Nick came to in a dark and damp basement. Groaning, the throbbing in his head left him slightly disorientated. He slowly tried to sit up but realised that both his hands and feet were bound with duct tape. A groan came from somewhere in the darkness and Nick froze, trying to let his eyes adjust so he could see more than black. After a few seconds, he could just about make out Sara's body lying at his feet.
"Sara? Sara, are you ok?"
Nick got no response. Worried, he raised his wrists and started trying to rip off the tape with his teeth. After a lot of effort, he finally managed to get the duct tape broken enough to pull his hands apart. He quickly untied his feet and scrambled over to Sara. He gently shook her shoulders and brushed the hair from her face, calling her name repeatedly. Slowly, she opened her eyes with a groan.
"Nick?"
He smiled as he removed the tape from her wrists and ankles.
"Hey there. You had me pretty worried for a minute. How'd you feel?"
She sat up, dabbing the nasty cut to her head and looked around her with a slightly glazed expression.
"Yeah, yeah, I think I'm ok. A bit groggy though. Where are we?"
"I dunno. Do you have your gun or a cell phone?"
Sara fumbled around for a second and shook her head.
"You?"
"No, the son of a bitch took them. And Officer Watson isn't here either."
"Oh God, do you think…"
Sara couldn't finish her sentence and Nick couldn't answer it. He jumped to his feet and started prowling around in the dark, feeling the walls and trying to find some way for them to escape.
"There's no windows and the air vents would be too small for a damn puppy to get through. Even you aren't that skinny."
Sara grinned at him as she struggled to her feet, wobbling slightly. Nick rushed to her side to steady her.
"Are you sure you're ok?"
She waved him off and kept smiling.
"Yes, I'm fine. Really! I just need to shake off the cobwebs, that's all."
He nodded and started climbing the wooden steps, a crack of light coming from the door above. He glanced back down at Sara and then tried to push it open, using his full weight for leverage. The door did not budge.
Nick felt a surge of fear as he began to realise that they were genuinely trapped and started hammering on the door, yelling and shouting for help. He didn't stop until the door suddenly flew open, sending him crashing down the stairs and landing in a heap at the bottom. Sara rushed to his side, trying to shake him awake as she looked back up to the doorway. The silhouette above her pointed what was obviously a gun down at them, a threatening voice echoing through the basement.
"Keep shouting and you die. Try to escape and you die."
Sara stared up at him, painfully aware of how much she was shaking.
"Look, we're criminalists. We're not cops. Please, just let us go and I swear we won't tell anyone, you won't have to worry. But if you hurt us, if you murder us then you'll still be a cop-killer and you'll have the entire Las Vegas PD after you."
The man laughed as he pointed the gun straight at her.
"Only if they find you, sweetheart."
Sara grabbed Nick's shoulders and tried to pull him out of the way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gun move and dived in front of Nick as the man fired, feeling a hot pain sear through her before everything faded away.
Grissom, Catherine and Warrick watched as O'Riley led Karl out of the interview room and down towards booking. Brass wandered over to them.
"So, how's the Michelle Winters case going?"
Grissom sighed.
"It looks like we may be working the same case as Nick and Sara. It appears that Mark Boreman was dating their vic Joanna Davenport as well as Michelle so we may have found their intruder. Not to mention that our main suspect for Michelle's murder is Mark's brother, Elijah Boreman."
Brass raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I gotta say I'm surprised about the whole brother thing but as for Mark, Nick and Sara already know. They're over at his house now."
His phone started ringing and he excused himself as Grissom turned to the others.
"We should see what they've got and get Mark back in for questioning."
Brass marched back over to them, an almost worried look on his face.
"That was Mark Boreman on the phone. He said that Elijah, his own brother, is trying to track him down and kill him. There was a yell and then it cut off. I've ordered a trace on the call."
At that moment, Greg came sprinting round the corner, almost slipping on the polished floors as he came to a halt in front of the small group.
"Have any of you seen Sara or Nick?"
