Title: Crash and Burn

Disclaimer: Angst, slash, violence, sexual content, language.

POV: Grissom

Chapter Eight: Bleeding it Out

I slammed my fist into the table in a fit of anguish. All night I had been going over the evidence. Again. Trying desperately to find something, anything that would clear the names of my subordinates. Just that one tiny piece of evidence that would put Nick and Greg outside the radar of the sheriff. Time was running short and was beginning to feel as though I was fighting a losing battle. Someone else had to have committed this crime and there had to be a mistake somewhere. They couldn't have possibly cleaned up everything. The general public doesn't realize how hard it is to clean away all the evidence. Maybe I wasn't dealing with the general public. Thinking like that made it appear as though my friends were guilty, just like everyone else seemed to think they were. I couldn't have that.

Running a sample of blood from Nick's house through the machine again I sat back to await my results. I knew the computer would say the same thing it said the first five times. The blood was Nick's; all of the blood belonged to Nick. Aside from the clothes in the dresser and a few other knick-knacks it had been hard to tell that Greg even shared a home with Nick. Maybe Nick didn't want him around anymore. Maybe he grew tired of sharing his house with another man. But to actually kill his lover, wouldn't that be a tad too drastic? He could have just asked him to move out, to leave him alone, and tell him that the relationship was over.

Tired of waiting for the computer to spit out the same results as usual I took off for the break-room. Time for the shift to end grew closer and closer and I needed to give my brain a rest. I always told my team to put away a tough case until the next night. That way they could look upon it with fresh eyes, new ideas. However, this time I refused to heed my own advice. We had been able to work around the clock to find Nick when he'd been kidnapped. We had worked as a team, eight people unified to one goal. Now the team was two short and the rest of them were running after their own opinions, occupied with their own problems. That would never work.

Grabbing a chilled bottle of water from the fridge I sit at the small table. The TV in the corner is off for once. Somehow the sheriff had managed to keep everything under wraps; the missing CSI and the attack on another. How he did it I didn't care to find out, I was just thankful for it, though I believe it to be more a political move than a sign of friendship. Having two abductions of CSIs while he was sheriff would mar his record. Couldn't have that now, could he? I took a swig of the water, feeling the cool liquid pass over my tongue and down my throat. My stomach growled, yearning for food, but I had no appetite.

Could this whole event be my fault? Had I taken the time to stop and smell the roses, or in this case, talk with Nick, I would have known if something was wrong. Damn my lack of people skills. If we found Greg alive and Nick innocent I swore to spend less time at work and with my bugs, and spend more time with the ones that I held dear. I promised myself the same exact thing when Nick had been kidnapped, and again when he tried to kill himself. It never stuck, but this time I'd keep my promise. Every one of them would know that they were important to me as friends, as family, and not just as colleagues.

Sara came into the room, grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter, and sat at the table across from me. "You look more lost than usual, Griss."

"It's this whole damned case. I just can't get it out of my head," I told her. "There has to be something I'm missing."

"Grissom, this isn't your fault," she reassured me. She took a bite of her apple before continuing. "What have you learned today? Anything new?"

"Not a goddamned thing, that's what I've learned. I've run the blood samples through again and again hoping to get different results. The evidence screams out loud every damn time that the blood is all Nick's."

Sara gave me a thoughtful, yet sorrowful, look. "I find it depressing that we can't all work the case with you. You never did tell us why Ecklie assigned two more cases to our shift. What gives? I thought he'd want everyone working the missing case."

Her soft brown eyes looked into mine. Her worries for Nick and Greg, and her love for me were clear as day in those lovely eyes. Maybe when this case was solved…maybe…"Ecklie and the sheriff are suffering from a case of tunnel vision. Both of them are dead-set on pinning all responsibility on Nick. Ever since his kidnapping they've been convinced that he's unstable, that something inside him has snapped. With Greg missing and Nick as the only suspect their feeling might proud of themselves."

"Those assholes," whispered Sara in a shocked voice. "I'll be the first to admit that Nick hasn't exactly been himself since that incident, who can blame him? Sure, he doesn't like going underground and confined spaces make him shake, but wouldn't you feel that way too?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. She was right, just like always. Though he had changed in subtle ways he still remained the Nicky we all knew and loved. He talked trash with Warrick, made jokes with Brass, listened to Catherine, and came to me when he needed to know the answer to a question. He laughed. He smiled. He cried. He loved. He was and always would be Nick Stokes, as long as he had his lab family to help him through.

