Title: And the Thunder Rolls

By: duffshel

Author's Note: Okay, here we go with some more. I have had some people comment on the tornados in Vegas, and believe me; it was hard to do research on this topic. But, this being fan fiction, I took some liberties to make this work. But, I'm a little nervous about this chapter (well, the entire story really). I don't know. This story just doesn't like me I guess. Hope you all enjoy it. We get to see all the guys and get to see what mess they are in now. But don't worry, not going to be over quite yet. So, I'll try to update by….the end of this weekend if everything goes well. Let me know if you like how this is coming together or if I should stop now. :) Thanks again. Bye!

#3: And the lightnin' strikes…

The entire world seemed to be a snow globe with glass that was way too constricting. Everything was in complete chaos. This is what must be the end of the world. Greg held his hands tightly over his head, knees tucked tight to his chest. His hands stung from the tiny cuts caused by the flying chunks of window. But it was his ears that were completely burning.

He kept his eyes tightly shut. All he remembered seeing was the windows shattering inward and the air outside them spinning faster than should have been allowed. As for the people in the room, no recollection of them at that moment. No, he didn't want to see anything else. If he lived through this, he didn't need the images for his nightmares.

Screams sounded all around him, human and natural. His body shriveled in closer, closer to bending in on itself. Something slammed into his shoulders. Greg whimpered in pain at the sudden jolt of new sensory input. This was not he was expecting from this case at all.

The roar got louder in his ear drums as the seconds ticked on. It almost seemed as if the wind was going to be able to lift him and carry him away. Something crumbled around him, on him. His skin was getting wet. This was enough to get Greg to open his eyes and peak out between his arms.

Brass was next to him, but covered with books and other debris, some of which looked to be leaves. He couldn't see any of the others from this viewpoint, but wasn't about to lift his head anymore to look. Twisting slightly, Greg looked to where he remembered the windows. The wall was beginning to come down. And quickly. Something violent and gray was throwing its full weight against the human made structure and completely winning. Rain whipped in with a vengeance.

Greg yelled out and reached for Brass. They had to get farther away from this. The detective didn't say a word and didn't fight the younger man. Greg scrambled on his knees towards the door to the hallway. He had to duck as a table flew over their heads. It shattered into pieces into the far wall. Someone was now pinned under its reduced mass.

"Greg! Move!" Brass yelled as best he could over the lion in the room.

"Trying!"

If there had been time, Greg would have rolled his eyes at the comment. 'What did the cop think he was trying to do? He couldn't do that and fight tables at the same time!'

It was only a few feet left to the wooden door though it might have well been the entire Sahara Desert. Greg pushed himself harder to reach it. Placing his hand against the grain to push himself up slightly, Greg could feel the door shaking against its lock and hinges. Brass didn't wait before reaching his own hand up and turning the knob after losing grip only once.

Both men fell hard into the hallway. Brass was the one to pull himself together quick enough to throw the door back. The dull click of the lock was nonexistent, but he knew it happened. It was a small barrier from the hell inside, but he was willing to put anything in the way of that storm and his person. And he was partial to Greg. Didn't want to lose the former lab rat quite yet.

The roar of the storm was still clear as day within the hallway. Gusts of air still rushed through the skinny corridor. The wind was working its way in through any orifice that was open enough for it to slip in. It threatened to follow them anywhere they headed. New shattering glass sounded from areas further down the hallway.

"Come on. We got to move!"

Greg barely got his feet underneath him as Brass ripped him upward by the collar of his shirt. His hand unconsciously rubbed at the water coating his face and hair. He realized quickly that they were heading to the band room door. The room was larger and didn't have any windows. They would be safe in there.

The door was shaking slightly, but neither man put any thought to it. Their friends were in the room. Brass reached for the handle and twisted it to open. But it wasn't swinging open on easy hinges. The cop frowned, "Well, what the hell!"

"What?"