Brass glanced at Grissom and then back at Greg.
"Yeah, I left them at Mark Boreman's house about an hour and a half ago."
"Well, I've been trying to ring them and beep them for an hour and I've got no answer."
Brass grabbed his radio from his pocket and tried to get through to Officer Watson. There was only static. He looked at the others with his eyebrows raised.
"I left them with an officer at the door. They were both armed. They should have been fine!"
Brass' phone started ringing again.
"Yeah… Great, where?"
He hung up without a goodbye or thank you as he looked Grissom straight in the eye.
"That call came from Mark Boreman's house. That's where I left them both. We should get over there right now with back up."
They started making their way out when O'Riley shouted them from down the hall.
"I just heard there's been reports of shots fired at Mark Boreman's house."
Grissom and Catherine shared a look and practically ran to their cars.
Nick once again found himself trying to shake Sara awake, gently trying to staunch the bleeding from her shoulder. She slowly opened her eyes with a groan and Nick sighed with relief.
"Why did you do that? Huh, why'd you put yourself in danger for me?"
She clenched her hand around her left arm as Nick ripped off the bottom of his shirt to use as a tourniquet.
"Yeah, you're right. Why did I do that? Next time, you can get shot."
He grinned as he tied the material round her arm gently but firmly.
"Deal."
He got to his feet and started pacing as Sara just watched him move back and forth, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her arm.
"How long have we been down here?"
"Well, it's been about an hour since we got to Boreman's house. I'm assuming we're still there."
Sara shivered and Nick immediately crouched down beside her.
"Hey, you ok? You cold?"
"Just a little but I'm fine. Really, Nick, I'm fine."
Nick started marching round the basement, eventually finding a blanket amid a pile of boxes under the stairs. He shook it out and draped it round Sara, sitting down beside her as they leant against a wooden beam.
"You think anyone's realised we're missing yet?"
Sara glanced at him as she let her head drop onto his shoulder.
"Of course they have. Brass knows where we are anyway. Nick, can I ask you something?"
He smiled through the darkness.
"Sure, fire away."
She paused, unsure how to ask.
"When we went to the hospital, checking out Joanna Davenport, you… I don't know how to say this but I guess you acted kinda weird."
She felt Nick tense up beside her but continued.
"Look, I don't mean to pry but you had me worried. You seemed really… I guess scared of something. What happened?"
Nick let out a long breath and shook his head.
"You'll think I stupid."
She punched him playfully on the arm.
"No, I won't! And it doesn't seem like we're going anywhere soon so you got plenty of time to explain."
"Ok, fine. Well, I haven't been sleeping well recently. I know y'all think I've been some kind of playboy or something but to be honest, I've been having nightmares. I've been having a lot of them too, always about the same thing."
Sara waited for him to continue as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts, obviously slightly embarrassed by what seemed to be his lack of male bravado.
"Do you remember Nigel, Nigel Crane?"
"The stalker guy. He killed that woman and posed her like your prom date as a gift and then tried to kill himself in your own home. Of course I remember."
Nick sighed heavily.
"I thought I saw him at the hospital. I know it wasn't him and that I'm just being stupid but I can't help it. I can barely sleep at night knowing that he used to be there, watching me, taping me, like I was some kind of lab rat. He was in my home, Sara, he killed Jane Galloway for me. Do you have any idea how that feels, knowing that someone would do something so evil as a gift of all things?"
Sara slung her arm around Nick's waist with a sigh, squeezing slightly as she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.
"It's not stupid, Nick. No one would ever say that was stupid. This guy put you in hospital and, worse than that, he invaded your home, the one place we're supposed to be safe from all this stuff. I'm sorry that you've been having nightmares but you know what, one day that's all it'll be. A bad dream."
Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she threw some of the blanket over him as she nestled into the crook of his arm.
"It's all just a bad dream, Nick. Everything's going to be fine."
Half an hour later and the conversation had turned to their families. Nick sighed.
