Before you all bring out your assault riffles . . . I can explain! My computer crashed, and I now had the phrase... 'Five to Ten buisness days'

And I have a favor to ask you all who are reading this! I need a BETA for this story! So if anyone would like to do that would be greatly appreciated . . . not to mention they would get sneek peaks at the befor-posted chapter!

Thanks, and Enjoy . . .

Mat clutched the seat of the airplane, he hated to fly and he rarely did, but this time was different. Grissom had called him, telling him what had happened. For the first time the he had ever remembered from speaking to Grissom the man had seemed laid back and calm, but on the phone the man was falling to pieces.

Nicky was his baby brother, and his lifeline. Nicky always seemed to make things easier to handle when it felt as if the world would crush him. What would he possibly do without him?

He rubbed his temples, hoping to make the images of his baby brother battered and bruised leave him. No such luck, hours after his phone call from Grissom had spurred his imagination in the worst way possible.

Nick's supervisor had explained in detail the extent of Nick's injuries. A grade three concussion, a broken collarbone, massive internal bleeding, his right lung had collapsed too . . . the list went on. He cringed inwardly at the news, and had asked how Nicky had gotten into the situation.

Who would attack Nicky? He asked himself. In his effort to answer the question, his mind came up blank. Sure, Nicky could be . . . annoying, but wasn't every little brother? Not to mention after the many countless hours of practicing baseball, Nicky still throws like a girl.

Mat had greatly hoped that Grissom would be on the case, trying to figure out who could possibly do something so heinous to his brother.

Mat had been deeply confused; Grissom was the type of man to bring someone to justice no matter the price, minus the lives of his friends. But Grissom had said that things would get violent between the team and Nick's attacker. The words were spoken in truth, if he himself would ever get his hands on that person . . . he'd very well kill them.

Some sudden turbulence made his stomach do a flip-flop, he really hated flying.

"Mr. Grissom?" A voice asked, making the tired CSI's head shoot up. Nick's doctor looked down at him, waiting for permission to begin. After a good shake of his head, the doctor began.

"He's stabilized again. Mr. Stokes shouldn't have had system failure like he did, after we got him stabilized I drew some blood to find the problem, and I did. Desipramine was found in his system, and I'm sure you now what that means."

Grissom stood beside Warrick and they both nodded their heads furiously, remembering the classes they had taken when they were younger.

Desipramine: it was an anti-depressant, and an overdose could trigger a mass of problems. These problems could range from, convulsions, shock, vomiting, irregular heartbeat, and low blood sugar.

"What are his symptoms?" Gibbs nodded as the man poured all of his current information into the CSI.

"We had to pull the tube from Mr. Stokes mouth due to the vomiting, we have nurses waiting in his room just in case." The doctor spoke unhappily. "None of my staff have been in there today except for me, and Mr. Stokes regular nurses, did you see anybody while you were visiting him?" Doctor Jennings inquired.

"Not besides a couple nurses . . . and doctor Jennings," Warrick supplied. A feeling of dread encompassed the agent when the realization dawned on him. He now knew why doctor Jennings had looked so familiar. Warrick looked over to Grissom, and they both shared the same look. "Grissom, doctor Jennings . . ."

"Doctor Jennings is the culprit in this crime . . . its Nigel Crane!" Grissom finished the sentence for Warrick. An anger consumed him that could not be ignored, he was going to do what he should have from the beginning, he was going to find the son-of-a-bitch.

Grissom had to forget his pledge to himself, and his team. They were going to find this psychopath, he was going to pay dearly.

Catherine, Sarah, Greg, and Brass sat in silence. They had heard only a few minutes ago what had happened to their friend. All of them were horrified at the anger that their supervisor had displayed towards them.

Nigel Crane, that was a name that they were hoping would never come up again, but tonight, it did. He was the man who tortured Nick to the point of near death, hell; the man had killed Nick, twice! The team was now picking up the investigation, only now they had new information, information that would fuel them until justice was met and served.

Their last interactions with the esteemed Mr. Crane had not been pleasant. And this time the CSI's were out for revenge, possible even for blood.

The cafeteria was huge, but somehow it now seemed as if it were closing on the four and only occupants of the space. Catherine was griping her hands together, Sarah was holding her cup in a death lock, Greg was staring fixedly down at the table, and Brass's hand was placed heavily on his gun.

As soon as Grissom would return from the airport, the team would be off, searching for clues. Evidence that would link a guilty to a man to a heinous crime that he had made indefinitely personal to the Las Vegas CSI crime lab.

TBC . . .