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: Hi again. Had to go and get sick over the weekend. Man, do I hate colds! Should just torture Nick and Warrick with one of those in a different story. Would be enough! But anyways…just because I didn't have enough characters in this story, I bring a new one in (I am sure some people missed her). As for all of those of you who were hoping for Nick to wake up and save the day…well, read on. See ya all on Wed. Bye!

Title: Poisonous Fear

By: duffshel

#21

Sara Sidle walked into the lab and nodded at the receptionist. Her skin was tanned, stripes of blonde hair streaking her normally dark hair. There was a bounce to her step that wasn't usual. It was sad that it took going to a funeral to lighten up her mood.

Hodges bustled past her, not a word. She starred after him for a moment. It was rare that the man didn't have anything stupid to say to her. Sara shrugged her shoulders and continued on. She walked towards the DNA lab hoping to find one of her other CSI's. Someone had to have something to do.

Mia was bent over her microscope, oblivious to everything around her. She was trying to find connections with anything for their case. Anything could point the finger now and Mia wasn't about to over look anything.

A soft cough caught her off guard and Mia whipped around on her stool. She was shocked to see Sara standing there with a smile, "Welcome back."

"Thanks. Just got in. Wanted to stop in and see what was up, but can't seem to find anyone."

Sara watched the technician almost squirm under her stare. Something was up, "Where is everyone?'

"Umm, well…thing's got bad when you were gone."

"Meaning?"

Mia took a deep breath and used it all to run through her quick speech, "Nick, Warrick, and Grissom are missing, don't know where. Catherine is at the Church of Gods following a lead. Greg is with Brass at a scene."

It took only a moment, "What! They're missing!"

The CSI was about to take off on a tangent when a male voice behind her demanded her attention, "Sidle, my office. Now."

Sara faced Ecklie, but didn't have a chance to say anything as the man walked away from her. A hand rubbed at her upper thigh as she chewed on her inner cheek. This was not what she wanted to come home to. She was never going to leave again. A quick look and wave at Mia, Sara took off after the lab director hoping to learn what the hell was going on.

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These were not ideal scenes. Greg felt sick to his stomach. The woman had been raped, then butchered. Whoever were the ones to attack this woman, felt the need to torture her even in death. He watched as Brass walked around, barking orders at his officers.

"Ready to head back to the lab, Sanders?"

"Yeah, more than ready."

Brass grinned, "Looking a little green around the gills there. Not taking too kindly to the sight?"

"No, this is just not right. We are not only looking for murderers, we're looking for disgusting perverts. This is beyond cruel."

"You have been hanging out with Nicky too much."

Then mention of one of their missing coworkers brought them both up short. During the processing of the victim's body, it had been easy to forget the major ordeal in their lives. But now that they were done at the scene, the pressure slammed back down onto their shoulders.

Brass coughed and rubbed his hand nervously against the back of his neck, "Come on kid. Let's get back."

Neither said another word as they traveled at the speed limit back to the lab. Greg wanted to talk, say anything, but didn't know what he wanted to say. Over the years there had been stress when dealing with this job. People got hurt, things happened. Hell, he even got blown up once. It was something that came with the territory, but Greg would never get used to it. This concern was eating him alive.

Greg didn't even realize they had made it back to the lab. He had been so deep in his thoughts, most of them not pleasant. No matter how positive he tried to be, all he could see was Nick with his throat slashed, Warrick strangled, and Grissom underneath a pile of flesh eating bugs. It was beyond disturbing. He was just glad foreshadowing didn't run in his family.

The detective made no noise as he exited his car and waited for the young kid to do the same. For some reason he didn't want to go inside alone. Not that he would ever tell anyone. Jim had a reputation to live up to. If people suddenly found out he was afraid to go into the lab alone, it would be over. Trying to cover for his thoughts, he walked quickly, leaving Greg to catch up.

No one jumped at the two men with good or bad news once they entered the main hallway. It could be a good thing or a bad thing. Brass didn't care to figure that one out. Greg headed automatically for the break room. Brass watched him for a moment before forcing himself to follow.

