Title: And the Thunder Rolls

By: duffshel

Author's Note: Well, it's kinda still the middle of the week. But, hey, in honor of the awesome-looking new episode tonight, here ya all go with a new chapter. So, we have a few more pieces of the puzzle to put into place. Now that we have our rescue null and void, what can possibly happen next? Have to read and see, now won't cha! As always, thanks to everyone for the reviews. Everyone is so dang kind and helpful! Go play, but look both ways before crossing the street! Bye!

#9: And the lightnin' flashes in her eyes…

There were tiny people in his brain. Lots of them. They were waging war with every one of his brain cells. And his little warriors were failing in the line of duty. White flags were being raised, cellular hands high in the air.

Nick groaned as he forced himself to keep moving forward. His brain was trying to free itself from his scalp with each move he made. The temping chair that Andrew had vacated was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before. It was just too far away. It was really unfair.

A hand had recently taken place around his upper arm, helping him to move along. Under normal circumstances, it would have been shaken off and commented upon. But now, Nick was well aware that it was the only thing keeping him grounded, in reality. He wanted nothing more than to take a long, work free vacation from his body.

A voice wafted through the fog, "Come on, Nicky. Almost there. Keep walking."

The chair was solid under his hand, his grip. He shifted his weight and let the chair take hold of it. His brown eyes closed the minute the stress was off his legs and lower back. Nothing was given any thought, just completely ignored as he creaked and settled.

Fingers pulled at the waist of his shirt. It tickled and allowed cool air to touch the warm skin of his stomach. Brown eyes opened to slivers and looked straight into concerned green ones. A sigh escaped his lips and his head rolled backward a little as Warrick moved his shirt up some more.

"Need ya to lean back a little. Can't see the wound from this angle, man."

Warrick kept his voice low, his body shielding Nick from curious, young eyes. The boys were all trying to see what was wrong with the two CSI's. It was always intriguing to young boys to see wounds and blood. And here were some prime ones for examination.

Reaching up to undo the jean button and zipper once again, Warrick studied Nick's face. A flush of color not related to pain washed over the pale cheeks. Muttering a quick apology for this, Warrick tugged open the flaps and pulled the fabric downward a little. The blood was fresh and shinny where once white, flat cloth was.

"Damn man. Why the hell didn't you say anything about this?"

"And do what about it?" Nick mumbled.

"Could have done something. Now, just try to relax."

It was easier said than done. As the cloth of the gauze was pulled away from the lips of the ripped flesh, Nick hissed out the lung full of air he had been holding. The heat raised right off the new and old blood alike. Warrick almost couldn't bring himself to touch it to take a look at it.

His long fingers gently probed the outer ridges, trying to make certain nothing was stuck inside causing it to bleed so much. From what he could tell, it was clear. Nick just needed to chill for a bit and not move around so much. It may have a chance to stop bleeding then.

"Done yet, 'Rick?"

Nick's blood stood out on the denim of his own jeans as Warrick raised his eyes to look at his friend, "Yeah, not much I can do for it. Going to change the bandages though. Don't move."

He didn't wait for a response as Warrick stood and looked for the first aid kit that they had found earlier. It was on the floor underneath the table. The still man on top didn't move or even comment as Warrick reached down to grab up more bandages and tape. He looked down at the music director as he turned to move away. Mr. Kentwood looked as good as dead.

"You sleeping again?"

Nick grunted as he shifted his head, eyes still closed, "Shut up. Just hurry up. Its cold in here and my pants are open."

"Thought you always wanted your pants open. Keeps the ladies looking for more."

"How many ladies you see in here, bro? And I have no desire to go to jail for tempting a minor. Just slap that crap on there and button me back up."

"Didn't even buy me a drink first," Warrick shook his head.

"You never picked a bar. Not my fault."

The white bandages quickly turned pink, but Warrick didn't let it bother him too much. He just needed to get this done and rest himself. Once the tape was applied and pressed tight, Warrick helped Nick adjust his jeans so they could be zipped and buttoned once again. He stood quietly noticing Nick's chin was resting forward towards the broad chest. Nick was quickly falling asleep.

He rested a gentle hand on the Texan's shoulder, "Nick…Nick. You don't wanna fall asleep on this chair. Let's get ya propped up on the floor."

There was no respond other than a grunt and a mumbling of pale lips. Warrick looked around him and saw the pile that the kids had created with their stuff. He walked slowly towards it, looking over it with a calculating look.

"Hey guys, any of you mind if I use some of your stuff?"

"Like what?" Derek asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing big, dude. Just want to get something soft for my buddy to sit on when I move him to the floor."

Natalie shoved the taller boy away from her as she glared at them, "You guys are such jerks. Sure, use what you need."