"Damn thing won't open. Only safe room in the place and something's in the way."

Brass threw his weight against the wood. It was enough to dislodge the blockage. But Brass stopped before he moved even a foot into the room. Not that he had all that much choice against the wind pounding on them. The room was coming completely in on itself. This was not a safe place at all.

Greg's jaw dropped. The wall had completely rearranged itself with half of itself completely within the room. Music stands were on their sides on the floor, some without tops. The front end of a Ford truck was embedded in the rubble. Wind and rain still worked their way in. Things were still moving in this space.

But what made his heart stop, he couldn't see Nick or Warrick. There wasn't a single sign of either man in this mini-hell. Once again, he was jerked backwards by the collar of his shirt.

"There's nothing we can do right now. Get down, keep your head covered. When this passes, then we'll find them."

"Okay…" Greg felt numb.

He watched with fear in his eyes as Brass closed the door behind them. There were shouts and screams from the other side. Greg couldn't figure out which were real and which were in his head.

"Come on Greg. We have to stay alert. Let's go check on Andrew. That room didn't have any windows. It is in the middle of the school. They should be okay."

The younger man refrained from saying anything about how Brass had said that about the band room. And they had both seen how that one looked. And who they hadn't seen.

They both managed to get across the hallway. Greg looked down the hallway. Only their end looked to be affected by the storm outside. He only hoped it passed soon before anything more could happen.

'When will I learn to keep my mouth shut. Physical and mental,' Greg slapped his hand over his mouth to stop the shout of panic from emerging at the new aspect tossed at the two men.

Now they both came to realize what they were dealing with. The bottom of the tornado ripped its way straight across the school only about twenty feet from them. Now Greg was really sure he was going to be picked up and taken away to Kansas.

Brass didn't allow his feet to stop as he took in this new development. He lunged at Greg and body slammed him into the door they had been heading to. There was no struggle as the door opened and once again ended up on the tile.

"Jim! Greg!"

Andrew looked up at the entrance and bolted to his feet. He rushed over and dragged both over to the corner he had huddled in with the kids. The young cop threw himself back towards the door and closed it quickly. Without thinking too much about it, he pulled a table to help block it some more. None of the young students had moved from their crying physical cave-ins.

"Shit Andy, you guys okay?"

"What the hell is going on out there!" the young cop's eyes were wide in panic and concern as he looked over the two disheveled and drenched men. It sounded like explosions happening all around them in this closed off room. Andrew hadn't wanted to leave the kids so he stayed. Hoping no one was dead.

Brass didn't bother to say much, "Storm, tornado."

The kids whimpered and pulled in on themselves even more. Andrew's jaw attempted to work, but it only seemed to have the ability to open and close dumbly. Tornados in Vegas were rare beyond rare. He could only remember that funnel cloud back in the spring of 2001. People had seen it, but it hadn't touched down. This one obviously had more work to do than that other one.

Derek was the one to voice his opinion first, 'But…we don't have…those problems. Only ever really bad wind storms."

"Tornado ain't that far off, kid," Brass sat heavily on the floor with his back to the wall.

"Jim, where's Nick and Warrick?"

Greg shifted his body at the question. It hadn't even been directed at him, for which he was eternally grateful. His eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall for his two friends. If he had to say they might be dead, under tons of stone and a truck, he would lose and sob.

"Don't know. Band room is wrecked. Have to wait it out before we go looking for them."

Voices reduced themselves to whimpers and small cries. Sniffles could be just heard over the tormenting winds screeching outside the door. Greg rested his head on his knees and cried.

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

Why are you doing this?

Trying to help ya, man. What is the big deal?

The big deal? The BIG deal! You don't get it do you man.

What I don't get is why you're throwing such a fit over this. Stupid if ya ask me.

So, not only insult me with this, but then you call me stupid.

Not what I meant, bro. And this was to help you out. It bothers me that your alone all the time.

