A/N: okay, i admit that i feel just a teeny bit bad about leaving you guys hanging like that on the last chapter, but what can i say: i just can't seem to help myself!lol okay, so here it is: chapter 11 --- (a part of this next chappy goes out espeically to sherryw because of the review given by her for one of the recent chapters that inspired the idea for one of the more minor characters that comes in in this chapter- sherryw, you'll probably know which review i'm talking about once you read the special inclusion!)lol i hope you like it:):):) --- cause there's more to come!(hinthint)

Chapter 11 – Hold On

For a second, Greg couldn't speak, didn't know how to react; he could only stare open-mouthed at Nick's still face. It was only when the ambulances arrived and he was made to move so that the paramedics could work that the terrifying truth hit him full force.

"Nick – Nick!" Sara and Grissom tried to steer him towards the stretcher from the second ambulance, but he resisted, with surprising strength considering his injuries. "Get off me! I'm not going anywhere! Nick!" He tried to pull himself out of their grasps, tried to move back towards Nick; he had to be there for him, had to convince him that he couldn't let himself die like this, that he had to hold on, to fight for himself just a little longer…

The female paramedic felt his neck for a pulse.

"Get the crash cart!" she shouted to the man, who did as asked while she quickly cut away Nick's shirt to get to bare skin. The defib-paddles charged, she rubbed them together. "Clear!" She pressed them to his chest, the charge causing Nick's upper-torso to rise briefly off the ground. We're going to make it out of this.

Again the medic felt for a pulse, but shook her head.

"Recharging…clear!" The effect of the second attempt was much the same as the first, and Greg pushed past Grissom, one hand clutching his side as he walked closer, tears starting to pour down his face.

"Common Nick," he choked. "Please…please…

I promise.

"Okay, one more time – clear!" The strength of the charge caused Nick's chest to jerk higher into the air than both previous attempts combined, but this time there were rewarded with relief. "We've got a pulse! Let's get him in the back!" As they started to load Nick quickly onto the stretcher and move him towards the ambulance, Catherine right beside them, Greg moved to join her, but Grissom took a firm hold of his arm. He tried to pull away, but Grissom refused to let go.

"Griss, common, let go. I'm going with him to the hospital," he sobbed, pulling harder.

He wasn't sure what to do; Greg obviously needed to bet taken care of but he didn't even seem to realize it, and he couldn't force Greg onto the stretcher without seriously hurting him. He decided it was best to stick to words.

"Yeah, you're definitely going to the hospital, but on a stretcher Greg." He tried again to help the paramedics from the second ambulance to usher him to the stretcher, but Greg pulled away again, only for his vision to blur with another stab in his ribs. Crying out, he fell to his knees, making no move to get to Nick but at the same time showing no intention of returning to where the stretcher waited. Sara knelt down beside him, taking him gently by the arm while trying to get him to look at her.

"There's nothing more you can do for him Greg, except to get yourself taken care of," she whispered. He knew she was right but wished she wasn't – the last thing he wanted to do was to take a joy ride on a stretcher – he wanted to be there for Nick, but again, he knew she was right; there was absolutely nothing he could do. His eyes met hers and he could see the truth of her words written there as well, and he sighed, a deep, tired sigh of resignation that she hated hearing but chose not to comment on.

He finally relented, allowing himself to be helped onto the stretcher and loaded into the back of the second ambulance with Sara and one medic who proceeded to insert an I-V line into his hand before laying a blanket over him and strapping him in, loosely of course so as not to cause his ribs any more pain.

In a second, there were off and speeding to the hospital behind Nick and Catherine, Sara taking a firm hold of the hand closest to her while the medic took a look at the bullet-graze on his leg. Greg had closed his eyes as if in sleep, but Sara had a feeling that it would be a while before he did anything of the sort. She stared sadly at him, wondering how long it would be before he would truly be able to feel at ease, to be able to put this day behind him, if he could at all…

She shook that thought out of her head and closed her eyes, holding Greg's hand to the side of her face. She would help him to get over this, she would do it if she had to go without rest for a month; Greg needed her, and she wasn't going to let him down.

Greg had been looking up at her in silence for a long time, practically able to see what she was thinking as she sat there with her eyes closed, his hand clutched in hers, her brow furrowed. He suddenly remembered something that he'd been meaning to say and that he didn't want to put off any longer, not after what had just happened. Quietly due to his aching throat, he got her attention.

"Hey Sara?" Her eyes suddenly opened and she quickly turned her gaze back to his face, which gave off an air of determination.

