Author's Notes: Hello! I'm sorry this took so incredibly long to write, I had a really hard time getting started with this chapter...then when I started writing, I had a hard time stopping. Lol. Hope you enjoy it...thanks to everyone who replied to the last bit, hope you continue to enjoy it. Please let me know what you're thinking!

Jenny

Chapter Three:

"Stay in your car, do not step foot onto that property, do you understand me?" Grissom barked into the phone, "You have backup on the way, ETA 5 minutes. I know you're eager to get to him, but do not do anything that would jeopardize your own safety. Do you understand me, Sara?"

Sara sighed angrily, banging her fist against the steering wheel, "Grissom, it's not like I don't have a gun! What if she's killing him right now? What if 5 minutes from now is too late?"

"I don't like waiting any more than you do, Sara, but you've got to hold tight until your backup arrives. Nick and I will be there shortly after PD. Do not under any circumstance enter the premises until you have authority to do so." Grissom warned, "Your job is on the line, Sara."

"Okay!" Sara snapped, hanging up the phone and hitting her steering wheel once more. The house was dark, but she wasn't fooled. Greg was in there, and he needed help. It was her job, her duty, her responsibility to love, honor, cherish him and most importantly, keep him safe from harm. Sitting in her car would not accomplish that.

She glanced down at her watch anxiously, wishing in vain that time would speed up, that the backup would speed up, anything that could get her to her husband sooner. Going into that house, especially alone, would compromise the case, and she was very aware of it. She had a definite conflict of interest, something the jury would eat up so fast that a conviction would be a miracle. Going in to save him herself would be a very, very bad idea. The fact that she had no warrant only served to further damage their budding case. Of course, knowing and feeling were two totally different things, and after only a few minutes of hesitation, Sara clipped her gun into her holster and made a move towards the doorway. Greg didn't have time to wait for backup, he needed help now.

She banged on the door three times, yelling, "Las Vegas Police! Open the door!"

She was met with silence, the lights not even bothering to flicker on, and after repeating her statement twice more, she reached for the doorknob, grasping it firmly and trying to turn it. As she suspected, it wouldn't budge. She knew that if she waited for the cops to arrive, they could get the door open, but she had already wasted valuable time sitting in her truck, doing nothing. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she made the decision to retain control of the situation. Using the butt of her gun, she smashed the door's window in, reaching through to unlock the door and let herself in.

After she lost her job for insubordination, she could now be tried for breaking and entering and obstruction of justice. She found herself unable to be concerned with those details, however, as she cautiously stepped into the house, her back against the wall as she shouted, "Las Vegas Police!"

It didn't take long to clear the first two rooms, searching in vain for any trace of her husband, or the person who had taken him. As she listened to the chilling silence, she could only pray she wasn't too late. She stumbled upon the kitchen next in her search for Greg, barely able to suppress her gag reflex as she noticed the stove turned on, a large pot on top of it. On the counter laid a female torso, which she could only assume came from their previous victim.

Sensing someone behind her, she spun around, her gun clasped in her trembling hands. She wasn't surprised to find no one there, she had been fighting these paranoid sensations since she had been at the crime scene, it had to be only a figment of her overactive imagination. Moving towards the next doorway, she quickly scanned the hallway, searching for any quick clues that may lead her to Greg faster...blood, smudges, anything. With a frustrated scowl, she kicked open the next door, her eyes widening and her face paling at the sight.

Bound and gagged, secured to the floor, was Greg, barely conscious and soaked in blood. She ducked into the room, looking for their suspect, relieved to find Greg the only occupant in the room. She knelt down beside him, her hands gently going for his neck to find a pulse. She was finally able to breathe again once she found his steady heartbeat, and with a quiet whisper, she promised that she'd be right back for him.

The moment she stood, she realized they weren't alone anymore, but before her brain could send the signal to her body to react, a baseball bat crashed over her skull, sending her into total blackness.

--

The first thing Grissom noticed when he pulled onto the curb at the crime scene was Sara's empty SUV.

"You don't think she--?" Nick asked worriedly, glancing towards the broken window in the doorway, "Not after you warned her--"

"It's Sara." Grissom replied flatly, the door open before the car had even rolled to a complete stop, "Who knows what was going through her head."

The two men made their way to Brass, who had arrived with his team only moments earlier. Brass nodded towards the doorway, "We've got men checking out the house right night, house appears vacant, but looks can be deceiving. We're about to head in, you guys can follow, but at a distance."