But, I'm not alone. I thought I had friends, good ones.

Nick groaned at the dialogue taking place inside his head. It was loud and irritating, just like it had been when it had played out in real life. At least he could hit the stop button when he needed to now. Just had no control over play.

He forced his eyes open. At first, it wasn't clear if they were really open. It was dark, and damp. Nick tried to lift his hand to rub at them. But it wouldn't move. In fact nothing would move.

"What!" his voice croaked, and immediately bounced back at him. It vibrated through his mind. But it was drowned out by the panic that took hold of his entire being.

Nick tried pulled at his arms, but could only move them a tiny bit. Something harsh and heavy had one pinned to his left side, the other stretched out above his head. He turned his head to the side, only to be stopped before it moved more than a couple of inches. It was a trap.

His breathing got thicker and heavier. It hurt his chest, but he couldn't bring himself to calm down. Nick attempted to gain control of his legs. There was enough worst luck with those. He was trapped, without the glass.

"Warrick? Help!"

It wasn't clear where he was, but whatever he was in, it was holding in his screams very well. They echoed around him. Words were lost to him. Only screams of pure noise were sounded now. His body thrashed against his bonds. Nick didn't feel the blood beginning to run from the numerous cuts on his body.

"Help me!"

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

The rumbling had stopped. Warrick sighed his relief at this. He had blacked out only once and was what seemed like forever ago. Since then, he had to sit and wait to see what happened.

His body ached. Bricks had landed hard on his entire frame. There was also something dull and round digging into his right hip. But it was the fact that he couldn't see anything that worried him the most. Well, that and the fact he had lost track of Nick in this whole mess.

Now that it seemed the storm was over, Warrick began to work on getting out of his current situation. The weight over his body wasn't significant, but it wasn't easy to work his way upward. Dust forced him to cough harshly. It burned his eyes.

But the clearer air called his name and he grunted his way up. A pull on his right leg slowed his process a bit. Something had his shoe pinned to the floor. He had to work without moving that limb. Warrick gasped once he was upright on his knees.

Coughing and rubbing at his eyes, Warrick looked around at the room he remembered sounding peach with the sound of a piano. This room would only hear the sounds of dump trucks and bulldozers from this point forward.

Everything was in complete shambles. Water ran through cracks of the collapsed wall, pooling all around the room. Turning around as best he could, Warrick could make out that damn truck. It looked like some abstract art structure. But it was the color of pale flesh he wanted to see.

Warrick scanned the entire area around him, but didn't see Nick anywhere. With a sigh of frustration, he looked down at the leg that he couldn't get to move. It was completely held by several blocks of brick and that dull thing, a music stand. His hands were scraped and bruised, but they worked well enough to remove the obstacles in his way of getting to his feet.

The ankle looked swollen. Warrick applied some pressure to the area. A hiss escaped as his eyes dropped shut. Trying again, he slowly rotated the joint. Nothing seemed to be broken, just pulled and strained. It would work.

"Okay Cowboy, where are ya?" His voice echoed around the now much smaller band room. Thinking quickly, he quickly remembered where he had last seen his friend and carefully made his way through the mess.

Ever step he reached down and called downward. The last thing he wanted to do was step on his best buddy. That was something he would never be able to apologize enough for. Not only to Nick, but to himself.

Finally, after four agonizing steps, he heard the first scream, "Nick! Nicky!"

It was just a pure scream of fear and pain. Warrick dropped to his knees as close to the sound as he dared. This was not supposed to happen. Nick was never supposed to be scared or hurt again. Not on his watch. He had failed once again. But now was not the time to pay attention to his own pain. Nick needed him.

A sharp edged rock ripped into his fingers, but the wet blood left behind did little to distract him. It was the twitching hand that brought the sob of relief out of his throat, "Oh god, Nick. Hold on. I'm coming."