Greg could only think of getting some caffeine in him to work through the rest of this. He wanted to hold off on this new dead body, but knew he would get shit if he did. Almost without looking, he walked past Ecklie's office. Something seemed odd about it today, but Greg didn't think about it. He could smell coffee, even cheap as it was. It smelled like heaven.

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Gr4issom didn't know what to do. There was no training for this type of situation. He was forced to watch Warrick try to rip himself out of the chair, in such a rage. And Nick, still as a board on the floor. He was loosing his guys.

He knew enough to know if they lost Nick now, they were all done for. Warrick would never be the same, would never be able to be a good CSI anymore. The man had a temper that was well known and this would shatter any hold he had on it.

Catherine would be devastated beyond words. She had often talked about those two being her boys, the sons she was forced to have even if she didn't ask for them, but never regretted. There were always those moments when Grissom could almost say she was their mother with some of her actions. He would lose that strong woman, that strong mother.

Sara and Greg would eventually move on. They were all friends, yes, but deep down, Grissom knew those two would be the strongest to move past this. Sara had her share of fights with the guys and it wasn't always clear that they were all on the same side, but Grissom knew they cared about each other. And Greg would lose his two buddies, his pals. The young man would bounce back, but not as high. Never as high.

As for himself, it was unclear what actions he would take if he were to lose them. He felt pains in his chest he had never experienced before. Not being a strong people person, he didn't really know what he would say or do to work through something like that. These two were his coworkers, his friends, and his kids. Over the past five years, they helped to define him to who he was.

A chocked off shout of rage from Warrick caught his attention. The other man was struggling to hold back his emotions. Grissom was sure all he wanted to do was scream to everything he held dear. Even the strong lose their way in times such as these.

"Warrick?"

The black man lifted his head as if it were too great an effort, "Yeah?"

"Hold on, okay? Don't let them win."

"And how do we do that? Nick is dying at our feet, I can feel that shit starting to work, and you are doomed to die too. We are fucked, through and through. No sugar or honey for this shit."

"I am not going to offer you any sweet words, Warrick. All I am asking is for you to hold it together for me. If it is a dead end as it may very well be, then you do whatever it is you must. But for now, hold it together."

Warrick locked his eyes onto the now shaking form of Nick. He knew that was what was going to happen to him. There were spots in his vision, his hearing was getting fuzzy, and his body was getting heavy. That frog toxin shit was working its magic now. It was only a matter of time before he was in that same hell Nick was locked in.

"I don't think I can do it."

"Do what?" Grissom asked softly. He wanted to keep his voice low and soothing. Anything to help keep the other man with him.

"I'm not strong enough to do this Gris. I can't do this."

"Look, you are going to be okay. We are going to get out of this. You heard what they said, there are cops here."

"So?"

Grissom let a small grin form, "They are bound to come across something. These guys aren't very organized. Tenner will not get away with this."

Warrick frowned and looked at his boss, "Find what?"

"He's short, scared, and wants away from all this."

"Miguel."

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Not even Grissom's desk was this unorganized. It was ridiculous that anyone could operate with sort of mess. Catherine brushed some hair from her face as she let out a breath of air. She had been over every sheet of paper, through every book she found in and on this desk. Nothing was a case breaker.

There was a file cabinet to the left side of the room, but it needed a key. She had no way to get inside. Catherine had never learned the art of picking locks. It was a dead end with that one.

Catherine placed her hands flat on the top of the desk and looked around the room. Her eyes slowly covered every inch of the walls, the bookshelves. She would give up a year's salary if anything would simply jump out at her. But the burn behind her eyelids wasn't helping either.

It was quiet outside the office and from her angle with the door open, there was no one in the large room any longer. Maybe they were frightened of the cops. Andrew had shown up at Sam's request and now was stationed at the entrance to the church as they scooped it out. She had always liked that young cop. Good guy, good cop.

She needed some air. Catherine walked around the desk, careful of her steps. Now that she was once again in the main room, she was certain no one else was up on this level with her. The door to the basement was in the same position it had been when her and Vega came back up. Curiosity got the best of her and Catherine walked back over to the door.

