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.

Title: Poisonous Fear

Author's Note: Welcome back! I must say, I would think you wanted me to post the rest of this story in one day! But where is the fun in that! Cliffhangers are as such for a reason. Have to let them sit and settle. I don't know about you, but I am looking forward to some more of Tenner's work. Yes, the man isn't done yet! He kinda took over and made me write these things down for him. (But again, he makes the rating what it is) So yeah, go read. See what else in store for our guys! See y'all on Monday! Bye!

By: duffshel

#20

Jim Brass stalked down the empty hallway looking for anyone. The new 419 call had just come in and he needed to find someone to come work it. A flash of brown hair caught his attention and he immediately changed his route towards it. His frown deepened when he only found Greg Sanders, alone.

"Sanders! I need you to come with me."

The newest CSI turned from the table he was bent over and faced the burly cop that was charging in his direction, "What's up?"

"We got a 419. Down on Palm Grove Dr. I need you to come with."

"But I am working on finding Nick and Warrick. I just got all the reports done on my processing of Grissom's SUV," Greg looked shocked at being removed from something so important.

Brass smiled, but only a little bit, "What if I told you the vic, Sharon Walker, was part of our church under investigation."

Greg snapped up and looked at the detective. It was something that could help open up the case. He just wanted to find his friends and get them back to the lab. And without Grissom's constant presence, the lab was running way below par.

"Where's Catherine at?"

"Vega came and got her…twenty minutes ago. Said he needed her to check something out. Didn't hear what."

"Alright then," Brass nodded, "We'll call them on the way. Get your stuff. Meet me at my car in five."

Greg watched Brass leave the room and rubbed a hard hand over his eyes. He was tired and sick of this uncertainty that hung around like a bad odor. With an inward groan, Greg got out of his seat and headed out to collect his kit. He knew this was the right thing to do, being the only CSI left from the graveyard shift in the building. But it was harder than he would have ever thought.

The Magnum was revving steadily by the time Greg walked out the doors to the lab. He threw his kit into the back seat before he slipped in and strapped on his seat belt. Brass didn't say a word as he shifted into drive and they headed off.

This was the first time Greg had ever been in Brass' car. He didn't know what to do. It was very neat and there was nothing lying on the floors. Nothing like his own car where it was considered luck if the floor mats were visible. Greg didn't know if he was allowed to actually touch anything.

Brass didn't seem to notice his passenger's discomfort as he reached for his radio, "Hey Sam. You out there?"

The radio crackled as he waited for a response. It didn't take too long, "Jim. What can I help you with?"

"Heard you came in and grabbed up Catherine. Wondering what you're up to?"

"Decided I didn't like the church anymore and wanted to go take a look at it. Catherine wanted to join in. We're about four minutes away."

"Alright. Fill me in later. Grabbed up Sanders for that new 419."

Brass could almost hear the smile in Vega's voice, "Good luck with that one. Hear it's pretty messy."

"Thanks. Meet up at the station."

Greg watched Brass hang up the hand set and concentrate back on the road stretched out in front of them. There was no more talking. There was only road and quiet.

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

Catherine smiled to herself as she listened to the conversation between the two cops. Both men were very good friends, but only if you knew them. A stranger would think the two barely could stand each other when they were on a case. Their answers were short, clipped, and often, sarcastic. And, also, because she could just see Greg squirming around in that car.

The Church of Gods was an older building. It was constructed from gray bricks and wasn't one of the most attractive churches she had ever seen. A little research had given her a construction date of 1927. It had been originally built for medical containment. A hospital used to stand right next to it, long since destroyed. That had helped to explain that creepy room in the basement.

Vega pulled his car right up to the front step. The blonde CSI got out and brushed her hands down the front of her stomach, brushing out her shirt. She turned to face Vega as the cop reached in and removed her kit from the backseat for her. He nodded at her small thanks.

Both walked side by side to the main entrance doors. Voices could be heard inside so neither hesitated to walk right in. There were several people scattered around the room. A small family with two boys sat towards the back. An elderly couple sat together in front of the alter. Then there were a few single men and women here and there.

Catherine stood and watched the room for a moment before moving right towards Jacob Tenner's office. The door was closed and she rapped her fist against it three times. Vega moved to stand behind her, still facing out into the room. Catherine counted to ten before striking the wood again.

"Mr. Tenner? It's Catherine Willows with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I need to speak with you."

Her call through the door attracted the attention of a young, blonde male sitting on one of the benches behind her, "He isn't in there right now. There's a meeting downstairs. I can go get him for you."

Neither she nor Vega could say a word before the man bolted off his chair for the door leading to the basement. Catherine shared a look with Vega before she turned back to the office door and tried the knob. It was unlocked. She gave the door a shove and looked into the lit room. There were papers scattered around, the computer turned off.

