Summary: Strange events in the form of murder leave nothing, but trouble and confusion. Nick and Warrick are pulled into a world they were not ready for. It threatens not only their lives, but their sanity.

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: Well, I just had the oddest day in a long time. My vision went all funky and couldn't see colors, well, still can't! It is really weird and almost freaky! And then, huge incident at work with a possible stolen car, crashes, police chases, and ambulances. I swear, would have never through so much drama would come from working at a retail store. But anyways, it all made me wish to post this chapter today instead of tomorrow. Thought I could use some good words on the story. Hope you all enjoy. And again, thanks for the awesome words from great people on the last chapter. See you all next time. Bye!

Title: Poisonous Fear

By: duffshel

#12

Veronica Johnson held her son close. The curtains were drawn and all the windows locked behind them. Her body was trembling, but there was nothing she could do to make it stop. She was only glad that her son had his face pressed into the print of her dress so he couldn't see the tears running down her face.

They would come soon. Charles had been told that if something would happen, they would be there. But Veronica didn't know if it would be for the best or if they would make everything worst. No matter what was going to happen with her husband behind bars, no one was going to touch her son again. She had protested the exam in the first place. They had the guilty boy. No need to touch her dear Miguel.

A few sniffles could be heard from the boy, but nothing else. He was always afraid these days. If she didn't honor her wedding vows as much as she did, she would have taken her boy and run back to her family down in Mexico. No child should have to live in fear of his father. Miguel rubbed his face against the fabric and clutched at her harder than before.

The door shook at a fist rammed against it. Veronica gasped and clung to her boy even more. They were already here. She didn't know what they would ask. Always they wanted names and any other information one knew about their enemies. She didn't know anything about those men. They were only last names to her.

It wasn't long before the door began to bend as they attacked it. She couldn't force herself to get up and unlock it for them. That would leave Miguel in the middle of the room alone and that was not an option. Once they were in, she would give them what they wanted and then lock them back out. Veronica listened to the wood crack as the door was freed from the handle that locked it into place. It swung open and a group of cloaked figures poured in.

They quickly swarmed around the woman and her boy. Whispers washed over her face as they got closer and closer. One stopped right in front of her and kneeled down close. The black fabric rustled, but Veronica couldn't see the face hidden within. But when the voice spoke at full tone, she knew who it was. It wasn't all that surprising.

"Where is your husband?"

It took a moment for her to find her voice, though it was still weak, "He was…arrested."

"By whom?"

"I only know two names, Stokes and Vega. The other two were different, but I don't remember what they called themselves," she shook as the words tumbled out.

"Was there a man named Brown with them?"

"Maybe," Veronica was trembling, "There was a tall, black man with them that wasn't a cop. Might have been him. I don't remember if a name was said."

A hand reached up and touched her on her cheek. The skin was odd. It reminded her of something, something that only age could bring. But the owner of the hand pulled back before she had more time to analyze it. The mask got even closer. She could feel the softness on her skin now.

"We did your family a justice. Doing two more will cost you."

"I have nothing more to give"

The figure sat back on its heels "I think you do. Don't worry, it won't hurt…much."

Veronica could feel the sobs rising in her throat as she hugged Miguel close. His face was still against her body. He shouldn't be here for this. Her eyes couldn't keep up with the other cloaks as they danced around the room. One went to the lamp at the side of the couch. The room went dark. She could only feel now.

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

Warrick starred at the beaker sitting in front of him. This new gig was really beginning to suck. He could defiantly understand Greg's need to get out of this place. It was just too boring for his tastes. But Mia had told him to wait in this lab. Warrick wanted to pull out his hair. And he had only been here for ten minutes.

Most of the day staff was gone, the grave yard crew trickling in slowly. Even Grissom had thrown in the towel and headed home. None of his fellow CSI's were here and he really didn't feel like talking with anyone else at that moment,

He had run into Brass on his way in and the detective have filled him on what happened when Mr. Johnson was questioned. The man had something to do with everything, but they just didn't have enough on him. The DNA sample they had taken from him didn't match anything they had. All they had was the dogs in his backyard, but that wouldn't hold up in court. The defense would shred that.

Doctor Albert Roberts was currently looking back over the boy's body and making a solid connection to the dogs. They still didn't have a name, but they were hoping to get something out of Mr. Johnson, some time soon. But Warrick wasn't allowed to think like this right now. He was banned.

