A/N: Wow, it's been awhile. Sorry about that. I'm really trying for faster updates, but my in-progress stories just do not want to be written for some reason. I blame the evil members of the university system for ensuring I have no spare time. But, I digress. I know I've said it before, but this time I mean it…I will definitely be updating more frequently. The winter has disappeared, and spring was non-existant, and it's already too warm to do too much outside. Too bad for my fitness levels, but great news for my computer (which has been experiencing a great deal of neglect).

Bribes help the process along. :D

Thanks to Emmithar and Kegel for pushing me not to delete the little I had written of this chapter. I love to know what everyone thinks, good or bad…although I do prefer good. :D.

Jenny

Chapter Eight:

"Sara? Sara, can you hear me? Sara?"

Sara's eyes slowly blinked open, causing her to wince as the bright light above her assaulted her eyes. The light caused a surge of pain to wash through her body, and she quickly tensed, closing her eyes once more. She recognized that voice, although her hazy mind couldn't place where she knew it from. What was going on? Why was she on the hard tile floor? What happened?

"Sara? I need you to open your eyes and look at me, alright? Can you hear me?"

Hank. Hank Pedigrew. Great, what was that jerk doing in her apartment? She hadn't seen him in years, why was he hovering over her now? The haze surrounding her mind started to clear, and she tried to open her eyes once more. Hank was a paramedic. If he was in her apartment, it had to be a business call. But why would there be a paramedic in her apartment? Why was there so much noise?

"Sara, don't go back to sleep, I need you to open your eyes."

Hank sighed heavily, placing Sara's hand on the ground as it went limp, his patient obviously slipping back into unconsciousness. He looked up at his partner, "Get the backboard, we'll have to transport her."

Kyle, his partner, hurried off, leaving Hank and Sara in the company of the two officers securing the small apartment. Brushing the hair from Sara's forehead, he sighed once more. At one point, he had serious feelings for this woman, and even though it had been many years ago, it was impossible to keep them from resurfacing in the wake of her current disaster. He lifted her hand once more, glancing down at his watch as he began to monitor her pulse once more.

"How is she?"

Hank looked up, his expression hardening a bit as he met the eye of Catherine Willows. He had never gotten along poorly with any of the CSI team, but ever since he and Sara had broken up, Catherine had made it a point to give him the cold shoulder. Glancing back down at his unresponsive patient, he responded in, what he hoped was, a cool, professional voice, "She hasn't regained complete consciousness since we arrived, although I don't see any significant trauma. Cuts and abrasions, of course, from the broken glass, as well as a deep cut on her hand. Once we get her into the ambulance, we'll get that cleaned up. She's got a concussion, and possibly a broken wrist."

Catherine squatted beside the paramedic, snapping a few photographs of Sara's injuries, "She has defensive wounds."

Both were silent as Catherine glanced around the room, snapping pictures while making mental reminders of what to investigate further. "Is this where you found her?"

Hank nodded, motioning towards the opposite wall, which was covered in blood, "That was like that when we arrived; Sara was on the floor over here. We walked only from the doorway to Sara, uh, the victim, and we haven't touched anything."

"Thanks." Catherine replied, carefully moving towards the blood splatter, snapping photographs before pulling out a swab to collect a sample, "This is a lot of blood."

"Whoever received those injuries is probably in pretty bad shape right now." Hank affirmed, shaking his head in disgust. He had never really been close to Greg, but knowing that the blood probably came from the young CSI was enough to make his stomach turn. Glancing back down at Sara, he couldn't help but wonder why bad things always happened to the best of people. His thoughts were broken as Sara whimpered slightly, her eyes trying to flutter open once more.

"Sara, can you hear me? Open your eyes, okay?"

Sara moaned quietly, trying to force her eyelids to cooperate. Hank was in her apartment, and judging from the other voices, it was safe to assume Catherine was there with the police department. But why would they need the crime lab in their apartment? Maybe they were doing some further investigation of Greg's assault case. Her mind drifted to her husband's smiling face, and immediately her eyes shot open. Greg. Shattering glass. Alyssa Miller's taunting voice. The knife. The fight.

"Greg." She gasped, struggling to sit up, despite Hank's protests, "Where is he? Is he alright? Greg!"

"Breathe," Hank instructed, holding her down, "In and out, in and out. Calm down, Sara, it's going to be alright."

"Greg!" Sara shrieked, protesting against Hank's grasp, "Where is he? What did she do to him?"

Hank glanced over at Catherine, who looked hesitant about reassuring her colleague over the situation. He couldn't really blame her, there was a lot of blood, and they were probably dealing with the same psychopath that had previously taken the young investigator. Following his gaze, Sara's eyes too went towards her blonde coworker, "C..Catherine? Greg?"

