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: Hello all! Had such a bad day at work, decided to come home and post another chapter! I know, here you all were wishing to wait until tomorrow. Sorry, but I have to disappoint with this a day early! Though, I don't know if it will make anyone too happy. Yeah, we'll see. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. Let me know what you think of this newest mess. Haven't decided how nice I want to be with posting the next chapter. Have to think on it. But I will see you all soon. Bye!

Title: Poisonous Fear

By: duffshel

#23

The doors to the conversation van were open, sunlight streaming in. Detective Vartann held his gun steady at the man sitting in the back seat. The jelly from his doughnut was dripping on his jeans. Vartann would have laughed if not for the scared boy tied up at his feet.

Sam Vega cooed to the boy and tried to get him to stop moving in order to attack the ropes binding his small limbs together. Sweat ran down his arms, tears on his face. There was a large brown smug on the boy's cheek. Vega knew this boy. His blood had been left at his house.

"Miguel Johnson?"

It was enough to catch the boy's attention. He tried to mumble around the dirty cloth digging into the sides of his mouth. Sam reached out and laid a heavy hand on Miguel's lower leg. It shook within his grasp. He squeezed enough to prove to Miguel he wasn't going to hurt him.

"It's okay. We're here to help you. I'm Sam Vega. I was at your house. Do you remember me?"

Miguel nodded his head, eyes still wide. He cringed as the new man entered the van, gun out. It was clear he was another cop and was here to help him. The gun was pointed at the bad man so it couldn't be all that bad. But they could get this bad tasting gag out of his mouth.

Vartann grabbed the guy's arm and pulled him forward, "Move. You're under arrest and I have a lot of questions for you. Watch the boy!"

The cop forced the man over his body. Miguel whimpered. He didn't want them anywhere near them anymore. They were bad men and hurt him. Plus his friend, Nick. When the group had left earlier, they were joking and said Nick was dead. It had made Miguel cry even harder.

Vega watched as Vartann forced the man from the van to kneel in the dirt. Cuffs were swiftly secured around the scrawny wrists. He listened to the other detective bark off the rights and what was about to happen. It was hard not to jump in and help.

Hearing another muffled gasp, Vega turned his attention back to Miguel. Keeping his hands completely in the boy's line of vision, he moved into the van. He reached towards the cloth, his fingers gripping it carefully. It slid free from the white teeth and immediately, Miguel started speaking.

"Help me! They're bad men! Where's my mom? They killed Nick! Help me! Take me to my mommy!"

It was quick and full of gasps of air, but Sam was able to catch a familiar name, "Nick! Where's Nick?"

Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head. Everything was rushing hard into his head and it was hurting. His mom would make it all better. She always did. He wanted his mommy.

"Where's my mommy?"

"Miguel. I need you to answer me. Where's Nick?"

Lips trembled, tears ran down the old tracks once again. Vartann watched from the side lines, holding his breath. This boy knew where Nick was. He may know where Warrick and Grissom were as well. They may all be together. It was hard not to yell for the boy to answer the damn question. But Vartann knew better than to scare the kid.

"He's…"

Clapping shoes on the hard ground caught his attention and he stopped speaking. Miguel turned in fear to look at the new arrivals. New people were not good things anymore. They hurt him and his mom when they came to his house. These two women didn't look scary, though.

Catherine almost fell on loose gravel as she stopped to take in the scene before her. A man on his knees, hands behind his back. The small boy with tears almost drowning his face. And Vartann and Sam looking at them in surprise.

"What!" Sara breathed from her position at Catherine's left.

Both women suddenly jumped forward and walked quickly to stand besides Vartann. The man in cuffs didn't look up at them, but he did shift uncomfortably. It was the boy that caught Catherine's attention. He looked terrified.

"Catherine, this is Miguel Johnson."

"Oh Miguel," Catherine said sadly as she moved forward to help Sam remove the rest of his bindings.

"Where's my mommy?"

"It's okay. Your mommy isn't here," Catherine slipped into mother mode as she swept the dark hair from the dirty face, "But you are safe now."

