Livin' On a Prayer Chapter 9: Day 5 and Day 6, a csi fanfic

A/N: A songfic within a pseudo-songfic! Is it possible? Yep, it sure is. This chapter is based loosely off of Holding out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler. The lyrics are in BOLD and also cleverly denote a break in the chapter. Usual disclaimer applies...other than that, I think that's about it. Sorry this chapter took so long to get up; I got the lead role in my school's fall show and have had rehersals for the past two weeks. Anyway, onward!

Chapter 8

"We gotta hold on
Ready or not
You live for the fight when that's all that you've got"

"Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need"

Nick's car squealed to a stop outside of the BioTech headquarters. He leapt out, keeping low behind the line of squad cars. He crouched down next to one of the SWAT guys and asked hurriedly, "Any news?"

The SWAT guy shrugged and pointed him towards Brass. "I dunno; go ask someone who might."

Nodding once, Nick hurried to where Brass was in the middle of strained conversation with another SWAT guy. Brass looked over at Nick and nodded, indicating he should join them. "Nick, this is Captain Smith in charge of SWAT," said Brass.

Nick nodded cordially at him. "Nick Stokes, Crime Lab," he offered.

Captain Smith nodded at him as well before turning back to Brass. "Jim, I understand your concern, but this is a hostage situation. Someone's life is at stake."

"And if we don't get that antidote," said Brass impatiently, "an officer will lose his life."

Nick's heart dropped. "What's the problem?" he asked quietly, looking at Brass worriedly.

Brass sighed and rubbed his forehead. "About twenty minutes ago, we got a call from Vince. He refuses to release both the CEO and the antidote, and he says if we storm the place, he'll kill the CEO and smash the antidote."

Eyes widening in reality of the situation. Nick switched his gaze to Captain Smith. "Well, what does he want for ransom?" he demanded.

Captain Smith shrugged helplessly. "He didn't give us a list of demands, just a threat of what he would do. We don't know what he wants or why he's doing this."

Brass looked over at Nick, worry etched in his eyes. "You know the most about him," said Brass. "What does he want?"

Frowning deeply, Nick said slowly, 'Everything he's done so far has been a kind of revenge trip. He wanted to make Patrick O'Neil pay for taking Marty, and he wanted to make BioTech pay for taking his job. But I don't…" Suddenly, he trailed off, eyes widening in realization and fear. "He wants to make us pay for figuring it out. He wants to make Greg pay."

Ashen faced, he sank onto the ground, blood pounding in his ears. "He's not going to give up the antidote," he whispered hollowly, the reality of it settling into his stomachs like a load of bricks. "Greg is going to die."

He felt someone pull him up off the ground, and he looked over to see Grissom helping him up with Catherine, Warrick and Sara behind him. "What're you guys doing here?" he asked dazedly.

Warrick raised an eyebrow at him. "What, did you think we were gonna leave you here all by yourself to wait this out?" He gripped Nick's arm and pulled him into a brief hug. "I got your back, remember?'

Nick smiled widely as he hugged Warrick back. "I remember," he said. "I remember." He pulled away and wiped his eyes with one hand. "Thanks."

Sara looked at Grissom and asked, "What do we do now?"

Grissom looked at them all evenly. "We wait." He looked over at the SWAT members checking their guns and ammo and sighed. Looking back at them, he added, "We wait, and we pray."

"I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life"

Greg blinked wearily as he woke and looked around him. Still in the morgue, still waiting for a salvation that may never come. He was shaking still, he realized, but not in the violent way he had been before. The pain was duller, too, but whether or not that was due to the morphine, he didn't know. He looked over at Doc Robbins, who was snoring slightly. "Doc," he croaked weakly, then louder. "Doc!"

Doc Robbins woke with a start. 'Oh, you're awake," he said relievedly. "For now at least." He peered closely at Greg. "How're you feeling?"

Greg shrugged. "Better, I guess," he said slowly. "Shaking still, but I don't think that's going to stop, is it?"

Looking sympathetically over his glasses at Greg, Doc Robbins shook his head. "No, I don't think it will." He paused, then asked, "How's the pain?"

"Not as bad," said Greg honestly, "but that'll probably start back up again, too, right?" He didn't wait for Doc Robbins to reply before he asked quietly, "Where's Nick?"

Doc Robbins looked worriedly at him. "Now, I don't want you to be worried, but he's at BioTech. There's a situation there."

Instantly, Greg sat up, alert. "Why, what's happening?" he demanded, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"They found Vince. He's a t BioTech, holding BioTech's CEO and the antidote hostage." Doc Robbins said the words slowly and deliberately, trying to keep Greg calm. "Now, you need to stay calm. There's nothing you can do."