Catherine took a few steps into the room and surveyed the walls. There were several posters of different religious artifacts and some bulletin papers. Nothing jumped out for her attention. It looked like a messy office of an old guy. She looked back out the door to see Vega waving his hand at her.

Vega watched as the CSI closed the door and returned to his side. Not a second later the young man reached the top of the stairs and walked over to them. He left the door wide open.

"Mr. Tenner is downstairs and said you may join him if you wish."

The detective nodded his head, "We'll most certainly do that. Thank you."

It wasn't more than twenty steps to reach the door. Vega started down, Catherine hot on his heels. She remembered this dark hallway downward. It still struck her as odd to have such a room for meetings when the main room was so much more attractive. And full of light.

This time there were voices at the end though. They walked right into the room, filled with four people. Mr. Tenner was standing in the middle of the circle, a book in his hand. He turned to face the new arrivals and smiled.

"Ah, welcome back. I remember you from the last time," he said to Catherine before turning to Vega, "Though I do not remember your face."

"Detective Sam Vega with the Las Vegas P.D. I have obtained a search warrant to take a deep look into this building and the activities that take place here."

Tenner's smile dimmed a little, "I already told them the last time they were free to look around. There was no need to get a warrant involved."

"CSI Willows is going to be taking over your office for awhile and I'm going to search the premises. It would be best if you stayed out of the way until we are complete. Then we may have some questions for you."

"Very well. Do as you need to. I have a group to finish up here. There will be no reason for me to be in your way, as you put it."

Vega smiled thinly at the man. He could see why Jim had been so uncomfortable around him. Something was not right about any of this. Catherine grabbed his upper arm and led him away. They climbed the stairs and stood at the top for a second.

"Something isn't right here."

Catherine nodded her head, "He's hiding something. But I don't know what or where."

"You think he knows where your guys are at?"

"I'd put money on it. But we need to find something so we can pull him in. Then we need to get Brass in to question him. He'll crack eventually."

"Okay. I'll start with the outside and work in," Vega stated.

Catherine stopped him before he turned away, "Do you really have a warrant?"

"Well, not in my hand. It's sitting on the judge's desk waiting for a signature. But he didn't ask to see it, now did he. Our little secret."

He left a smiling Catherine behind. She took one deeper look around the room, at the people sitting in their pews. No one seemed to be paying to much attention to her or Sam. She took a deep breath and headed back into the office, determined to rip it apart. They needed something.

She missed all the eyes turning to look at her back as she walked over the threshold.

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

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Warrick could almost taste it in the air. He had been injected as well, but wasn't reacting anywhere as bad as Nick was. The other man was breathing harshly and was sweating profusely. Different parts of his skin turned red and irritated. He was ignoring both his and Grissom's pleas for answers.

It hadn't been enough to rattle Tenner's bones even a little. The elderly man had walked calmly right over to Nick's side and pressed his fingers at the CSI's strained throat. Warrick could still see the satisfied eyes as he turned and called Shaun over. The taller man leisurely left them room through the second door, no hurry in his steps even as the screams behind him choked off.

Tenner had leaned over and whispered things right into Nick's ear. It made Warrick even more upset to see the man so intimately close with his partner. And it was clear it made Nick squirm even as he battled whatever was going on. Nick had still been trying to get noises from his throat, but it seemed impossible now.

Shaun returned shortly, with another needle. Warrick yelled for this to stop. No one paid any attention to him. Grissom had tried to talk to him, calm him down a little. Kept saying this wasn't helping Nick out. But Warrick hadn't cared. He almost broke a tooth when he slammed his teeth together as the needle plunged into Nick once again.

But whatever it was, was enough to calm Nick down. Now the only noises from the man were the pants for air and nonsense mumbling. Nick's eyes were glossy and his flesh gray. Warrick didn't like it. Something was wrong.

Whatever it was made Tenner happier than a clam. So, he had lied about each of the syringes containing pure, diluted frog toxin. Of course, all of them contained the poison, but one had an extra additive. Nicholas Stokes had an emergency label tacked to his file about being highly allergic to wasp stings. Learning to extract wasp venom was cake work compared to the frog collection. And it had been a highly concentrated extraction. Always good to have a biochemist in the church.

The CSI had reacted almost better than planned. Tenner didn't think he would need the allergy medicine so quickly. It seemed the frog toxin might have aided in the reaction. But he wasn't going to worry about it too much. Everything had worked. Both the other men were tense and on edge. Nick was clinging to a thread.

He was wondering what approach he should take next. Grissom was still tight lipped even though his eyes showed great anxiety. Something more had to be done to break that man. Nick would be the first to die, that wasn't in question. Tenner just wanted Grissom to be broken by that time.