"You know, I do miss my folks, my brother and my sisters. Becoming a CSI was pretty much all I wanted. In a way, it was a kind of compromise, you know? My old man's a judge and my mom's a prosecutor so this means I'm basically in the middle, that I'm objective. They both respect that so I studied hard, got my degree and when the position opened up here in Vegas, I jumped at the chance. I thought it would bring me a bit of freedom. My dad's reputation casts a long shadow back home in Texas."
Sara's reply was muffled as she was resting her head on Nick's chest.
"Do you get to see them much?"
"Not as much as I'd like. What about you?"
"Me? I was always pretty independent. Now I'm not that sure if it's a good thing."
"Oh, I dunno. I've always admired that about you. You don't take any crap from people and you don't seem to care about what they think of you either. I always dwell on it. I guess having such a large, close family meant I was pretty sheltered and I got used to being close to people. That's not always a good thing though. I just wish I could be more like you sometimes."
"Really? I'm surprised actually."
"I mean, you're like Catherine. You're the people person. I always admired that about you and I wish I had more of your people skills. Maybe it's because I'm just too independent. I guess half the time being independent just means you're more cut off, more detached."
"Like Grissom?"
She laughed.
"God, I hope I'm not quite like that! But as for family, no I don't see them much."
"Well, we've basically formed our own little family at work now."
"You already were a family when I got here. I never told anyone this before but I was pretty intimidated when Gris asked me to stay on in Vegas. I mean, I was pretty settled back in San Francisco and I was only brought in to do the internal investigation after Holly Gribbs was shot. You all seemed so close already. I just didn't think I'd fit in at all."
Nick laughed.
"But you did, Sara, and you do an amazing job here. Not to mention you seemed to get on great with Hank, that paramedic guy."
Sara tensed up beside him and Nick immediately knew he'd said something wrong.
"Yeah, I guess."
"I'm sorry, Sara, I didn't mean to upset you or anything.
"No, no. It's just kinda awkward you know, admitting you've been taken for a complete fool."
"We've all been there, we've all been hurt. I know I have this reputation for being a bit of a ladies man and all but to be honest, all I really want is to find someone to settle down with. The perfect woman who I can start a family with."
"I thought I'd found my perfect person, a man who understood me. Problem was that he was just too worried about his job. I didn't stand a chance."
Nick sighed and gently squeezed her shoulders.
"You know what Sara? One day, you'll find someone you love, someone who loves you and all that other stuff just won't matter. Man, I'm really turning all mushy here!"
She laughed as she looked up at him.
"I'm just surprised by that. I always thought your job was important to you."
He shrugged, Sara's head bouncing on his shoulder.
"It is, of course it is, just like your job's important to you. But sometimes you've just got to prioritise, you know?"
She nodded slowly and stretched her legs out to avoid them going to sleep.
"Ok, now we've done the lovey-dovey stuff, how about a change of subject? Like, what do you look for in your ideal woman?"
Nick laughed, surprised by the change of tact. If it had been anyone else, he would have thought she was flirting with him.
"Well, I seem to go for redheads a lot but to be completely honest, someone like you I guess. You know, someone strong willed, who knows exactly what they want and won't give up. Someone independent, though maybe with slightly better people skills than you."
Sara laughed, glad that the darkness was hiding the blush creeping across her face.
"You also mean someone without the awful track record with men."
Nick's hand gently raised Sara's chin so that he could see her face as he smiled down at her.
"Someone as beautiful as you really won't have a problem finding someone."
He brushed a few tendrils of hair away from her face as they locked eyes, his heart beating furiously. She stared straight back at him, her lips parting in to a nervous smile as she tilted her head slightly. Nick smiled too as he let his fingers trace the contour of her cheek, sending a shiver of electricity down his spine. He leant further forward, letting his lips brush against hers. They both paused, staring into each others eyes and both understanding the other's fears without saying a word.