It was quiet. No voices come up, snaking over the stairs. It was an older building and there were plenty of things around to absorb the sound, but she didn't like this at all. Catherine looked up and saw Andrew watching her. She waved him over.

"I need you to watch this door. Let me know if someone comes out or goes in," she whispered to the younger man.

"Yes, Ma'am. Stepping out?"

"Just for a quick breather. Be back before you can miss me."

Andrew smiled at her as she walked away. He had always liked Catherine and had no problem working with her. Hell, she was hot. He had no issue with liking an older woman.

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This was upsetting. He was so close and this interruption was not going to help any. Those three men now had time to draw together and get their thoughts back in control. Tenner would have to get that blonde bitch as soon as he could. She was next.

He told the other four men to stay in the larger room, wanting to check on the CSI's behind the hidden door. Tenner winced as the door scrapped against the other stones as it opened. For a moment, he held his breath and listened hard for anyone running down the stairs. Nothing.

A shocked gasp left his lips as he took in the new room, "How did he get free?"

Grissom watched the other man rush into the room and crouch quickly by Nick's side. Wrinkled fingers felt along the Texan's throat, stopping and holding position for a few seconds. He could tell by Tenner's posture, Nick was still alive. The breath he didn't realize he had been holding rushed from his lungs.

It seemed that Warrick had noticed the same thing, but he still didn't want that man touching his partner anymore, "Get away from him."

"You didn't answer my question. How is he free?"

"You can fuck with him all you want, but Nick is stronger than you will ever be. He fought through everything you did to him and he is going to survive!"

Tenner smiled cruelly, "You aren't free yet. He is passed out, dying here right now. You can talk all you want Mr. Brown, but it doesn't work with me. You are scared and covering it by tough words, tough act."

Warrick growled, "You know nothing about us!"

"It doesn't take much to learn a person. You watch their behavior, the way the carry themselves. Everyone has a certain way to live their life. All you have to do is watch and observe for a short amount of time. I know enough about all of you, the files helped."

"Observation is only a small part of learning people," Grissom interjected.

"And you would know? From my reading, no one seems to think much of your people skills, your people abilities. There is nothing you can say to me to make me fear you."

"But the thing is, you already do. You fear all of us. By hurting us, lowering us below you, you prove you are afraid."

Tenner clenched his fist and stomped to stand directly in front of Grissom. The CSI had a small quirk on the right side of his mouth, eyes inquiring. He was asking for an answer to his outrageous allegations. Tenner would make sure he got them.

The fist came hard and fast. It was almost scary to know such power could come from someone like Tenner. Grissom didn't think the other man had it in him to do it. But the throbbing in his cheek was enough to prove it. The other fist hit with just as much power.

"Hey!" Warrick shouted.

Four hits later, Tenner stopped himself. His hands throbbed from this new action. Tenner had never struck another human in his entire life. With this pain in the joints, it was a mystery why so many men resorted to this action of violence. But, taking a few more deep breaths, looking up at Grissom's split lit and red cheeks, it made it almost worth it.

"You are not in charge here. Nothing is yours in this room. Not even those two men. They belong to me here. You need to accept that."

"You don't own us man! Nick and me are not your property."

"I have to disagree Warrick. I can see by your eyes that you have belonged to me for a short time now."

Warrick was brought up short. He had been trying to hide the affects of the toxin, but didn't think to worry about his eyes. Now Grissom was looking at him, studying him. From the expression of his boss, he didn't look good.

"How are you doing, Warrick?" Grissom ignored the crazy man in the room.

Only a shake of the head was his answer.

"Playing it tough. Figures. You always were the one to stand out with such a trait," Tenner sneered as he walked over to Nick, "He isn't dying quickly enough. Can't let him walk away from this. My gods need him. He will be perfect in this battle."

A shoed foot shoved at the down man. Nothing happened. Warrick watched for anything, Nick's breathing didn't even change. He wanted to scream out his frustration at everything. Then get out of this damn chair and kick some ass.

"Enough of this. Even if they find you down here, Nick will no longer draw breath." Tenner muttered almost to himself.