"Hey, don't be such a downer," Mia smiled from her place in the doorway.

She had come in when the man in front of her erupted into one very large sigh. Mia knew he was not happy about this arrangement, but he would get over it. The DNA lab was busy with cases from day so she would need all the help she could get. Maybe if Warrick was good, she would let him work on the good stuff.

"Hey girl. So what are you going to put me through tonight?"

"Nothing major. We have some clean up work from a couple cases the day shift has been working. And then just some paper filing. Trace is where the action is at right now, but Hodges has made it clear to me he doesn't want you in there."

Warrick smirked, "I wouldn't want to work with him anyways."

Mia laughed as she walked over to get her counters ready. She had loosened up a little since she started working for this lab. It wasn't that she still didn't like order; she had just learned to make it a little more chaotic. The CSI's just didn't give her the option to have the perfect lab anymore.

The tall CSI forced his body to his feet and walked over to help her get things ready. The folders and samples were waiting after all. Warrick was sure they would be getting a whole lot of shit from the day guys if their stuff wasn't ready to go when they got back. They weren't as nice with things like that as his team.

Both were busy in their tasks that they missed the new arrival. Catherine walked into the room, a sad smile on her face. She hated seeing any of her guys in that white lab coat. It looked weird on the tall frame of the dark skinned man. He was meant to be in fine clothes only, not that cheap cotton.

"So how are things going in here?"

Warrick turned to face the blonde and grinned, "Just getting started. Are you nosey or something, Cath?"

"Nah, just wondering how you are doing?"

"Okay considering. Going to be a long couple days, no offense Mia."

The other woman scoffed, "None taken."

Catherine studied Warrick's face for a moment, "How's Nicky?"

"Don't know. Man won't answer his phone. I woke up later than I thought I would so I didn't have time to run over quick."

Warrick was worried about the Texan. He knew how personal Nick took Grissom and his words. There was no reason to think anything bad would come from it, but he was worried just the same. No matter what happened during this shift, he was going to stop over there when it was done. Nick was going to talk about this.

"Well, I'll be leaving you two alone now. Don't make me have to come in and clean anything up, ya hear!"

Catherine walked away from the two laughing behind her. She still needed to head to the locker room and get ready for the new shift. Only one other person was in there and she laughed at the sight. There was always free entertainment with one Greg Sanders.

The former lab technician had his headphones on and was currently jamming on an invisible guitar as he hopped in place. His back was to Catherine so she was able to get in a good show. She sat on the bench and was wishing she had a tub of popcorn and a camera. She had seen some odd things when Greg still worked in the lab, but nothing this free and wild.

The song was reaching its climax and Greg could feel his blood pumping to the beat. He jumped up onto the bench and closed his eyes. His voice joined in even though he couldn't hear it over the pounding in his ears. Greg began shaking his head, sending his hair flying. As far as he still knew, he was alone and had a few more minutes.

The door open one more time and Catherine turned to watch her boss walk in, a complete look of confusion on his face. Grissom never understood Greg's addiction to looking like an idiot when listening to music. Catherine was sure that the older man had never done anything remotely close to dancing and singing when listening to any music.

"What is going on in here?"

Catherine shushed him with a wave of her hand. She wanted to see the grand finally. And Greg wasn't one to disappoint. As the song came to its closing, he jumped off the bench, propelling himself as high as he could in the air. He landed with his feet apart, throwing his arms high into the arm and jamming with his head. Greg took a deep breath and opened his eyes when the song stopped completely. He fell backwards over the bench as he took in the other two.

"Oh shit!"

Both Catherine and Grissom were at his side as he tried to figure out what happened from the floor, "You okay?"

"Damn, warn a guy next time," Greg groaned as he pushed himself up and away from Catherine's hands. It wasn't a big deal that he had been caught, but it just had to be Catherine and Grissom. That other man always seemed to catch him when he was dancing to some type of music.

"You should be getting ready for work," Grissom lectured, "But instead you are in here acting like a fool. I already have had to hand down punishment on two others. Don't make me have to do the same to you Greg."

With that statement, the gray haired man left the room. Catherine placed her hands on her hips and glared at that door. That man always knew how to slam someone down into the ground. He really needed to learn how to live and let others do the same.