"Sara's in there." Grissom said quietly, his voice urgent, "And if she didn't come right back out, that means Greg's in there too."

Brass nodded, his jaw tight with concern, "We'll get them out, Gil, just don't go off half-cocked and get yourselves into trouble as well."

Brass turned away from the two CSIs, hurriedly walking to a group of officers who had just returned from the back of the house. Nick glanced worriedly at the dark house, asking softly, "Do you think they're okay?"

"I don't know, Nick, we're just going to have to trust their instincts and training. Neither of them would go down without a fight." Grissom replied, a nervous edge to his normally calm voice, "All we can do now is wait."

"And pray." Nick murmured, looking upwards in a silent prayer. He wasn't necessarily a religious man, but while he himself had been kidnaped he had thrown a few desperate prayers out, and he had made it out safely. Whether it was divine intervention or the skills of his colleagues that rescued him, a few extra words never hurt anything.

Time seemed to stand still as the police took their positions, making a move on the house with their guns drawn. Grissom and Nick entered the house, staying in the foyer as one by one, each room was cleared. Nick glanced towards Grissom, his back against the wall, "Should we pull our weapons, just in case?"

"Let the cops do their job, Nicky, and we'll just wait here to do ours." Grissom replied distractedly, listening to the activity bustling through the rest of the house, "If they're not here, I want this house processed top to bottom, we can call in--"

Grissom's instructions were cut off by the distinct pop of gunfire. Automatically both men reached for their guns, Nick ducking down by a nearby table while Grissom moved to the corner on the other side of the door.

"We need an ambulance!" Brass called from the back side of the house, "Greene, Brooks! Head out back! Madison, Harper! Go through the front and cut her off!"

Grissom pulled out his phone, quickly punching in some numbers and barking to the dispatcher that they would need medics at their location. As he and Nick secured their weapons, Brass called out, "Grissom! Stokes!"

Grissom and Nick cautiously made their way towards Brass's voice, fear building in both men's chests. Grissom made it to the doorway first, unable to hide his concern and fear as he saw his two CSIs bound on the floor, soaked in blood. Behind him, Nick paled at the sight, pushing past Grissom to kneel next to Greg, checking for a pulse. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his chest as he found a pulse, and he turned to his boss, who was doing the same to Sara's limp form, "He's alive."

"So is she." Grissom responded, "Untie him."

Nick went to work at once to free his friend, only to find that in addition to the ropes securing Greg's hands and arms together, nails had been placed in the skin between his thumb and index finger, fastening him to the ground. Barely able to keep back the bile rising in his throat, he turned to Grissom, "His hands are nailed to the floor."

Grissom's expression went from concern to horror as he peered behind Greg's unconscious form to validate Nick's statement. Turning to Brass, he ordered, "Jim, go get me my kit."

Grissom moved to Greg's side, using a flashlight to get a closer look at Greg's hands, while Nick took the opportunity to survey the rest of the damage to his weakened body. There were several bruises on his face, as well as a cut that ran from his left temple to the top of his right eyebrow. From the bruising around it, it appeared as if he had been struck with a sharp object. His shirt was torn, to reveal his blood-soaked chest. On his right side, a bit of flesh had been removed and haphazardly bandaged, by the amount of blood coming from the wound, Nick could tell that it was deep and new. On his left side, a smaller chunk of flesh had been removed, although the bleeding on that side had stopped.

Unable to look any closer, Nick let Grissom take over, moving to Sara's unconscious form, checking her for any injuries. A large knot had formed on the back of her skull, although there was no blood loss associated with this injury. Aside from the contusion, there appeared to be no other injuries. Squeezing her hand, he softly urged her to open her eyes. His chest ached as he stared at two of his best friends lying on the floor in front of him. How could someone do this?

He jumped as the gunfire began again, instinctively reaching for his own weapon until Grissom quietly told him to disregard the action going on outside. In the distance, sirens wailed. Nick squeezed Sara's hand once more, whispering softly, "Sara, wake up darlin', you're worrying me."

He nearly dropped her hand as she shifted slightly, and as he squeezed her hand again, he called her name a little louder, "Sara, open those eyes girl." he looked towards Grissom, "She's coming to."

"Can you bring her into another room? I don't want her to see Greg." Grissom responded, briefly glancing in their direction, "Call Catherine, ask her to get someone in here to process this place."