Vega coughed to gain attention, "He knows where Nick is."

Sara gasped and moved forward. The boy looked scared at her sudden movement, but she only slowed the down a little. The tension of everything since she had gotten back was rising and overpowering her. She wanted answers.

"Where?"

Miguel shifted under the dark haired woman's stare, "They're in the basement."

All four were stunned. There was only that one room and Catherine had looked into in herself. It was only the one space. Her boys were not down there. Only Tenner and his so-called followers.

"They're not down there sweetie. I was down in the basement and only Mr. Tenner was there."

Miguel winced at the man's name. He would never be able to hear it without being afraid anymore. The man had been nice to him at church, even gave him candy. Now he had hurt him and killed his friend Nick. He would never go to church again.

"No, they are there. He killed Nick! Down those stairs."

Vartann turned to look back at the building. There was a back entrance, but now the detective noticed old cellar doors hidden by overgrown bushes. They weren't locked. He walked over and tested the handle. One of the doors swung out. The hinges were oiled and well kept.

Vega moved over to stand by the other cop as they both looked down into the depths. There were old stairs covered in dust and mold. But there were plenty of footprints leading down. Oddly, there were also a few paw prints as well. Vartann looked over at him and nodded his head.

"I'll wait up here with the perp. Sara, can you start to process the van?" Vega pulled out his radio and hit the button, "Kehls, I need you in the back on the building. Now."

The younger woman bristled at the suggestion, but a glance at Catherine told her she was staying up here. Sara reached out her hand towards Miguel. He hesitated, but took it within his sweaty grasp. Once Sam walked back over towards him, he felt even better.

Catherine walked over to Vartann's side and pulled out her flashlight. The two started down the stairs, the gun leading the way. It was quiet. No one was down in this hallway, but they kept walking. The walls were close and they had to walk in a single line.

The light beam swept from side to side along the dusty cement, but there was no sign of blood. But someone had been through here recently. Lots of someones. Catherine pulled at the collar of her shirt as the air got thicker. The smell was beginning to bother her senses.

Vartann stopped before an old stone door. He frowned as he looked around it for something to grab onto. There was no knob or handle on this side. His fingers followed the grove. Catherine moved closer to him, but he ignored her. There was a gap he could work his fingers in.

"I need you to step back."

Once she as for enough out of the way, Vartann planted a foot on the wall and pulled. His fingers strained with the pull, but the door was moving. It was hard and he grunted. Sweat beaded up on his lower lip. After what seemed like an eternity, it was open. Musty air rushed them and neither missed the overtone of blood.

Catherine was ahead of him before he had anytime to process it. Her heart stopped as she adjusted to what she was seeing. If this kept up, she was going to pass out. The gasp from Vartann behind her forced her body into motion and she walked forward slowly.

Nick was lying face down on the floor, blood seeping out from under his body. It was unclear if he was still breathing. Catherine couldn't bring herself to check. She forced her eyes on Warrick. The man was on his side, still tied to a chair. His eyes were glossy and his breathing harsh. Something was wrong with the man.

Grissom was the one she physically went to first. Looking back on this, she knew she would kick herself for not checking the other two, but somehow, Grissom demanded her attention first. His closed eyes and defeated look was so unusual to see. Her hand was shaky as she reached forward and placed it against his slightly damp cheek.

He cringed back a little, head dropped some more, "Gil?"

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

The soft voice broke through his haze. It wasn't the voice of Tenner. He knew this voice. Grissom forced his eyes opened and looked up into the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Catherine looked scared for him, but all he could feel was complete joy at that moment. It, of course, came crashing down.

He heard shuffling and looked downward to see Vartann reach out towards Nick. The blood was further than he remembered. Grissom kept his eyes locked in the cop's hands as he turned Nick over enough to get a clean line towards the down Texan's throat. The removal of his bonds was barely noticed. Grissom didn't move from his chair.

"Catherine? How?"

"Shh, don't worry about it. We have you now. Sara and Sam are up waiting for us. You're safe now."

"Nicky!"