The CSI smiled slightly and nodded at the young girl. He crouched down slowly, painfully and reached out a hand to ruffle through the belongings spread out. There was a jacket and a sweater. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to ease the stiffness of the tiling. He pulled both out and shuffled over to Nick,

On the other side of the table, there was an open space of wall and floor. He laid out the clothing and stood. His leg muscles pulled at all the movement he was putting them through. Warrick was beginning to think he would need to take a load off with his partner before they did anything else in this place.

Warrick headed over to where Nick was beginning to lean forward on the chair he was sitting on. The Texan had nodded off, breaths soft and slow. He didn't react as Warrick rested a hand on his shoulder. Nor to the small shake his body received. It wasn't until Warrick leaned forward and spoke right into his ear.

"Nick! Hey man!"

It was only three words, not said all that loudly, but it was enough to almost get Nick to jump straight off the chair, "Wha…?"

The grip on his shoulders was tight, but it kept him from hitting the floor. It seemed he needed lots of help lately to stay off the floor. A temper had built up on his little nap it seemed and now it was erupting through his entire being. This was not his idea of fun at all.

"Let go, Warrick. Don't need your help."

This was something Warrick wasn't prepared for. His hands were roughly shaken off, body falling forward a little. Anger filled the brown eyes that were narrowing right before him. This really wasn't something he was ready for.

"Bro? Just want to help ya to get off the chair and onto the floor. That way you can take a nap, get some rest."

"Don't! I don't need your help, again. Just drop it."

"Oh please. Don't start this shit again, Nick. All I wanna do it help you sit on the floor. That's not a crime, man."

"I can do it myself if it's such a big deal."

Nick started to push himself up when Brass and Andrew walked over to see what the problem was. They had heard the two CSI's voices getting louder by the second. Brass was worried they were going to start fighting. Neither would be able to stand it if this resulted in fists. He wanted to put a stop to it if at all possible.

"What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing," Nick grumbled as he managed to get to his feet, waving around only a little. He could sense the strong hands waiting to catch him, ready for anything.

Andrew frowned, "Then what's with all the yelling? You two have been off since we got here."

"Let's not right now," Warrick shook his head, "Not in front of the kids. Have to look united for them."

They all knew that was true, but Greg couldn't help feeling a little upset. It was so close to coming to the surface. All he wanted to know was what was wrong with his two coworkers. This was getting bad when they fought over the tiniest things. Something was going to happen if they didn't let it all out.

"What're you doing Nick?"

Greg's eyes followed Nick's slow progress towards a small clothing pile on the floor. He hadn't seen anyone put that there. He had been helping with the checking over the kids while the two cops worked over the music director. And, he was timing Sam, but not telling anyone that.

"Told to get my ass off the chair and onto the floor. Working on it."

The words were pushed out past the rasps for breath. It was harder than it had looked to begin with. Nick was beginning to yearn to ask for that unwanted, undesired help. But his pride slammed those thoughts right down into the floor. He was sick of needing Warrick to do everything for him. It was bad enough that he couldn't change his own bandages.

Both articles of clothing were thin from where Nick looked down upon them. But as he lowered his bulk, they proved to be even worse. Other than taking away the chill of the tile, there was really no point to having these things spread out underneath him. But he knew better than to say anything. Nick really didn't want to fight anymore. It was hard enough to keep his eyelids open.

"Alright there, man?" Warrick asked, full of caution.

Nick let his eyelids win the battle and close down tightly over his eyes, "Just fine."

There was no emotion in those words. That worried everyone more than if they were said in anger, happiness, or contempt. It was never a good sign when Nick closed off enough to blank out his voice. Their normally emotional charged friend was turning away.

Brass could sense that Warrick wished to talk with Nick a little so he turned the other two men away, "Greg, Andy. We need to figure out what to do while we wait. Let's talk."

Using the tone of the command, neither asked any questions. Greg offered a supportive grin to Warrick before he moved away. Taking the only unoccupied space left in the room, the two cops and the young CSI were close enough to help, but far enough to be out of the way.

Looking down at Nick, Warrick shuffled to the man's right side and lowered himself to the floor. His legs rejoiced at this little respite from having to move around so much. Warrick didn't consider the fact that he would be stiffer than hell soon for quicker than a blink. Nick's pinched face drew his attention first and foremost.

"You want to tell me what's up?"

A breath escaped through flared nostrils, "Not really. Just want to rest a little, man. Not the best company right now."

It was a fact, but it still didn't please Warrick. He leaned back a little more, his shoulder brushing against Nick's. He was extremely thankful when his partner didn't pull away from him. In fact, Nick seemed to lean a little more on the extra support offered. Warrick grinned and closed his own eyes. The ground was hard, but it still felt good.

"As soon as your ready to talk 'bout this, I'll be ready."