Greg wasn't buying any of it, though. "He's at BioTech with a madman who's holding my only chance at getting out of this alive hostage and I'm supposed to be calm?" exploded Greg, anger and helplessness raging in his eyes. "If I know Nick—and I do—he's going to try everything in his power to get that antidote." A sudden thought struck him and he paled. "He'd even give up his life. He'd sacrifice himself for me." Looking wildly around, he tried to stand. "I've got to stop him. I can't let him do something stupid."

Doc Robbins pushed him back onto the table, putting a shot of something in Greg's IV. "Greg, you need to stay calm. I've given you a sedative, so you'll probably fall asleep shortly." He smoothed the hair off of Greg's forehead with gentle concern. "Nick will be fine," he said softly.

Greg's eyes closed as he slid into a drug-induced sleep, and he whispered, "Nicky…" before he fell asleep.

Doc Robbins sighed and looked over at the clock on the wall, watching despairingly as the red second hand ticked onward. Less than 72 hours. Hope was fading with each tick of the clock.

"Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet"

Nick rubbed his eyes wearily and blinked at his watch. 1:12 AM. Sighing heavily, he squinted through the blackness, straining to see inside the darkened BioTech windows.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to see Grissom behind him. "Hey," said Nick softly.

"Hey," replied Grissom. He looked worriedly at Nick. 'You want to get some sleep? I'll take watch if you want."

Nick smiled but shook his head. "I'd love to, but I'd never forgive myself if I miss out the action going down."

"You need to sleep, Nick," said Grissom sternly, concern in his eyes. "You're of no use to Greg if you're dead on your feet."

"I know, I know," sighed Nick, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Grissom. "I just feel so helpless, knowing I can't do anything."

Grissom looked at him sympathetically and said quietly, "You're not Superman, Nick. You're not invincible."

Shaking his head and laughing mirthlessly, Nick said quietly, "I have to be, Griss, because who else will be invincible for Greg? Who else will be his Superman?"

They stood in silence for a few moments until Grissom offered quietly, "I'll get you some coffee then, to keep you awake."

Nick didn't need to say 'thank you'; it was understood. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at the dim outline of the building in front of him. He would be Greg's Superman, even if it killed him.

Doc Robbins sighed deeply. It had been (luckily) a quiet week at the morgue, and as such, he was caught up on his paperwork. He had already tried working out, playing solitaire, and watching Greg sleep. He was bored.

Greg had been asleep for a long time, and if it weren't for the fact that Doc knew he needed to rest, he would've been worried. As it was, he checked about once every half hour to make sure Greg hadn't slipped into a coma.

Sighing again, Doc Robbins unconsciously rubbed his leg, feeling the hint of phantom pain that had plagued him in the years after he'd lost his legs. He glanced over at Greg and sighed deeply.

The autopsy of the Senator had revealed massive muscle death in the legs, and since Greg was already feeling pain, it was quite logical that he would too.

If Greg's legs atrophied, they'd have to be amputated. There was too much risk otherwise. Of course, Doc conceded, if his legs atrophied, chances were that Greg would not live long enough for them to amputate.

Looking back at the clock, Doc Robbins felt his eyes struggle to stay open as he looked back at Greg's peaceful face. It was going to be a long wait.

"Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I would swear that there's someone somewhere
Watching me"

Nick woke up with a start, blinking rapidly to try and keep himself from falling back asleep. He looked around and wondered aloud, "What time is it?"

Grissom's voice next to him replied, "Nine o'clock in the morning."

Looking over at him, Nick stretched and yawned before asking without thinking, "Where am I?" Suddenly, he remembered, and he closed his mouth and glared at Grissom. "You let me fall asleep," he said accusingly.

Grissom shifted from his position on the curb of the sidewalk and looked guilty. "You were exhausted," he protested. "I knew I couldn't convince you to go home and sleep, so I figured if you fell asleep, I'd just let you."

Nick wanted to be angry with him, but couldn't find it in himself. Grissom had meant well, and truth be told, he had needed the sleep. He settled for glaring mutinously at Grissom instead. "Well, don't make it a habit." He paused before adding, "Hopefully, though, we'll be out of this mess by tonight." Frowning, Grissom gripped his shoulder briefly and said quietly, 'We will, Nicky. We will."

Nick nodded once and stood, brushing off his jeans. "I'm gonna go talk to Brass, see if anything changed overnight," he told Grissom, leaning down to help the older man off the sidewalk.

Nodding as well, Grissom told Nick, "If you want some breakfast, there're bagels over in my car, Oh, and here." He handed Nick a cup of coffee.

Eyebrows raised, Nick smiled gratefully and took a sip. His grateful look turned into one of confusion. "This is Greg's coffee," he said slowly.

Grissom nodded once. "I thought we might all need a reminder of who it is we're fighting for."