Sara's hand crept up Nick's back, her fingers running through his short hair. His smile grew as he cradled her chin in his hand, drawing her lips closer to him as he murmured her name. She kissed him then, letting his warmth and salty taste become a welcome relief from the pain throbbing through the arm lying limp at her side. As he pulled her closer, the kiss became more intense and everything around them faded to blissful silence.
Grissom, Catherine and Greg piled out of the Tahoe as Warrick screeched to a halt outside of Mark Boreman's house. Slightly ahead of them, Brass and O'Riley jumped out of their car and immediately started co-ordinating the officers around them. Brass jogged over to them.
"We've found Officer Watson. He was in the boot of his car."
Grissom sighed heavily.
"Dead?"
"Yeah. We're getting the guys ready to surround the place."
Warrick stepped forward, a grim look of determination in his eyes.
"I'm going in with you."
Brass shook his head.
"No way. This guy is a cop killer as it is and we don't need a bunch of scientists getting in the damn way."
Brass started to walk away but Warrick stepped in front of him.
"That's our friends in there. Try and stop me."
Warrick pulled his gun from his holster and walked ahead of him. Brass looked to Grissom for support but, without a single word, he simply drew his weapon and followed Warrick with Catherine and Greg close behind. Brass simply shook his head and followed them over to O'Riley.
"Fine, have it your way. Grissom, Catherine, you're with me. Warrick, Greg, go with O'Riley and circle round back. I don't want this son of a bitch sneaking out on us."
The group split, each following a large group of officers towards the house as the lights from the cars strobed blue and red through the dark. Brass led the way up the drive flanked by officers on either side and with Grissom and Catherine behind him. Suddenly, the lead officer stopped, waving Brass forward.
"We got someone injured up here."
Brass radioed back for a paramedic while Catherine craned her neck for a better look, stepping out from behind the cops. Surprised, she lowered her weapon and rushed forward.
"Mr O'Connor?"
She crouched down next to him, laying a hand on top of his own that were clenched around his stomach.
"Mr O'Connor, what the hell are you doing here?"
He was gasping for breath, blood seeping between his fingers as he looked up at her.
"She.. she said 'avenge me'… I came here, to do that but…"
He looked down at his stomach and looked back up at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Catherine held the man's hand as his head dropped to the side. She slid her fingers round his wrist and sighed as the paramedics ran up to her. She stood, moving out of their way and trudged back to where Grissom was waiting.
"It was John O'Connor, the guy who found Michelle. He took her last words a little too literally and got shot by the looks of things."
Grissom looked at her intently.
"Is he ok?"
As if on cue, the paramedics ran past, carrying John back on a stretcher with a sheet over his face. Catherine raised her gun again and followed Brass as he edged closer to the house. One of the officers flung the door open and the others charged in behind him, nearly tripping over Nick and Sara's field kits strewn across the floor.
As Catherine and Grissom followed Brass inside, gun shots sounded and an officer fell to the ground. Another grabbed him and pulled him outside leaving Brass, Grissom and Catherine positioned in a diagonal line in the hallway. Brass shook his head as he stepped towards the living room.
"I don't like this."
They slowly and carefully walked into the room, immediately seeing Mark lying unconscious in the middle of the floor. In the corner, Elijah was crouched down with his head in hands, the gun balanced on his knees. Brass trained his own weapon on him and took a step forward.
"Elijah Boreman, drop the gun and stand up with your hands behind your head."
Elijah did not respond so Brass raised his voice.
"Elijah Boreman, drop your weapon!"
He blinked rapidly as he raised his head, as if he had only just realised that the others were there. He stood, the gun clenched in his hand as he backed away silently and rambled incoherently. Grissom glanced at the others and took a step forward.
"Elijah, what happened to Michelle?"
He froze, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Grissom.
"She was the Chosen One. She was my Chosen One but he tainted her, uh huh, he contaminated her. She was cleansed, she was made pure again, innocent. I had to make her right again, wipe the bad stuff from her brain, drain the bad memories."
"Is that why you tried to lobotomise her?"