But the words fell on sleeping ears. Nick's head slid sideways, causing it to crash softly against Warrick's neck and shoulder. Shifting a little, Warrick managed to get Nick's head fully on his left shoulder, his own arm helping to keep the other man still. This is what his partner needed. Not thinking too much, Warrick let himself drift off. The waiting would be easier.

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

Greg shifted around as he looked over at the two sleeping CSI's on the floor. He knew they needed that little respite, but he couldn't help to think that they needed to be awake and alert. The two cops were talking, filling the background with noise that he couldn't bring himself to listen fully to. Only when a name was mentioned did Greg give any thought to it.

He also kept checking his watch. The three and the girl had returned to the room longer than ten minutes ago, though he wasn't quite sure on the exact figure. But, that was when Sam had left the room. No way had it taken a guy that long to hit the bathroom and come back.

"Greg?"

His attention was wrapped around the new sound and pulled him into the present, "Huh?"

"You all there, man?" Andrew chuckled at the confused look he received from the younger man. He had been watching the CSI and noticed that something was bothering him and it wasn't the two men on the other side of the room.

"Yeah, just fine. Just drifting, I guess."

Brass coughed and cocked his head to the side, "Care to share."

It wasn't a question. Never meant to be one. This was an order given from Detective Jim Brass.

"Just wondering what's taking Sam so long."

"Sam? One of the kids?"

It suddenly hit the two that Brass hadn't really been present for the exit of Sam from the room. Greg couldn't even really remember Brass getting a look at the kid as he slipped out into the hallway. And from the glare he was getting, he was now sure of it.

"Where is he?"

"He asked to go the bathroom," Andrew pulled at his shirt collar a little as the temperature in the room sudden shot up a few degrees, "And since it's in working order, we let him go."

"Without an escort?"

"Not a date," Greg mumbled under his breath to himself.

"What was that, Sanders?"

"Nothing, just that we didn't think it was a big deal. All he was supposed to do is run in there and back. Lickity-split and all."

Brass sudden felt old and worn, "In a school where there is severe damage, people possibly dead, and unsafe structures, you let a teenage boy wander off all by himself."

"Yeah…"

Both younger men shrank under the tone and look Brass was handing down. Greg had questioned the idea before, but neither had put much thought into it past that. It was supposed to be just a quick bathroom run. No need for make up.

"You two idiots better go look for him then. I'll stay here with them. Get 'im and get the hell back here."

Not sparing another word, Brass walked away towards the vacated chair. He had nothing more to say to those two boys about this matter. They were going to have to find the boy and make sure he hadn't gotten into any trouble on this bathroom run. He shook his head as he sat down. 'Ridiculous.'

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

Andrew led the way from the room, his steps quick. He had an idea from listening to the other talk, which door the small bathroom was behind. Sure enough, he found it with no trouble. His fist lifted and rapped hard against the door.

"Sam? Hey man? You in there?"

He held his breath, listening hard for anything. No voices, no running water, nothing was coming from behind the door. Andrew looked over his shoulder at Greg's wide eyes before he reached down to grab the handle. It opened with ease.

The room was dark on the other side. Greg pushed his way past Andrew and walked into the small confines first. His eyes swept over every surface. It was the sink that caught his attention. While it was perfectly logical, but unsanitary, the sink was bone dry.

"I don't think he was in here. Sink's dry."

"Teenager. Washing hands is something outside most of their vocabulary."

"I dunno. These are proper kids in a proper school. I'd think they knew something that simple."

"No sigh on the door saying please wash hands before returning to class. Possible the kid just wanted to get out of here right away and take a look around. Something might be troubling him about something."

The way the cop said the last sentence caught Greg's attention fully, "You think he did it?"

"He was kinda quiet through it all and suddenly, he needed to run to the bathroom. Personally, all my bladder functions left the scene once the sound of the tornados hit."

Greg thought about it for a second too and realized he hadn't needed to answer the call of nature yet. And it had been a few hours since he had last done so. He thought that after a traumatic event, everyone had to pee. Seems it wasn't true. No one, but Sam had said anything about it and it was a good deal of time later.

"Where'd you think he is?"

"Band room," Andrew said with no thought. That's where he would want to go right away. It was the only place with a portal to the outside world. Even if the boy couldn't get through it, seeing it was the next best thing.

Glancing back at the sink, Greg nodded, "Alright, let's check it out. I don't want to see Brass again empty handed."

The two men walked out of the room before Andrew suddenly stopped and turned around, back towards the bathroom. Greg watched with interest as the cop propped the door open with the garbage can. Now anyone could see fully into the room, no hidden corners. Greg raised an eyebrow.

"What? Now we will be able to tell if anyone goes in there or not. Just shut up, Greg."

Slapping the other man's shoulder, Andrew got them moving along. His feet felt heavy, but he kept them working. They needed to find that boy. They needed to figure out what was going on. They needed a plan.

TBC…