Nick smiled slowly, Grissom's words, hauntingly reminiscent of Warrick's, echoing in his mind. "Who it is we're fighting for." He and Grissom headed over to Brass. "Jim, have we got anything?"

"Hey, Nick," said Brass, turning to survey BioTech. "Not much changed while you were off in dream land. We've had no more contact from Vince. He could have killed Thomas and himself, and we wouldn't know about it."

"No," said Nick instantly. "That's not his style. He wants us to pay, so he won't do anything until he knows Greg is dead."

Captain Smith entered the conversation, frowning. "But how does he know that Greg is infected?" he asked. "Did you tell him when you visited him at his house?"

Nick shook his head. "We didn't have to. He sent the letter laced with enough poison to kill fifteen grown men. He had to know that more than one person would get infected, and that we'd search for the antidote."

"Ok, so he knows we won't do anything in case he destroys the antidote," chimed in Brass, rubbing his forehead. "So then—" Suddenly, he stopped, looking past Nick at someone behind him. "Marty, what're you doing here?" he shouted.

Marty Resner crossed over to him, the epitome of grim determination. "Captain Brass," he said, shaking his hand. "I'm here to help out."

Grissom looked at him and frowned deeply. "That's very nice of you, Mr. Resner, but this is a stand off and you're at risk by even being here."

Brass gave him a look and said in softer tones, "I know you want to help, Marty, but it's not your fault. Besides, there's nothing you can do."

Marty smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, there is something I can do. Vince wants me. That's what he's after. If I got to him, I can get him to give up the antidote and the hostage."

"No," said Brass, cutting him off. "It's too risky. You'd be putting yourself into danger, and I can't allow that."

"Wait," said Nick, this time cutting Brass off. "It could work. We put him in a bulletproof vest and send him in, and he could pull it off."

A strange look came over Brass' face and he said softly, "A bulletproof vest is no guarantee."

Nick's heart clenched as he remembered when Brass was shot. Reaching out and touching Brass' arm, he said quietly, "Your situation was different. This time, Marty knows what Vince wants. Otherwise, we're just waiting for Greg to die."

Brass nodded slowly in understanding. "All right," he said hoarsely. He looked critically at Marty. "Are you sure about this?"

Nodding once, Marty said quietly, "Pat's death was my fault. I can't let your CSI, Greg, die—I can't have his blood on my hands, too."

Nick's eyes involuntarily filled with tears and he reached out and grasped Marty's arm in silent thanks before Brass led Marty to get properly suited up. He turned to Grissom, looking as him resolutely. "Are you ok with this?" Grissom nodded once. Nick nodded as well. "I want to go with him. As back up."

"Nick, you can't," said Grissom, frowning deeply. "You could get shot or screw everything up. It's too much of a liability, Nicky." He paused, then his voice softened. "I know you want to do this for Greg, but you can't always be the hero."

"I know," snapped Nick, temper flaring up, "but I have done nothing so far to help Greg. I'm going in there, with or without your permission."

"Nick—" started Grissom, then he paused and seemed to deflate. "Be careful."

Nodding once, Nick strode off to find Brass and Marty, determined to do whatever he could to help Greg.

"Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like the fire in my blood"

Thirty minutes later, Nick and Marty were suited up and ready to go in. Nick touched his gun longingly before handing it over to Grissom.

Taking a deep breath, Nick glanced over at Marty, who looked pale. "You ready for this?"

Marty looked back at him, resolute behind his fear. "I have to be. Too much has already happened on my behalf." He looked over at the darkened building, his jaw set. "This ends now."

Nick glanced back at Grissom, who squeezed Nick's shoulder wordlessly. Nick nodded once. "Ok, let's go."

They set off down the driveway towards the front entrance. Marty put his hands up in the air and shouted, "Vince! I know you're in there. It's Marty."

There was a brief silence until Vince called back, "Who's that with you?"

Nick called, "It's Nick Stokes from the crime lab. We met at your house." He paused before adding in a slightly strangled voice, "I was the one with the bad vibe."

"Oh right," said Vince. "The cute one."

Despite how tense the situation was, Marty had to hide a smile as he looked at Nick, who blushed. Marty looked back at the building and said loudly, "Vince come outside. We want to talk to you."

Vince answered dryly, "Yeah, sure, I'll come outside and let myself get captured by the police." He paused. "No, Thomas and I are quite comfortable where we are, aren't we, Thomas?"

A strangled sob from the CEO floated out of the window, followed by Vince's soft laugh. Nick swallowed hard. "Then let us come in there," he suggested. "We have a deal to make with you."

"A deal, huh? You must be getting desperate. Whoever's infected must be getting worse."