Vartann raised his head, leaving his hand on the still man, "He lives. But he needs medical help…yesterday."

Warrick shifted at the voices, but couldn't get his vocal cords to work correctly. Words were beyond his grasp. Only grunts and moans were what he could give to his friends. It was enough to get Vartann to walk over to him and press a warm hand on his heated cheek.

"Hey, it's okay man. Just hold on. Can you say anything?"

He shook his head. His body was warm and the world was starting to get fuzzy. The toxin was taking over and Warrick knew it. Vartann needed to move now. Or he was dead. Nick already was.

"Warrick! Look at me! Stay with us. Nick is still here and we need you to remain as well."

The words wafted over his head, but Grissom caught them, "He's poisoned. Get an ambulance. Now!"

The detective nodded and ran from the room. Catherine looked around, but didn't see another way into the room. There was a frog tank, a black bag, and various cloths in the room. Other people had been here, but no one had left that she had seen.

"Gil, where's Tenner?"

"He got away. He left. Through that door."

Catherine turned to look, but couldn't tell which door. To be honest, she didn't care. Tenner had gotten away, right under their noses. There would be hell to pay, but not now.

It was hard to see her boss brought down this far. Grissom was supposed to be their rock. The hard place when things got rough. Now he had lost his faith. Pain was evident on his face. And he still hadn't made any sort of move to leave his chair. Catherine found it hard to take.

"Check on Nicky," Grissom almost begged.

The blonde CSI forced herself away from the older man and turned towards Nick. The hilt of the dagger was still evident even in the slight angle Vartann had given his body. His face was more visible and Catherine didn't like what she could see. His skin was white, almost transparent. Her hand rested gently on his cheek. It was cool, yet sweaty. She could now feel the slight tremors racking his entire being.

"Oh Nick. Please don't give up on us," Catherine leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Keep fighting. Show 'em what you're made of."

There was no movement. Not that she expected anything. Catherine turned her face away from Nick's head to face Warrick. His glassy eyes were drilling into her and she moved over to him. She made short work of the ropes and he thudded to the ground from his odd position in that chair.

"Warrick? How're you feeling?"

His tongue was heavy, his lips slack, "Hurts. Nick?"

Her hands brushed through his short dreaded hair in a soothing manner. Warrick didn't want it. She should be by Nick, keeping him with them. His partner was bleeding out. The drug hadn't taken over his thoughts yet and all he could see was that knife plunging downward, over and over. He wanted to scream his anger, but it wasn't being allowed.

The world was getting grayer by the minute, but he didn't know how to tell Catherine this. Words were being mumbled into his ear, but he couldn't get enough energy to push away. At some point, Detective Vartann had returned. All Warrick could make out from him was that the ambulances were on the way. Doctors would be ready for them when they arrived.

He didn't like the idea of more than one ambulance. Warrick didn't want to let Nick out of his sight. His vision was down to a simple tunnel and the end, Nick. His brother hadn't moved and the look on Vartann's face did nothing, but scare him more.

Grissom also saw the worry and fear coloring the cop's face. Any questions he had were kept to himself for he didn't want anything else to bear down on Warrick. The man was fading almost too quickly now. It was clear to the supervising CSI that Warrick was about to lose his senses soon.

The older man's breath caught in his throat. Pain that he couldn't figure out was clenching at his heart. His boys were both lying at the floor at his feet. That thought was finally enough to force him into action. Falling hard to his knees, he crawled over to kneel by Nick.

The blood was warm, but rapidly cooling against the cloth of his pants. His hands hovered over Nick's back for a moment before he carefully placed one on Nick's upper back. There was a slight movement up and down, but not enough to completely satisfy the man.

"Oh god Nicky, Warrick, please forgive me."

His head fell forward enough so his forehead was resting against the back of Nick's head. Nothing could hold in his pain anymore. Soft sobs escaped him and he let it fall hard. He could hear the others, but didn't let them interrupt him. He needed this as much as Nick did.