"Lobotomise? No. No, no, no, no… I made her like a Stepford Wife, I made her a blank canvas. But something went wrong. She still wanted him."
Elijah waved the gun in Mark's direction and started pacing back and forth.
"Why would she want that scum, that cheating, lying scum. He wasn't worthy of her, of anything. He turned her against me. I tried to make things right. I knew the Chosen One must become a martyr so I got my gun but I couldn't do it. After everything else, I failed her, I couldn't make her a martyr. So she left and I lost the Chosen One. It's all his fault so now he has to pay, just like everyone else who tries to get in my way."
"Like my colleagues, Nick and Sara? Like Officer Watson and John O'Connor?"
"They shouldn't have got in the way. They should have stayed quiet, they should've followed the plan. The plan makes everything so simple."
Brass shook his head with disbelief.
"I've had enough of this. Elijah, drop the damn gun."
Elijah stopped pacing and tapped the gun against his temple, shaking his head.
"No, see, I can't do that. It's not part of the plan."
Brass felt himself tense up as he looked at Catherine. Her eyes suddenly widened and he snapped his gaze back to Elijah. He had opened his jacket to reveal that he was wearing a vest strapped with dynamite. Pointing the gun at Brass, he left his other hand hovering over the switch.
"This is the plan, Captain. We have to follow the plan."
Sara was half-asleep with her head resting on Nick's shoulder when she heard the sirens. They jumped to their feet as the sirens got closer and closer. They grinned at each other and rushed to the air vents, yelling for help to whoever was out there.
After a few minutes, they could hear footsteps outside and yelled louder, banging on the metal grid covering the vents. Suddenly, Greg's voice echoed down the duct.
"Sara? Nick? Are you ok? Where are you?"
Sara sighed with relief as Nick yelled back up to them.
"We're ok but Sara's injured. We're in the basement, I think, but our guns are missing."
Warrick's voice replaced Greg's.
"Ok, Nick hold tight, we're coming to get you."
In the background, he could hear O'Riley radioing their location to someone else. Nick turned to Sara with a huge grin and went to hug her. She wobbled on her feet, her smile fading as she fell towards him. Nick caught her, gently lowering her to the ground as her eyes closed. He brushed the hair from her face as he felt the fear rising inside him.
"Sara? Sara, wake up! Please?"
He cradled her in his arms as he shouted up to the vents.
"Warrick, hurry! Sara… She's not going to make it."
Inside the house, Brass' radio crackled to life and O'Riley's voice broke through the tense air.
"Brass, this is O'Riley. Nick and Sara are in the Boreman's basement but Sara's severely injured, I repeat severely injured."
The radio went quiet again and Grissom shot a worried glance at Catherine. Elijah's hand covered the detonation switch on the vest as he took a step towards the trio.
"Don't even think about it. They're not part of the plan, but you are now. You do anything stupid and everyone dies."
Catherine took a step forward and Elijah pointed his gun straight at her.
"I said don't do anything stupid."
Catherine nodded and smiled at him, slowly crouching down and placing her own weapon on the floor. She raised her hands up in a sign of surrender and took a tentative step towards him.
"Elijah, I actually agree with you. I met your brother, adopted brother, and you're right, he's no good."
Elijah's hand dropped a little as he listened to her, nodding as she spoke.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Catherine, Catherine Willows."
"Are you a cop?"
She shook her head and he smiled slightly.
"You're another one of those criminalist types, right? Like those two downstairs?"
"Yeah, they're my friends."
She took another step forward, her hands still out in front of her in an effort to show him that she was no threat. She glanced at Grissom, trying to ignore the worry in his eyes. He had always said that she was the people person, now she was counting on it.
"Like I said, I met Mark. I know what kind of person he is."
Elijah nodded, the gun hanging forgotten by his side as Catherine drew him in.
"He tried it on with you, didn't he?"
"Yeah. Yeah, he did. But he couldn't fool me, Elijah, I could see him for what he really was. He's just like all the guys I've met my whole life, but not like you. He's nothing like you."