Nick's jaw tightened and he opened his mouth angrily to retort, but Marty put his hand on his arm and shook his head warningly. "Come on, Vince, let us come in," he said before adding, "I want to see you. I've missed you."

This did the trick. Vince said reluctantly, "Alright…but any sign of guns or something and Mr. Wilson gets popped in the head."

Looking back at Grissom, Nick nodded once before he and Marty stepped up to the front door. There was a buzz and a click as the electronic lock unlocked and Nick and Marty walked into the lobby.

Vince was in there, holding a gun to Thomas Wilson's head. Unlike most people who had just taken a man hostage, Vince looked calm. He looked over at Nick warily, his gaze softening as his eyes moved to Marty. "What did you want to talk about?"

"We want you to let Mr. Wilson and the antidote go," said Marty, quietly and firmly.

Vince laughed aloud. "Why would I let Thomas and the antidote go? We were just beginning to have fun."

Nick bristled, but managed to keep his voice calm as he said pleadingly, "Please, Vince. Your poison didn't just infect the senator."

Raising one eyebrow, Vince said casually, "I know. I hope it was a police officer."

"It wasn't," said Nick sharply, eyes burning. "He isn't. He's my friend…my boyfriend." He paused then added quietly, "Don't let him die. Don't take him away from me."

Marty stepped in. "Pat took me away from you, I know. He was wrong, and you were right to kill him, so I could come back to you." His voice was soft and persuasive, soothing Vince into believing him. "Greg doesn't need to die, Vince. You don't need to take him away from Nick."

When Vince still didn't look convinced, Marty added, almost inaudibly, "I can't come back to you if you kill Greg. I want to be yours again, I need to be yours, but I can't if you don't give Nick the antidote and Mr. Wilson."

Vince lowered the gun from Thomas' head. "You really mean it?" he breathed, eyes not leaving Marty's. "You really love me?" Marty nodded slowly, and Vince said hungrily, "Tell me you love me."

Marty swallowed hard but didn't look away. "I love you," he whispered. He took one step forward, eyes searching Vince's. "Let it go," he whispered. "It's all over now."

Beginning to cry softly, Vince reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial containing the antidote. Giving it to Marty, he said, "I'm so glad you came back to me."

Marty quickly handed the vial to Nick before taking Vince's hand. "C'mon," he said coaxingly. "Let's go outside, so we can go home."

"Home," muttered Vince dazedly as he followed Marty towards the entrance. "I want to go home."

Keeping up a soft, soothing dialogue with Vince, Marty glanced over at Nick and nodded. Nick nodded back before taking the CEO's arm and saying in undertones, "C'mon, let's get out of here."

The CEO nodded mutely and they both exited after Vince and Marty. The SWAT team stood at the ready on the edge of the property, guns drawn and trained on Vince. As he followed Marty down the driveway.

Vince blinked in the bright light and said, laughing slightly, "Guess the joke's on Pat, huh? Cuz you loved me this whole time."

Something seemed to snap in Marty and he snarled, "No, Vince, the joke's on you. I loved Pat, and I could never love you again."

Vince's eyes flashed and he raised his gun and howled, "You lied to me!" Marty just glared back at him defiantly, daring him to pull the trigger.

A gunshot rang out and Nick pushed the CEO onto the ground, covering him instinctively. He watched in horror as Marty crumpled to the ground, a blossom of red spreading over his shirt.

A burst of shots came from the SWAT team, and Vince fell, gun clattering from his hand. Nick crawled over to Marty and looked down at him. "Jesus," he swore softly.

"Nick," groaned Marty, eyes vacant. "Nick…take the antidote to Greg. Tell him…I'm sorry."

"This wasn't your fault, Marty," said Nick, tearing off a strip of Marty's shirt and pressing it against the wound. "You hold on, alright? The paramedics are coming."

"No," breathed Marty, eyes struggling to stay open. "It's better this way. I can be with Pat now, forever."

Nick blinked back tears as he pressed harder on the gunshot wound, even though he knew it was in vain. He looked Marty in the eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

Nodding once in acceptance, Marty lay his head back against the ground. Nick knew he was dead. He leaned forward and closed Marty's now-sightless eyes. "Thank you."

Doc Robbins yawned and glanced at his watch. He stood stiffly and shuffled over to Greg. He pulled out his mini-flashlight and flickered the light at Greg's eyes. No reaction. Frowning, he did it again. Still nothing.

Suddenly, Greg's body started seizing violently. He began making choking sounds and Doc quickly realized he wasn't breathing.

"David, call 9-1-1!" he shouted at his assistant as he began CPR. "Come on, Greggo, stay with me," he said angrily as he kept up his compressions.

Greg's body suddenly stopped seizing, and his eyes closed as he went limp…

"I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night"

A/N: Cliffie...again...sorry.