"We don't know where Greg is." Catherine replied soothingly, moving towards the brunette and speaking in soft, maternal tones, "But we'll find him. I promise you, we'll find him."

Sara's eyes traveled from the blonde to the wall beside the blonde, which was covered in blood spatter. Her stomach turned and she quickly shut her eyes, her lip quivering as she tried to hold back tears, "How can you say that?"

Catherine wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her friend, but found her investigative training kicking in, telling her that she'd contaminate what little evidence the brunette had on her. With a heavy sigh, she contemplated what to say next. She knew that a person could only loose so much blood before their heart was unable to pump the vital substance to all organs, causing them to each shut down as the heart's rhythm became more and more unstable. He would lose consciousness, and as less blood made its way to his brain, it would be too late to save him. She didn't want to lie and sugar coat the situation; Sara was no fool, they had both been in this field long enough to know the chances of finding Greg alive and unharmed. At the same time, the couple had been through so much, it felt like she'd be pouring salt in an open wound to tell Sara it was unlikely they'd find her husband alive. She hesitated before speaking softly, trying to soothe the nearly hysterical brunette, "You and Greg are our family, and we don't let family down. When Nick was being stalked, did we let him down?"

"No."

"And when he was taken from a crime scene and buried alive, did we let him down?"

Sara's voice sounded strained as she shut her eyes once more, "No."

"And last time Greg was taken, did we let him down?"

"No." Sara murmured, "We saved him."

"Then don't worry about this, we're going to find him and we're going to save him. But you can't freak out, you need to calm down and keep a level head. Can you do that for me? For Greg?"

Sara nodded, tears escaping her closed eyelids, "Yes."

"Good girl." Catherine soothed, "Now let the paramedics take care of you, and as soon as you have a clean bill of health, we'll talk about what happened."

Sara nodded, already drifting back into unconsciousness as the throbbing in her head intensified once more. Catherine was right, they'd find Greg, even if she had to work behind the scenes and locate him herself. She had done it before, she could do it again. Alyssa wasn't going to win, and she'd do whatever it took to make sure that bitch got what she deserved.

--

"The blood spatter indicates three significant blunt force traumas. I took a sample of each and left it in DNA. It appears he was struck once, bringing him to his knees, then twice more, before he fell to the floor." Catherine explained, using a pen to indicate her findings on a series of photographs from Greg and Sara's apartment, "By the size of the blood pool, it would be a safe guess to say he was attacked before Sara, because he obviously remained in this position for awhile. Once they release her, she's going to come down here and give a statement. Sara had defensive wounds on both hands, as well as several deep bruises. I had Warrick meet her at the hospital to take photographs of her injuries and collect evidence from her. She's still unconscious, so who knows when she'll be available for questioning."

"Were there any signs of forced entry?" Nick asked, studying the photographs in front of him, "How did she-" he paused, receiving a stern look from Grissom, "How did the perpetrator get into the apartment?"

Catherine opened a folder to reveal another series of photographs, "There was a single gunshot found embedded in the wall opposite the kitchen window. The glass surrounding the window is fractured, indicating that the bullet was fired from outside the apartment. The window itself looks as if it has been tampered with, but when the first responding officer arrived on the scene, the window was shut, and there's no blood or any other evidence that she- the perp- entered or exited through the window. The door showed no signs of forced entry, and the landlord says the only ones who have keys to the apartment are himself, Sara and Greg, and the maintenance man. He showed us to the maintenance man's apartment, but he wasn't home. Landlord says he works two jobs, so Brass is heading over to the second jobsite. Whoever the perp was, either they let themselves in, or Greg and Sara knew them well enough to let them in without question."

"Okay, I want you to go back to the apartment complex and talk to a few of the neighbors, see if they saw or heard anything. Check for anything you might have missed the first time. Nick, you and I are going to pay Miss Miller a visit." Grissom ordered, rising to his feet, "Cath, I want you to check in regularly, and keep a uniform with you at all times, just in case this isn't tied into the first abduction. Also, call Warrick and tell him that once he's finished at the hospital, to check out the girl involved in the battery charges with Greg, make sure this isn't a lashing out by her or her family."

The three began to gather their belongings in a tense silence, each trying to make sense of the recent turn of events. The silence was broken, however, by the door bursting open, a slightly out of breath Brass on the other side, "We needs to get to the Miller residence, she's got him."

"How can you be sure?" Grissom asked, following Brass as the older man rushed from the room, keys in hand, "I know she's a likely suspect, but there's no way to be 100 percent sure until we speak to Sara."

Brass shook his head, "Oh, I'm sure. PD just got a package from the lovely Miss Miller…a chunk of flesh with a "catch me if you can" type letter attached. Gil, she's playing for keeps this time."

TBC