Hey everyone, or at least the maybe three people who are still reading this lol. I'm so sorry it looked like I'd more or less abandoned this fic, I haven't really got any excuses apart from life getting in the way, plus a serious case of writer's block yet again. But ya'll will be please to know I've been writing loads (well, as much as work and a child will allow) over the past few days. I've finally finished chapter twelve and made real headway with chapter thirteen so here's hoping I'm finally over the hump I hit.
Hopefully anyone who's still reading this will enjoy the newest chapter.

Brass and Grissom continued to stare at the flashing cursor, neither knowing whether to move or wait and see what happened.
"What the hell is going on?" Brass repeated, right hand still gripping his weapon.
"I don't know," Grissom responded, his eyes never leaving the screen. Brass dug in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and pressing a button.
"No service." The other man finally tore his gaze from the computer. "First time that's happened since we got here." Brass continued.
"I don't like this Jim."
Grissom was about to stand, intent on gathering his team when movement on the screen caught his attention.

P-A-L-M-E-R, D-A-V-I-D

The hour glass appeared, signalling the search.
A few second passed before the monitor yeilded it's results. Two pairs of eyes scanned the information, both widening as they felt the twinge of recognition. Decades old but still palpable.
"Gil..."

The aforementioned's brain was a blaze of recognition. Synapse after synapse fired, producing a movie reel of flashbacks.
He was a CSI 3, Catherine a CSI 2 and Brass was in charge of the unit. A rape homicide, slam dunk by anyone's standards but still received a fair amount of media coverage. Ample evidence, instant suspect in the boy next door, DNA match. It was textbook. He'd taken Catherine out for a drink after, celebrating her first major solve; it had been her hard work collecting and analysing the DNA evidence that had cemented the case against David Palmer.
His brain then flashed to the trial, a snap shot from his time on the witness stand. A young boy, no older than 10, sitting alone at the back of the court room. His eyes boring into Gil during every second of his testimony.
David Palmer had a younger brother.

Jolting back to the present, Grissom's gaze landed back on the laptop, flicking over the telltale light beside the webcame lens.

"I know you know I can see you."
The level voice from the speakers raised the hair on the back of both men's necks. "I also know you're probably wondering how I did this. My skills are completely self taught. Had to spend those long nights in foster care somehow. Did you know David was my guardian when you locked him up, or did you guys just not care?"
Brass tried surreptitiously to pull out his cell phone, but the disembodied voice didn't miss a thing.
"Don't bother with your phones, I set up signal jammers all around the perimeter. Total radio silence. No cavalry riding to the rescue. And I wouldn't hold out much hope on Sam Braun's security guards."
The laptop screen flickered, the case file replaced by CCTV footage of the security hut, four prone bodies slumped in chairs and on the floor. "The CO gas I pumped in there didn't seem to agree with them."

Grissom risked a quick glance at Brass, knowing the same thoughts were running through his head. They had no way of knowing where in the house their captor was. No way of communicating with each other without him knowing; it was obvious now that the house was covered by cameras which had been tapped into. But most frightening of all, they had no way to warn the rest of the team. The lights had been out for a while now, yet no one had appeared.

Grissom felt his heart clench.
They could all already be dead.

Catherine had been lying on the bed reading when the lights went out.
"What the hell?"
She tossed the book down and grabbed for her phone, the dim green light offering only minimal illumination in the gloom. She noticed the no service message on the display and frowned. Something didn't feel right.
A thump followed by a curse drifted to her ears as a dark figure entered the room.
"Sara?"
"Cath what the hell happened to the lights? I was coming down the hall when they went out."
"I don't know. I've lost cell service too."
A quick glance at Sara's own phone confirmed the same thing.
"I don't like this. Where is everyone?"
"I haven't seen anyone for a few hours."
"We need to find Brass and Grissom so we can figure out what's going on."
Shifting her phone to her left hand Sara reached behind her back and pulled her gun from the concealed holster on her belt. She raised an eyebrow at her friend's audible relaxation, an expression that was returned by the red head.
"We're being stalked by a psycho who may have just found us and the lights have gone out, forgive me if I'm a little relieved that you're packing heat."
Rolling her eyes Sara motioned for Catherine to follow her, keeping her gun drawn but low as they moved down the corridor.
"The boy's rooms are down there."

Sara turned the corner at Catherine's instruction, the strawberry blonde switching on her own cell phone flashlight to enable the brunette to stow hers and keep both hands on her gun.
"I think Greg's room is around here..."
"What the hell!"
The man in question appeared in front of the two women, hair even crazier than usual and clad in pyjamas. Catherine barely stifled an eyeroll.
"Light's are out, something feels funky, need to find the rest of the team, we've already had this conversation Greg. Let's go."
Greg fell in step behind Sara and the trio moved along in silence.

"Do you guys hear that?"
Sara huffed in exasperation.
"Greg now is not the time for a fart joke."
"What am I, twelve?"
"My guess would've been closer to eight."
He shot Sara a withering look.
"That clicking noise, do you hear it?"
They all stopped, hardly breathing. A soft, metalic clicking permeated the heavy silence.
"There!"
Catherine pointed to the vent slightly ahead of them in the wall just below the ceiling.
"I do not like the sound of that."
Sara and Greg nodded.

"There's something in the air con system. Let's find Warrick, Brass and Griss and get the hell out of here."
Sara raised her gun and moved forward, Greg and Catherine close behind her. As they passed under the vent it let out a hissing sound, a small puff of smoke pluming and curling toward the ceiling.
"Get down!"
The three dropped to the floor, Catherine grunting in pain as she landed heavily on her cast. The air above them began slowly to cloud as some kind of gas was pumped from the vent.
"Stay low," Sara yelled, pulling the neck of her t-shirt over her nose and mouth as she began to crawl awkwardly forward, her gun arm remaining trained ahead of her. "Warrick's room must be along here somewhere."

Their voices melded together, an untuned chorus calling for their friend. As they moved, a wave of dizziness hit Catherine. She put her right arm out to steady herself but the door next to her gave way. She cried out as she tumbled into the room, rolling until she collided with something solid. Her head swam as she tried to right herself, the sound of her own name barely permeating the fog around her.
Tilting her body she pushed herself up with her elbows, as her eyes met wide glassy brown ones.

Everything zeroed into focus and she gasped, pumping her legs to scramble away from the motionless body.
Then she screamed.

Hope ya'll enjoyed it

Lily
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