Catherine watched her boss, her friend fall apart while leaning over one of her boys. It was hard to take and the tears streaked down her face. Her hands remained buried in Warrick's hair. Touching at least one of them was helping to ground her to the present. A gasping whimper left her lips and she removed her gaze from Grissom and Nick.

"Warrick!"

It was shrieked and enough to draw Grissom up. He watched the blonde CSI scramble to take Warrick's pulse. The man's eyes were shut, his body completely sagging. The frantic movements proved that Warrick had lost his battle. Both their lives were now completely in the void. Grissom shook his head in denial, ignoring the hot tears still streaming down his face.

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

Sara held her breath as she waited for the paramedics to exit the cellar. Vega had held her back when she tried to follow them. No one had told her anything about what was happening. It was driving her insane. She wanted to pull out her long, dark locks.

Quick glances at her watch told her the minutes that passed. They had gone down into that pit only seven minutes ago. Her heels started to rise and fall from the ground with each breath she took. It looked pathetic, but Sara didn't care. She would yell at Andrew later for any jokes he may make.

Miguel looked up at her with large eyes. The boy had refused to be taken away until he saw what happened to his friends in the basement. He tried to ignore the woman next to him. She was making him more and more nervous. Now she was literally bouncing on her feet. It made him want to do the same.

Just when Sara was about to burst her way down into that dark hole, someone yelled something up. Another one of the paramedics that was waiting by the bus jumped into action. The gurney wheels squeaked as the man in the white uniform rolled it over towards the stairway. Officer Kehls moved to assist when the gurney got caught up on a rock.

It was Warrick they brought out first. Catherine was at his side, holding his hand tightly. The brace board rested easily on the gurney. Sara moved closer as they strapped him down. Those green eyes were hidden behind dark eyelids. The raw power of Warrick was gone. This was nothing more than a little boy strapped down. One would never know he towered over most people from this view.

"Where's Nick?"

Catherine turned her head at the soft question for Sara. Both women noticed the groan and movement of Warrick's head at the mention of the other CSI's name. Catherine took a deep breath to fight back the new round of tears threatening to fall.

"There were some…complications. He's coming up next. Grissom's with him."

"Is he dead?" Sara moved close to the other woman and kept her voice low.

"No. But they need to get him to the hospital. Warrick too."

"What happened to him?"

"Poisoned. Same toxin used on everyone else. It was called ahead and Palms said they could deal with it. Should be okay if they get him stabilized soon."

Sara nodded her head. At some point Miguel had moved closer to them. She opened her hand on reflex when she felt him grab at her fingers. His fingers were tiny in her hand, but she needed the comfort in the action almost more than the small boy did.

They all watched as Warrick was wheeled into the ambulance. Catherine gave a shaky smile to Sara as she moved to follow. "I'll see you at the hospital. Call Greg and fill him in."

Any reply was cut off by the arrival of a pale Grissom, "Is Catherine with Warrick?"

"Yeah."

Grissom nodded, but didn't say anything else. His eyes turned away from the slowly disappearing ambulance to look at the slow arrival of Nick on his yellow board. The Texan was lying on his stomach, hands resting at his sides. Sara gasped at the sight of the knife still in his back.

A new gurney appeared and the man was lowered carefully. The paramedics were discussing procedures and protocols as they got ready to move the man into the bus. Grissom patted Sara on the arm before he moved to go to the hospital with his CSI.

"His heart is dangerously slow. Still bleeding from the wound. Palms says to leave it in to minimize it. They will remove it there."

"Oxygen level is too low. Have to up the flow."

"Get a new bag. He's already drained this one."

"Paddles are ready. Should be at Palms in ten."

The paramedics didn't try to hide any of their conversation. In fact, Grissom was positive they didn't even realize he was present. He kept a tight grip on Nick's right calf as they were jostled on the way to the hospital. The solid beep didn't register to his brain until the panic erupted in front of him.

"He's flat-lining! We need to move faster!"

"Starting resuscitation procedures!"

Grissom could do nothing, but stare. They cut away the cloth of Nick's shirt as they shifted the dying man onto his side. A mask was placed over his face. It was the only thing moving the man's chest.

TBC…