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" Sara smiled. After everything that had happened, he was going to be all right, call it a hunch. She gripped his hand tighter with both of hers.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Before the doors had even closed, Catherine was sitting on the bench at Nick's side, grasping his hand while speaking quietly.

"It's going to be okay Nicki. You're going to be okay. We're on our way to the hospital – all you gotta do now is hold on, okay? Just stay with me, stay with me." She didn't know how long they'd been driving when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the woman paramedic looking at her steadily.

"Ma'am, are you all right?" she asked, her eyes soft but her tone mildly concerned. For a second Catherine only stared at her, blinking rapidly as though just realizing that she was not alone in the ambulance.

"W-What do you mean?" she stumbled. The woman moved closer to her.

"Ma'am, you're hyperventilating," she said slowly, placing her other hand on the other shoulder. "I need you to calm down and take deep breaths."

For the first time, Catherine noticed how dry her throat had become, her head beginning to feel fuzzy as she willed herself to calm down, unsure if it was working considering she hadn't noticed anything wrong in the first place. Apparently it hadn't worked because now the woman had pulled Nick's hand out of hers and had taken both of her hands in her own, forcing Catherine's body to turn though her eyes never left Nick.

"What's your name?" She started, having once again forgotten the she was not alone back there, all her attention having been focussed on the slow rhythm of the lines on the heart monitor, on the reassuring rising and falling of Nick's chest. She stumbled to answer, still not looking away.

"C-Catherine." He looked so peaceful – had it not been for the countless cuts, bruises and bloody gauze on his arm and side, it would seem as though he were merely asleep, not near death, not having just died for a few minutes…

"My name's Sheryl," she said calmly. "Catherine – Catherine, look at me. I need you to look at me," she insisted, and Catherine's gaze swung around to meet hers. "That's good – now, look me in the eye, right here, and focus on taking a deep breath in through your nose, and exhale through your mouth – can you do that for me?" Catherine nodded stiffly and Sheryl smiled encouragingly. "Good. Okay, ready? Deep breath in – " Sheryl took a deep breath and Catherine did her best to follow suit. " – and exhale," she said before letting the breath leave through her mouth, watching patiently as the CSI did the same. "Good; now another – deep breath in… and exhale; very good."

Slowly Catherine felt her head clear and could feel her muscles relaxing a little as she continued for a few more minutes to breathe in and out deeply, at last returning Sheryl's small smile.

"Now I know you're scared Catherine, but right now Nick's condition is stable – our biggest worry was slowing the blood-loss, which we've already done, meaning that for now, he's just fine." She paused, her eyes scanning over Catherine's face. "Hm, you on the other hand have a few scratches that could use some cleaning," she said, starting to pull her hands away. At the movement, Catherine suddenly emitted a small cry, her breaths becoming shaky as she grimaced. Sheryl's eyes shot to the woman's hands and she lifted them up with her own, her gaze scouring her fingers before finally stopping on the left index. She looked back up at Catherine who looked at best exasperated. "And from what I can tell, your finger could stand to be immobilized, at least until we can get an X-ray on it," she said reassuringly as she taped it to a splint before breaking out cotton swabs, disinfectant, and a few small Band-Aids.

The rest of the ride back to town passed fairly quickly, Sheryl making small talk to keep Catherine calm, Catherine answering back as much as possible, her eyes, despite Sheryl's reassurances, never leaving the heart monitor.

It was dark outside by the time the four healthy CSI's along with Brass were finally able to sit down in the hospital waiting room, having just finished filling out hospital admission and treatment paperwork and grabbing a cup of coffee a piece from the cafeteria upstairs. Greg's parents had arrived shortly thereafter, having been notified by Grissom from the nurses' station phone and wasted no time in speeding over, practically leaving their police escort behind in the dust that the wheels of their BMW kicked up. Grissom had also called Nick's parents, though they had a bit further to travel and would therefore be arriving somewhat later, having given Grissom permission through the nurses to be kept updated on Nick's progress in their stead.

At the moment, they were all silent and listening when Grissom asked Catherine about Nick's condition.

"Well, he did fine all the way here, but flat-lined again in surgery, or so I'm told," she said meekly, staring blankly at her cup. "He's been done for a little over half-an hour now." Sara, who had sat next to her, rubbed her eyes with her free hand, glad that Greg wasn't here to hear this – the last thing he needed in his condition was to get worked up again. Nodding, Grissom then turned to Sara.

"So how's Greg?" Her reaction to the question was much the same as Catherine's as she answered, uncomfortably aware of the anxious stares of Paul and Maria a few chairs away from her. She took a small sip of the over-caffinated sludge in an attempt to calm her nerves a little before speaking.

