of them woke up.

She turned back to Grissom, getting up and moving away from the armchair she had settled against. At first it looked like nothing had changed, but her investigative sight set in and she saw that something indeed had changed.

The cloth she had so carefully placed on his head was now clasped tightly in one of Grissom's hands. Too tightly, she thought to herself. She carefully stepped closer to him, leaning over to peer at his face.

His eyes flickered beneath the lids for a moment before they suddenly opened, the cerulean of his eyes a stark contrast to the sullen surroundings. He studied her a moment before she smiled.

"Good to have you back, Grissom," she said simply, knowing that he would only get irritated and stressed if she made a big deal. But she couldn't stop the grin from growing.

"What did I miss?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"Not much," Sara replied, then turned to glance at Brass and Greg. "Though I think there may be something going on between those two."

Grissom lifted his head with a slight wince, then let a smile light up his features.

Sara felt her own spirits soar when he grinned. It was as if a small light had been lit in the darkness that was the hell-hole of a house they were trapped in.

"We should get a picture of that. Never know when we may need to blackmail for a warrant or coffee."

Sara held up her camera. "Beat ya to it."

They shared another smile. Grissom shifted in his seat and opened his mouth to speak, but a shrill ring cut through the dark, disrupting anything he may have been about to say. Grissom and Sara exchanged worried glances, then turned to see Brass and Greg waking up, hardly noticing their odd sleeping arrangements.

The small group cast worried glances around the room until they found the source of the noise: Sara's cell phone.

Greg stared at the phone for a long moment, then scrambled towards it, kicking Brass a few times in the process.

"Greg!" Grissom shouted, then winced at the pain that lanced through his head. Sara cast a worried glance his way before turning back to the frantic Greg, who was now fumbling with Sara's phone.

He pressed a button and held it up to his ear with a shaky hand. "H...hello?"

There was nothing for a long moment, and Greg pulled the phone from his ear to study the screen. He frowned at the blank screen, then jumped as static erupted from the small speaker, filling the room. Brass and Sara clapped their hands to their ears, while Grissom grimaced and Greg stared on in horror.

"Get out of my house!" a raspy voice demanded through the phone. "Get out!" The voice faded, replaced by what sounded like a mixture of screams, nails scraping on chalkboards, and cats howling. Greg clenched his eyes shut against the horrid sounds, then did the only thing he could think of. He stood and chucked the phone against the wall as hard as he could. The phone shattered into a dozen pieces and the noises ceased.

Greg watched silently as the phone pieces settled on the thin carpet, working his mouth. He looked from Brass to Sara and Grissom. "I...I'm sorry. I thought that maybe we could get ahold of someone to help."

Brass got to his feet with a groan and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It's all right, Greg. We all want to get out of here." He offered the CSI a small smile before moving past him to approach Grissom. "Hey, Gil. How's the noggin?"

Grissom shook his head in reply as he went to stand up, one hand going to his temple as he did. "Feels like I went a few rounds with Mike Tyson."

"At least you still have your ears," Greg quipped.

"Thank you, Greg." Grissom turned to Sara, who was studying him with a worried expression.

"Are you sure you should be getting up? I mean, you could have a concussion or something," she said, then immediately felt stupid.

"It probably would be best for me to stay still, but I don't think this house is going to allow us that luxury. We had better find the way out, and fast."

TBC