Elijah's head cocked to one side as he listened.
"You're like Michelle, you know? You move like her, like a dancer. You're elegant."
Catherine smiled, bowing her head with modesty.
"Thank you. Thank you very much. You're a lot kinder than Mark. He just used people, didn't he? He used Michelle and you tried to stop him because he was already messing around with Joanna Davenport, right?"
"Michelle was too good for him. She was the Chosen One and he tried to lower her, pull her down to his despicable level. I couldn't have that, I couldn't let him."
Catherine was only a matter of feet away from Elijah as he continued.
"He turned the goddess into the clown, he made her a fool. Joanna was a psycho, everyone could see that. All those years she posed and preened and prostituted herself for cameras, all that make up and hairspray and starving herself, she was a monster! Mark wanted to run away with her but she turned on him so he got himself Michelle. You see, he just used her to drive her mad, he just used her to rub her nose in it. But she was the Chosen One, she was too pure. She sent Joanna mad and that flame-haired devil killed her husband and then herself. They're both burning now, burning burning burning in hell. And then Mark had the audacity to come to me expecting sympathy after he spurned my Michelle."
Catherine nodded, trying to look like she understood and emphasised with him as she inched forward.
"Michelle may have hurt me but Mark hurt her more. He didn't care about her but I did, I loved her! It's all his fault, he did this, he made me do this!"
Catherine tried to calm him down, moving even closer to him.
"I know, Elijah, I know. It's ok. I understand, ok? It's all going to be ok, I understand."
Elijah's eyes snapped on to hers, his voice as timid as a frightened child.
"You understand?"
She nodded slowly and smiled.
"Yes, of course I do. So why don't you just let my friends go and then we can talk about it properly."
Catherine felt both Brass and Grissom's silent protest behind her but ignored them. She smiled at Elijah again, trying to reassure him. He stared at her for a second and when he finally spoke, his voice was uncertain.
"You want to be alone with me, to talk?"
"Yes. Can we do that? Can we let everyone else go so that we can talk?"
A smile started to cross his lips as he inclined his head, moving closer to her. He raised his hand towards her face and as much as she tried to resist it, Catherine flinched. The smile faded and his eyes filled with a desperate sadness before being instantly replaced by anger.
Elijah grabbed Catherine's throat, spinning her round so that he had her back against him, protecting himself from Grissom and Brass who immediately lurched forward. Elijah pressed the gun to Catherine's temple, his breath hot against her ear.
"You're just as bad as him. You're trying to use me! You don't understand, you could never understand! You're evil, nothing like Michelle. Michelle was pure, Michelle was the Chosen One. You need to pay for your insolence."
He pointed the gun at Grissom.
"Now beg for your lives."
Warrick and Greg carefully followed O'Riley round the back of the house, letting some uniformed officers pass them to check out the overgrown garden. Guns drawn, they slowly climbed the back steps, almost on tip-toe, and came out into what appeared to be a laundry room.
O'Riley stalked across the room, Warrick right behind him while Greg hung back a little, his nerves almost overwhelming him. The detective turned back to the two of them, his finger pressed to his lips. Greg strained his ears and could hear a man's voice drifting down the hallway. Warrick glanced at him, mouthing Elijah's name. Greg nodded and followed them as they carefully moved their way in to the hallway.
Looking up the corridor, Greg could see straight into the front room. He caught eyes with Grissom, who quickly looked away again. O'Riley followed his gaze and looked at the situation up ahead. Seeing their guns drawn and hearing Elijah's angry voice, he started making his way towards the living room. Brass saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced in his direction, shaking his head slightly so as not to be noticed. O'Riley quickly retreated to his previous position while Warrick carefully and quietly flung back the bolts on the basement door. He quickly slipped into the darkness, Greg close behind him, and paused at the bottom of the stairs as he tried to let his eyes adjust.
Nick appeared from the shadows, carrying Sara in his arms. Greg rushed over to them, checking her pulse and breathing. Nick's expression was one of fear.