"Come on Greg. Get ready and I'll meet you in the conference room," she said as she followed through the doorway.

Grissom wasn't very far down the hallways and it didn't take much for her to catch up to him. She grabbed a hold of his lower arm and pulled him down and into his office. He didn't put up much resistance and didn't say a thing. Catherine closed the door with a slam and turned on the other.

'What is wrong with you? Greg was doing nothing wrong!"

"He was distracted, not on the case,"

Catherine could feel her jaw drop, "It is a new shift, a new look as you always say. The boy just walked in the door! He shouldn't have to be thinking on the case already. He isn't you!"

"No he isn't, but he should take his job more seriously. He could get himself hurt and there would be nothing any of could do. I will not let that happen. He needs to think before he acts."

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't about Greg at all, is it?" her voice dropped as she looked into the raged face of Grissom. Rarely had she seen this side of him.

Grissom felt as if he had been hit. The air left his lungs and his legs felt weak. He reached around and found the back of his chair before he lowered himself into it. This had been building up since last shift. It shouldn't have come out like this, not against Greg. He should have straightened it out earlier.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things."

"No, but you needed to. Who's this really about?"

He looked up into Catherine's eyes, "I'm worried about Nicky."

Not even thinking about the action, Catherine walked up to Grissom and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She held him tight as he took a couple of deep breaths and closed his eyes. Catherine knew how much every member of this team meant to Grissom even if he never told any of them.

"He will be fine."

"For now, but who knows what is going to happen next. If I could, I would put him in a jar."

Catherine couldn't help it. She laughed, "Yeah, that would go over real well. He is just at home and not answering his phone. I talked with Warrick."

A knock at the door stopped any response. Greg opened it and stuck his head in. He wasn't in the mood to be killed, but wanted to know what he should be doing. The sight of Catherine standing behind Grissom wasn't as shocking as it probably should have been. Catherine always was a hugger when things started to get rough.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"No Greg, please come in," Grissom waved him over, "I am sorry for what happened in the locker room. I was out of line and shouldn't have taken that tone. Don't let it affect your performance tonight."

"Heh, no sweat. Nick and Warrick have yelled at me worse. I'll live."

Catherine watched the interaction, "So what are the plans for tonight, oh fearless leader?"

"I want up to find any connection we can for the White's with that church. Something is going on in that place and I believe it may hold our answers. Let's find the reports on them and see what comes up. I'll call Vega and have him fax over the report he took from his visit with Mr. White's boss."

Grissom watched Catherine walk over to stand next to Greg. This was all he had for the night. He had been stupid in making Warrick go into the lab. Maybe he could get him to come back and work with him again. And he was going to have to make a call to Nick. He was worried about the Texan.

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

It was warm in the room. The covers were too much. Nick kicked them off the bed as he struggled to wake up. His body was still caught up in the rest, but his brain wanted nothing more to do with it. He opened his eyes and turned his head enough so he could look at the digital clock that sat on his night stand. Nick had been asleep for only six hours.

Groaning, he lifted a heavy hand to his face to wipe away all the remnants of sleep. He needed to get up and moving. Nick crawled out of bed and made his way slowly to the bathroom. His arm was throbbing as the blood flow returned to it at full force. The Texan was going to need another pain pill if it didn't cease.

The sight in the mirror was somehow confusing. Nick's eyes crinkled as he took in the large bruise covering a good portion of his lower, right face. It took a few seconds for him to remember the attack from Mr. Johnson at the man's house. That was the reason he was not allowed to work for a week. Nick scowled at his image.

"Stupid asshole!"

He picked up the bar of soap on the sink and chucked it into the shower. It reshaped with the impact and part of it remained on the tiling. Nick took a deep breath to calm himself. The sudden movement had sent sharp pains through the cast. He kept forgetting he needed to be more careful with himself at that moment. And he needed to get that plastic bag to cover the thing so he could shower.

Shuffling back into the hallway, he headed to the kitchen and his bag of goodies from the hospital. He remembered how Dr. Mercer explained to put it on the best way and managed to get it right after three tries. If he had the energy and the beer, he might have thrown himself a party.

But something was bothering him. Nick could feel that he was missing something again. Sleep had taken it away from him. The CSI stood in the middle of the kitchen, plastic bag in place, trying to think of whatever it was. This was going to bother him. He headed to the bathroom. A shower was needed.

TBC…