"He didn't do this," I stated.

"I know that and you know that, how will we make everyone else see that?" questioned Sara.

"The evidence," I replied, standing from the table and making my way out the door. "The evidence never lies."

"Grissom," Sara called, running to catch-up with me. "We already know what the evidence says. It's not going to help us."

"We're missing something, that's all."

The piece of paper I had been waiting for called to me. I plucked it from printer and read over it, letting a smile appear on my face. Finally, something had fallen into place. Persistence finally paid off. The clock signaled the ending of night shift. I didn't care; I'd finally gotten the one thing my heart desired. The missing piece of the puzzle showed itself for the first time.

"What's with the grin, Griss? You're beginning to scare me," said Sara.

"Who collected all these blood samples?" I asked in response to her question.

"If they're from the door, that would be me," she replied without hast. "I know I took more than protocol says but I couldn't help myself. Two important lives were on the line."

I gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, taking her by surprise. "Thank you. You just helped clear both Nick and Greg of the crime at hand."

"Griss-"

"The blood that I ran came back. It's a mix of Greg's and Nick's with a small sampling of a third party. A third party," I cried with joy.

Sara smiled at me, letting the knowledge sink in that we hadn't been wrong all along. Someone else had been in that house. Someone else had taken Greg and hurt Nick. The joy quickly washed away as we realized what that all meant. Someone had Greg. There had been no ransom demand, no contact whatsoever. A disturbing sign that could mean we'd find a body instead.

"Tonight I'm going to talk with the sheriff and Ecklie to see if I can get everyone focused on this one case. The unidentified blood source should be convincing enough to prove there was a kidnapping," I said to Sara. "At the moment I think I'm going to go pay Nick a visit, break the news to him. The last thing I want for him is to hear this from someone else."

"I so agree on that last part. If you want some help with the sheriff and Ecklie tomorrow, just let me know," she offered.

Parting ways I said goodbye to the lab for the day and climbed into my car. On the way to Nick's house I tried to think of ways to break the news to him. On one hand it was good news and on the other, it was bad news. Two sides of the same damn coin. Flip it one way and Greg was alive. Flip it the other way and Greg was dead. I deliberately took the long way to Nick's house, prolonging the decision making that was going on in my head. I finally decided that the best way to tell him would be straightforward and truthful. Pulling into his driveway I killed the engine and climbed from the car.

Mr. Knowles gave me a leery look over the hood of his car, which he was washing. The last two times he'd seen me things had been bad. I gave him a small wave and a hesitant smile. He went back to paying attention to the automobile in his driveway. Nick's door was closed, all the curtains of his house drawn to block out the sun. I knocked, hoping that he'd be awake. No sounds came from inside. Still, I waited a good minute before knocking again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. I'd probably caught him while he was sleeping or in the shower. Returning to my car to fetch a piece of paper to leave a note with I was stopped by the voice of Mr. Knowles.

"He's home, Mr. Grissom. He was there all night, and I haven't heard a peep from him yet today. Haven't seen him drive off or go on a walk. My guess is that he's sleeping or something."

"Thank you, I'll just leave a note on his door," I replied.

Walking back up the door I began to scribble a note to leave behind. I wanted him to call me as soon as he got the note. This was news he had to hear. As I was looking for a way to hold the note to the door- there had been no tape in my car- I heard a distant sound coming from inside. I knocked, thinking that maybe Nick had just gotten up. The sound grew a little louder. It sounded to me like a person moaning in pain. Had he fallen and hurt himself? Trying the door I found that it wasn't locked. Opening it just a crack I was hit with the coppery smell of blood.

Stepping into the room, my eyes were greeted with an appalling sight. I rushed to Nick's side, my cell phone in my hand to call for help. I bent down over Nick's body as I recited his address. The dispatcher said an ambulance would be sent straight away. I rested a hand on Nick's pale cheek. My eyes strayed to the reopened wounds on his wrists, both of them fresh with blood. A feeling of despair hit me as I realized that I'd let him down again.