"He's got four broken ribs, a concussion, a bullet-grazed leg, a badly bruising throat, rope-burned and cut wrists, and several other cuts…" She looked up at Grissom. "To answer your question: not too bad, considering what him and Nick have been through today." Each of them, even his parents, smiled slightly: they had been somewhat lucky – at least in the sense that they were still alive, breathing, and in one piece.

At that moment, a female doctor entered the waiting room.

"I'm Dr. Collins. Are you the kin of Nick Stokes?" Grissom stood as he answered.

"Nick's parents are going to be coming in from Texas, so we're filling in until they get here. How is he?"

"Well, Mr. Stokes has come out of surgery and has been moved to the ICU as a precaution against post-surgery complications, though he is expected to make a full recovery. Now, he still hasn't woken up, most likely due to the large amount of blood-loss as well as the severity of the gunshot wound, but at this point all we can do is wait." Though nervous about his current condition, they all breathed deep in relief: he was going to be all right.

"Kin of Greg Sanders?" Greg's parents stood up from their chairs, holding onto each other for support.

"We're his parents," Paul finally managed to say. Dr. Collins smiled.

"Greg is going to be just fine. He did however sustain four broken ribs, a minor concussion, several cuts and bruises, and slight damage to his windpipe, but has regained consciousness and is on his way to full recovery." She looked at each of them in the room. "Now as I understand it, the both of them are in some type of law enforcement, and as such are going to have to be on a lengthy leave after they are discharged from the hospital, then restricted duty to avoid any accidents with only partly healed injuries. Understood?" Everyone present nodded and she smiled again. "I'm glad to see that you are cooperative – Mr. Sanders was quite adamant about the idea of being back in the field in no more than two weeks." Grissom, Sara, and even his parents smiled, Warrick not quite stifling a snort – that was Greg for you. Dr. Collins continued. "Mr. Stokes is in room 142 and is only allowed one person in his room at a time, but I'm confidant that we'll be able to transfer him to the general ward later on tonight. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, Greg is still being treated in room 120, but feel free to keep him company. He also asked for someone named Sara Sidle." She waited until Sara slowly stood.

"That's me," she said quietly. Dr. Collins nodded.

"You may accompany the Sanders – Greg's been asking to see you since he regained consciousness." The others couldn't help but smile as Sara blushed and left the room with Greg's parents, looking back at them before she closed the door.

"If Nick wakes up, tell him I'll be down to see him in a little while."

"We'll let him know," Grissom responded, still smiling.

And with that, she left them to walk to Nick's room alone, Warrick being the first to go in, taking a seat beside his bed as Grissom closed the door and sat down next to Catherine who was leaning forward in her chair, her fingers fiddling idly as she stared at nothing in particular. Just as he was about to close his eyes however, something about Catherine's hands caught his eye and he leaned forward a little to get a better look before staring in surprise at her left index finger. It was a second before she felt him looking at her and glanced at his face, following his gaze to her left hand and sighing at her finger, which was taped securely into a brace with medical tape.

"What happened?" he asked with concern. Catherine sighed again.

"Found out in the ambulance that I had a broken finger, probably from when we were digging Nick out," she said nonchalantly. "They X-rayed it when I got here and are going to set it properly in about an hour, but Sheryl taped it up for me en route before she cleaned up my face too." She indicated the few Band-Aids dotting the edge of her face and cheek.

"Who's Sheryl?" he asked curiously.

"The paramedic that saved Nick's life." At this Grissom remained silent, both of them picturing the act in their heads, neither one grateful for the memory though incredibly grateful for the one who had given it a happy ending.

For a while, neither of them spoke, both content to simply sit and listen to the bustle of people working around them and to enjoy each other's company, letting the fact that the nightmare had ended seep through them, finally allowing them to breath easy.

Both of them looked up as Nick's door opened and Warrick stepped out.

"Who's up next?" he asked, holding the door to Nick's room open. Grissom looked over at Catherine who seemed to get his question through the look on his face.

"Go on in Gil," she said with a smile. "He'll be happy to hear your voice – he's probably already tired of mine from the ride in." She chuckled at her own comment and he smiled in thanks before giving his seat to Warrick, taking a deep breath, and entering the room.

A/N: i was going to finish it all up in this chapter, but 1) it would've been a little long, and 2) i like my stories to have an even number of chapters!lol- so review away, cause i'm pretty sure that the next chapter is gonna be the last of this little tale:):)