Nick nodded, effortlessly lifting Sara, bringing her to the living room and setting her on the sofa, unconcerned with the fact that he could be contaminating possible evidence. As he continued to hold Sara's hand, he used the other to dial Catherine's cell.

"Willows."

"It's Nick. We're at the house, we've got Greg."

"How is he?"

"He's pretty hurt, but he's alive." Nick replied, "Sara's been injured, but she's going to be okay. Grissom wants you to get someone in here to process the house."

"Did you catch the suspect?"

A bullet broke the window glass and Nick ducked slightly, making sure he was clear from being shot, "Uh, I'd say they're working on it."

"Is that gunfire!" Catherine exclaimed, "Nick?"

"I'm okay." Nick replied nervously, hesitating as he listened to the activity outside, "I think they've got her now. It's okay, they're outside, we're in."

"That doesn't make you safe."

"We're okay. Ambulance just got here for Greg." Nick commented, "Are you going to meet us at the hospital?"

"Yeah, I'll call someone from days to cover the scene, I'll grab Warrick and meet you there." Catherine responded, "Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

Nick hung up the phone, turning his attention back to Sara, who had started to moan softly. He squeezed her hand tightly, "That's it, Sara, open your eyes."

After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open, filled with terror. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she started to panic, pulling away from Nick with a yelp of fear.

"Sara? Can you hear me? It's Nick. You're okay, we're here." Nick soothed, relieved to see her start to relax.

"Nick?" Sara asked groggily, "Nicky?"

"I'm right here, you're going to be okay, you just have a nasty bump on the head." Nick replied quietly, "They caught her, you're safe."

Sara brought a hand to her aching head, asking urgently, "Greg?"

"Medics are here, he's alive, he's doing good." Nick replied, trying to calm her down as she started to grow anxious again, "He's going to be fine, Sara. You did good, you found him."

Sara's eyes drooped closed again, and Nick gently tapped her cheek, "No, no. You've got to stay awake now."

He looked up as the paramedics made their way through the room, hastily removing Greg from the house, Grissom close behind as he called out, "I'm riding with Greg, I'll meet you at the hospital."

Brass appeared next, walking towards Nick and Sara with a concerned expression, "They've dispatched another ambulance, should be here in just a few minutes. How is she?"

"She came to long enough to ask for Greg." Nick replied, "She was pretty out of it, pupils are uneven...probably just a nasty concussion."

Brass nodded, "Suspect was shot, still alive, very uncooperative."

"I heard." Nick replied quietly, looking down towards Sara as she shifted slightly, "Sara? Want to open your eyes for me?"

Sara's slowly obliged, and she began to struggle against Nick to sit up. Taking a seat beside her, he gently helped her move to a sitting position, not too surprised when she had to lean against him to balance herself.

"You have a nasty bump to the head." Nick said soothingly, "How do you feel?"

Sara blinked a few times before turning her head to stare at Nick, "What? Oh..." She paused, rubbing her forehead with a frown, "My head hurts."

Nick squeezed her hand, concerned by the slight slur of her voice, "Do you remember what happened?"

"Greg..." Sara moaned, her eyes widening slightly as she turned to Nick, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, he's on his way to the hospital." Nick soothed, "What do you remember?"

"I came in...I broke the law, I'm going to go to jail." Sara muttered softly, trying to organize her thoughts, "I looked for Greg, but I didn't find him right away."

"What did you see?" Nick asked quietly, exchanging a nervous glance with Brass as he listened to Sara's patchy memory of what had taken place, "Can you remember?"

Sara pulled away from Nick, her face paling rapidly as she wrapped her arms around her waist, trembling slightly. "Yes."

"What happened, Sara?" Brass asked quietly.

Sara's head shot towards the detective, obviously surprised to see him standing there. She moaned as her head began to throb harder, and she brought one hand to the back of her head, lightly touching the tender spot. "She was hiding, I didn't see her... She was cooking... I thought someone was there, but I didn't see her."

"Cooking?" Nick asked, looking up towards Brass for confirmation. The older man shrugged, and Nick glanced up towards the kitchen, "Did she hit you in the kitchen?"

"No." Sara replied, grimacing as the ambulance sirens caused her headache to spike, "I was with Greg."

She moaned softly, her hand shakily moving back to her abdomen, "Nick, I feel sick."

"You've got a concussion." Nick soothed, "You'll be okay."

"Nicky, she was eating bits of Greg."

TBC