The fingers wrapped tightly around his as he gave a squeeze to let Nick know he was coming. He could hear the screams more clearly, but couldn't make out what was being said. From the position of the hand, Warrick could tell he had to work away from him. Nick's head was close.

It was painful seconds until Warrick could see the panic in those chocolate brown eyes. Tears streamed downward from Nick's eyes, leaving trails through the red and brown dirt on the pale cheeks. But Warrick couldn't wait any longer. He had to get Nick free.

"I got ya man. You're okay. Just give me some time. Have to get you out. I got ya man."

But now that Nick could see something other than darkness, his first instinct was to get up and out. Warrick's voice washed over him, but it blended with the white noise his ears were filled with. There was tight pressure on his chest as he tried to throw himself upward, and free.

Warrick pressed his hand down onto the heaving chest. Nick was going to cause more damage to himself this way. The bricks were tight on the top of his torso. Some of his ribs had to be severely bruised, if not broken. But Nick wouldn't stop fighting him, his entrapment.

Shuffling around so he was closer to Nick's head, Warrick placed both of his own bloody hands around Nick's face, "Nick, look at me."

The free hand reached up and gripped Warrick's wrist hard, "Help me…"

"Trying man, but I need you to hold still. I'll get you out, I promise."

Nick took a deep, shuttering breath and nodded his head. The pain in his body was coming out more sharply now. Every tiny weight that Warrick removed from the top of his newest coffin, it shifted the rest around him. His left hip and upper leg hurt.

Warrick smiled once he got Nick's other hand free. The other CSI pulled it up to his chest and clamped both hands together. Both hands were cut up almost as must as Warrick's were. But it was what he uncovered as he went that made his breath catch in his chest. There was a fairly deep cut through Nick's jeans, right above his left hip.

"Okay. I'm going to work on getting your legs free."

'I can help," Nick strained as he lifted himself upward into a sitting position. From this new position, new pains ran through his back and his rib cage. He could now see the blood Warrick had been focused on.

Between the two men, Nick was free before much more time had passed. Warrick ran his hands up and down Nick's legs looking for any breaks. There didn't appear to be any, just a lot of swelling and pain. It was the rest of Nick that might be a problem. He sat back on his heels painfully as slapped at his eyes.

"You okay?"

Nick snorted at the question, "I cannot believe you just asked me that. Dummy."

They both broke down into chuckles as the stress of what just happened lifted. Nick was just so glad to be free that he couldn't get the grin off his face for very long. But he couldn't laugh as well as he felt he should be able to. Something had wrapped its way around his rips and was slowly getting tighter with every move he made.

"You think the storm is over?"

Warrick cleared his throat and nodded, "Has to be. Though there is still water running in through what was once the wall. Might just be raining now."

"Think Brass and Greg are okay?"

This was something Warrick hadn't thought about yet, "Shit, I dunno. I sure hope so. We could go looking for them. Feel up to it?"

"Just need a hand up."

Without too much trouble, both men were on their feet. Nick favoring his left side and ribs, Warrick his right leg. It was a sore sight they both made. The first couple of steps were painful and slow. Nick tripped with every step he took.

"I need to sit," he ground out through clenched teeth. Sweat was breaking out all around his face, veins popping out in his temple.

"Okay man. Just take it easy,"

Warrick left Nick to stand on his own for a second as he hobbled over to grab a folding chair he spotted. It would be better for Nick to sit down on that than all the back down to the ground. A moan sounded as Nick sat down. Warrick immediately ripped at the hem of his shirt to get a make-shift bandage. He pressed the piece of cloth to the blood that was still running from Nick's wound. It quickly absorbed blood, some also from his own hands.

"Well, you're an official mess once again Nicky."

"Not looking too much better, Mr. Suave."

"Yeah, yeah. Once we get this stopped, we're going to find the others."

Nick nodded and let his head fall forward. A headache was taking up home behind his eyes. His body screamed for rest. But they had to find the others.

"And we still have a case to solve."

TBC…