Shaun and Mike noticed his nod. Both men walked straight for the Texan. Shaun grabbed his shoulders tightly as Mike began to tackle the ropes tied tight around his broken arm and chest. Tenner couldn't help, but grin when he noticed the look of hatred Warrick sent in his direction.

"Problem there, Warrick?"

"Why him? Can't you just leave him alone?"

"But I just can't," Tenner walked over and crouched down in front of the tall CSI, "Something about your friend just screams for corruption. He needs to fall first. Once the heart fades and dies, the brain and soul follows. He needs to die."

Warrick couldn't stop the tremble from entering his speech, "He never did anything to you!"

"Not to me, no. But he has to the rest of the world. People walk around and ignore everything around them. Things happen right in front of them, but they choose to ignore it. You both did this when you visited the Johnson house and sealed their fates. Only the brave and wise accept the sights before them."

"What are you talking about?"

"Some would call them ghosts, apparitions. Paranoia is one way of acceptance, but it is not something acceptable to my gods. The fear isn't pure. Nick is already showing great fear. His weakness is like a neon sign. Soon he will lose. His fear is his salvation."

Warrick gritted his teeth, but his response was stopped by the cry of pain coming from the direction of his partner. He turned to see Mike get the large cutters underneath the hard, white plaster surrounding the upper part of Nick's forearm. Nick had his eyes closed, he thrown back as the two men destroyed the brace.

Grissom watched with concerned eyes. He didn't like where this could go at all. The conversation between Tenner and Warrick was quiet, but he caught the fact Nick was the first to die. He only could guess that he would be the last since Tenner would most likely want him to watch the death of Warrick as well. After all, his blood was clear of that toxin, still.

"See how he fights it," Tenner turned to face Warrick again and placed his hand on this man's cheek this time.

It was an odd sensation and it almost seemed to burn at the point of contact. Warrick tried to pull away, but Tenner simply allowed his arm to move with the action. He wondered how it had felt to Nick. Nick didn't like strangers to touch him.

"Panic already grips his heart tightly. Nick just needs to accept it and allow things to happen. Everyone in this church knows this lesson. Once you stop fighting, it is almost orgasmic, blissful. No one can stop it. The heart stops. It is enviable."

The cast was now cut downward and Mike cracked it open. Nick bit his tongue to stop from yelling out again. He endured the best he could, but this was too soon for the bones to be exposed. They shifted under his skin with the loss of support. If he focused, he could almost feel the exact points where the bones had broken.

"You are a little slower to learn these things Warrick. You are all tough and strong on the outside, refusing to let just anyone in. But your downfall is those people who do get in. I am going to use him against you. He is your greatest fear."

"No," Warrick breathed out as he starred hard into the laughing eyes of the bastard in front of him.

"Afraid so my friend," the hand squeezed a little before it pulled away, "You broke his arm, no? After he found Brett's watch?"

Warrick refused to be baited. He watched as the two goons removed themselves from Nick's personal space. The arm under the cast was wrinkled and whitely pale. It should still be locked away. That doctor was going to kill them.

"Ever have a healing bone re-broken? Either of you?" Tenner turned to face Grissom with the question.

Neither man responded. For a moment, Tenner simply starred straight back into the eyes of the supervising CSI, and didn't like what he saw. The man thought he could build up some sort of resolve and hold everything in. Tenner wanted to hit him.

"The bone is so tender it can snap like the weakest twig, but the pain is immense. It is almost much worst than the first time."

"Please…"

It was a pure gasp, but Nick got it out. His arm throbbed with a new vengeance. As much as he hated that damn cast, it hurt ten times worst without it on. Everything was fading from his thoughts, but he knew this was not something he wanted to happen. The frog toxin was beginning to work, not that he knew that was the cause at that moment.

"What do you need from me Nick?" Tenner asked.

"Don't…please…"

Tenner smiled. He knew what was happening. It wouldn't be much longer before Nick gave in to the toxin and let his body shut down. Once that happened, they would kill him. The toxin taking the life would not due. Nick had to die by the chosen way.

"Break 'em."

Nick pulled his newly released arm close to his chest and whimpered. The action wasn't enough to put a stop to Shaun's fun. The larger man grabbed Nick's hand in a tight grip and ripped the arm towards his body. It caused Nick to slam his eyes shut and cried out.

"Ready or not!" Shaun twisted the fragile wrist forward and away from Nick's body. The motion caused his elbow in a different direction. Warrick winced when he heard the crunch of the bones breaking.

Grissom closed his eyes at the strained yell Nick released. He could still see the red face, protruding forehead vein as his CSI fought to control his reaction. Another pained sound erupted for Nick and Grissom forced his eyes open. There was no way he was going to shut out the other man in his time of need.