The black bag was still in the room and it was Tenner's destination now. Grissom watched his every move and didn't like how this was going. He knew Tenner was desperate now and wouldn't hold back. It would be nice to see what the man was digging for in that bag.

Tenner had always like the weight of stainless steel in his hands. The six inch dagger sat nicely in his palm. His father had given him this on his twelfth birthday. It was from World War One, a German blade. Much blood had been spilt by this knife.

He stood tall and showed the weapon off with pride to the wide eyes of the two CSI's. Their shouts of denial and anger were nothing to him anymore. Only the man laying flat on the floor was of interest. Tenner could almost fell the warm glow of his gods shining down on him.

"Have you ever heard that old Chinese proverb about danger and knives?" Tenner looked directly at Grissom for this one.

"Fuck that! Put the damn thing away!" Warrick didn't want to waste time of stupid things like proverbs when there was the prospect Nick would be dead within a minute.

Grissom actually glared at Warrick, "Quiet."

"Ah, I think that must be a first for you. Your golden boy. Your perfect CSI. If I hadn't read the files and learned about you three, this wouldn't be a shock for me. But now, shouldn't it be Nick you are yelling at? Isn't it almost always him screwing up?"

"You know nothing. We are not simply words on paper. There is more than you could ever deal with. Nick is stronger than you ever will be. Warrick is braver than you could dream about."

Tenner wasn't impressed, "A mountain of knives and a sea of fire. It has been said that the only thing a knife truly hungers for is blood, and it takes much to sate it. He comes with incense in one hand, in the other a spear."

The elderly man stopped for a dramatic effect, though it was lost to Grissom and Warrick. They could care less for theatrics at that moment. All Warrick knew was Tenner was slowly walking over towards his partner.

"That is what they are made for. To hurt, to kill. Tell me something I don't know."

"But you see Mr. Brown. Knives have many aspects in the world besides mindless killing. But I am afraid none of those reasons will play in here. My gods are growing impatient and your cop friends are snooping in areas best left alone. It is time to end this. Nick dies now. Honey in his mouth, knives in his heart."

Warrick threw his body forward at the man as he moved to kneel by Nick's prone body. It caused the chair to tip forward, throwing the tall CSI He grunted as his upper body knocked into Tenner, tipping the crazy man down. His knees slammed hard into the cement, the seat of the chair bruising his flesh. But the knife was away from Nick.

"You fool!" Tenner scrambled to his knees, kicking at Warrick. The black man was still tied to the chair, but he was now leaning forward on the ground. His dagger had been knocked from his hand at the hit. Tenner looked for it and saw it about three feet to his right.

Grissom watched as Tenner pawed at the knife while Warrick tried to move pinned between floor and cement. It was a losing battle for his CSI. Tenner soon had his hand wrapped around the handle and pulled the steel towards his body.

"Warrick!"

The blade swung out, directly towards his face. Warrick threw his weight to the side, the chair going with. All the air was knocked from his chest at the awkward fall. But the knife didn't reach his flesh at all.

"That was very stupid of you Mr. Brown. Once I finish with Nick, you will see no more light."

Lying on his side, Warrick was now helpless once again, "No! Don't!"

"No more words to save any of you."

Tenner crawled over to Nick and leaned forward. His lips rested about an inch from the Texan's ear as he reached out his free hand to touch the clammy skin. It would be at least another thirty minutes for the toxin to finish the job. He knew he didn't have the kind of time anymore.

Light reflected off the blade as he raised it, looking towards the ceiling, "Deimos, Phobos. Great gods of Fear and Panic. I offer you this sacrifice and hope it pleases you. He dies in fear. He dies in pain."

Time stood still as the blade cut through the air. It was almost beautiful. Warrick opened his mouth, but sound was caught in his throat. A shout sounded from Grissom, but it was not enough. A rip, slurp, and thud filled the room now.

A laugh sounded from Tenner as he removed his hand from the hilt, blade buried completely in Nick's lower back. It quivered a little from the action. Nick never moved. Warrick roared out in denial.

TBC…