"She just collapsed. He shot her, the guy shot her from up there. I thought she was ok!"
Greg forced a smile as he waved for him to lie her down. Nick and Warrick watched nervously as he checked her wound and then gently tapped Sara's cheeks. Groaning, her eyes fluttered open and she focused on Greg.
"But… Hey Greggo. Are we out then?"
He grinned at her and then up at the others.
"Not quite, but we're nearly there. You just need to get up the stairs, out the back and then we're all home free."
She struggled to her feet, swinging her good arm around Greg's shoulders as Nick followed close behind her, worried about her climbing the stairs. Warrick trotted on ahead, preparing to check if it was safe to leave. Slowly opening the door, he nodded to O'Riley who frantically waved them out.
Emerging into the bright light, Nick felt disorientated and looked around him with wide eyes. His eyes focused on the end of the corridor and he saw Elijah's back, clutching Catherine with the gun pressed to his head. Nick locked eyes with Brass, registering the fear on his face and took a step forward.
Brass turned back to face Elijah who was still shouting and screaming, almost incoherently.
"We have to follow the plan! The Chosen One is a martyr now, flying free, so she must replace her, you're all going to replace her, burning like you're in hell. Fireworks, big fireworks, like the devil's Fourth of July…"
Elijah removed the gun from Catherine's temple and pointed it straight at Grissom.
"Everyone's going to burn!"
At the other end of the corridor, Nick blinked. It was Nigel Crane stood there, waving the gun. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he watched his stalker rant and rave. All the anger, the fear, came flooding back and Nick spun around. He ripped Greg's gun from the holster on his hip and started marching down towards the front room. Greg and Warrick both tried to grab him but he was like a man possessed. He felt the recoil, the flash illuminating his clenched jaw as the loud crack echoed in his ears. Nigel collapsed in a heap beside his adopted brother as Catherine darted out of the way.
Nick walked into the room, oblivious to the looks of surprise from the others around him. Standing over Elijah's groaning form, Nick pointed the gun straight down between his eyes. It was Nigel Crane and his thick-rimmed spectacles looking back up at him. Nick did not even notice the tears running down his cheeks until he felt a hand resting on his arm. Blinking again, Nigel disappeared, replaced by a cowering Elijah. He turned and looked straight into Sara's eyes. She nodded to him almost imperceptibly as she gently pushed on his arm, forcing him to lower the gun.
"Nick, it's ok. It's over now, it's all over. It's finally done."
Brass stepped forward, his hand outstretched. Nick tore his eyes away from Sara and nodded. He passed the gun to Brass and marched out of the house without another word.
Grissom turned to Sara, a look of worry in his eyes even before he saw the blood soaked material wrapped around her arm.
"Sara…"
She raised a hand, instantly silencing him.
"I'm fine, Grissom. Really, I'm fine."
"And Nick?"
She sighed and shook her head.
"I don't think he ever got over everything with Crane. Maybe he's finally just put his demons to rest."
With that, she marched outside and saw Nick leaning on the Tahoe, his hands on the hood and his head hung low. She stopped beside him, gently lifting his chin to make him look at her. He looked strangely gaunt as the red and blue lights played across his face.
"I.. I saw…"
Sara smiled in understanding.
"I know. Elijah Boreman was strapped with explosives and was holding Catherine at gunpoint. You probably saved all our lives, you know."
Nick looked away, shaking his head.
"But what if next time it's not a guy like Elijah Boreman? What if this happens again to someone who's done nothing wrong?"
"It won't, Nick. It won't."
"You can't promise that, you don't know."
Sara turned him so that they were facing each other, cradling his face in her hands.
"I do know, Nick. You're one of the good guys and even if you need to talk to someone about this, get your head sorted, we're all here for you. I'm here for you."
Before he could respond, one of the paramedics rushed up to Sara.
"Miss, we really need to examine your wound."
She turned back to Nick but all she saw was his back disappearing down the drive.