It felt like the bones were going to break through the flesh of his arm and Shaun continued to shake it back and forth to ensure breakage. He threw his head back hard enough to crack his vertebrae, veins taunt in his neck. Finally the limb was released. His hand fell hard against his knee, new shards of pain shooting through him

Tenner watched the tears swell up under the tight eyelids, only one falling down the flushed, sweaty cheek, "Hurts? It will all be over soon."

The elderly man made to reach for his bag when the door suddenly swung open. It was one of their newer members. With time and practice, the blonde man had potential. But Tenner could tell by his posture this wasn't a social run.

"Cops! Two cops upstairs, asking to see you."

"Alright. Everyone into the other room. Set up the circle."

Warrick watched as the men suddenly all sprinted off into the other room. His heart beat sped up again as the words registered in his brain. There were cops in the building. They were so close!

"Grissom, what do we do?"

"I don't know. From the way this room is laid out, I doubt any noise will penetrate the walls."

"Well we need to try something! They will just come back and kill all of us otherwise. We need to stop this now."

Grissom shook his head and focused his attention back on Nick. The other man was breathing heavily, sweat running down his skin. His once again broken arm was limp against his leg, palm up. Grissom sighed and started to look away before something clicked. Both eyes whipped back to the fallen CSI. Nick's arm was free!

"Nick! Nicky! I need you to look up at me."

The Texan coughed roughly to clear out his throat as he lifted his head. Grissom sounded worried and that was enough to make Nick want to investigate. He looked up to see his partner and supervisor watching his every move. A small smile curved his mouth, but there was no light reaching his dull eyes.

"That's good Nick," Grissom praised the slow man, "Your arm is free. Can you get out of your chair?"

It suddenly hit Nick. His arm was free. But his wrist was also very broken. Biting down hard on his lip, Nick raised his arm a little from his leg. It hurt, more than he would have thought. The CSI took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"It's okay man. Don't do what you can't," Warrick said softly.

There is was. The ribbing, the competition. Nick straightened out his shoulders and pushed the fog from the front of his mind. Another deep breath cleared his vision a little more. Suddenly an idea hit.

Warrick watched as Nick slowly turned in his chair so that he was facing more towards the back of it. The turn looked to be putting his good arm in an odd angle, but Nick wasn't letting it stop him. But the taller CSI couldn't figure out what he was trying to pull.

But Grissom did, "Don't risk it Nick!"

"What? Don't do what?" Warrick asked in a rush.

Glaring at his restrained wrist, Nick made his decision. His injured arm moved slowly, hand hanging loosely. Grunting at the pressure, he was able to force his fingers to move through the pain. They got closer to the knot resting against the wood of the chair. Painstakingly, Nick worked his fingers into the curls and twists of the rope.

Each closed-lipped scream and deep moan made Warrick edgy. He couldn't see what the other man was doing, but could hear it wasn't pretty. A quick glance at his boss proved that the other man had little sight to this as well. But the expression Grissom wore did nothing for Warrick's anxiety.

"Nick? Buddy? What are you doing?"

"Just…trying to save…your ass…" it was throaty, but clear.

"I'm not too worried about my ass at the moment. What stupid thing are you doing now?"

Nick chuckled darkly to himself as he felt the knot come undone. He turned forward and rested his back heavily against the back of the chair. A larger smile reached his lips this time. His brown eyes swayed over to light on his partner.

"Stupid thing? Getting loose from my ropes while you haven't had any luck with yours. Yeah, real stupid."

Warrick's mouth dropped open, "Your free! What the hell are you just sitting there for you moron? Get your ass up and over here."

His body was sluggish and it was harder than it should have been to get to his feet. The distance between him and Warrick was a lot of feet. It seemed to be taking more oxygen than it should. Everything was slowly turning an odd shade of gray.

"Nick, are you alright?" Grissom questioned when he noticed the other man's pallor turn green.

The room seemed to be tilting. Nick was sure he was moving forward. Warrick was still in front of him, just looking tinier than normal. Voices screamed in his mind, but he pushed them away. They were distracting him with their concern. Gravity seemed to work against him.

"Nick!" Warrick yelled as he watched the man fall not even a foot away from him. He could almost hear the crunch of the Texan's knees when he hit the cement. Nick looked up at him with blurry eyes, brow frowned in confusion.

Nick didn't get why Warrick suddenly got so tall. And his knees weren't too happy with him for some reason. It was official, his body hated him. Nick tried to move forward, but only his upper body seemed to want to comply. It was weird to see so much dirt and gray before nothing, but black.

Both the other men tried to jump from their chairs when Nick hit the floor, his head hitting hard. The hand on his bad arm was twisted up, the fingers twitching. Grissom did something he never did. He threw his head back and let out a cry filled with his frustration.

TBC…