Title: In Hell with Love

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. I'm just a fan

Author's note: So sorry for the delay. Thank you all for your patience. For those who reviewed (wraiths-angel, ilovekc, Gear's Girl, Meg-Breanne, jdcocoagirl, necira, JessicaDelko, apcJodi and xoSNICKERLOVExo), your encouragements had saved me from a bad case of writers block. Thank you. Oh…I almost forgot, JessicaDelko, you were my 100th review.

Chapter 15

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Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

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"So… you're Michele." Warrick said as he dusted an area in the study for prints. The body said nothing, empty as a shell and as quiet as air around them. He sighed heavily, watching as the fingerprinting powder hovered around the clean surface. There were no usable prints. The evidence had been wiped clean. There was nothing to point him to a suspect. He could only imagined the look of the faceless victim, watching him in disappointment as her attacker roams free in this world.

He placed his tools back into his kit, closing it shut. Defeat had never felt so bitter, his purpose in this case was disturbing and his talents were questionable. He began to wonder what he was doing here. He was useless, unhelpful; there was no point in being here. A drop of melted time flowed slowly, as he stood where he was. "Did Sara mention anything about us when she was with you?" He asked the only other body in the room. Silence answered as he picked his kit off the floor. He continued anyway. "Do you think she'll remember us?" Warrick could only imagined a reply in his head as he looked towards the body, the body of Sara's friend. He had so many questions for her— questions about the case, about the killer… about Sara. Warrick wasn't the kind of CSI who talks to the dead, but for that moment, he felt complied to. He owed it to 'Michele'.

"Thank you… thank you for taking care of Sara when we couldn't."

He knew that she would like to tell him everything. She would want him to know everything she and Sara had gone through. But she can't.

Not now, not ever.

With his back against the wall, Nick looked towards the light coming through the door. Even in this dark, grim room, he noticed that its rays were growing stronger and brighter, a symbol of good things to come; the vault doors would be opening soon and in no time, they would be rescued. Sara would get the help she needs, and everything would get back to normal.

Or would it? What exactly is normalcy? What would normal mean to Sara?

It was probably best if he didn't think about it. Instead, he spoke to her for several minutes about nothing. Anyone who never had the need for someone would find it strange and annoying, but it wasn't the case at all. There they stood, he, pouring his heart out to her and she, listening and taking in his words. It was something beyond any other feeling that was ever felt and Sara knew that he would keep her alive as long as he could. Her body had been so weak for days; it was a miracle that her life had extended this long. All she needed to do was to hold on. Nick spoke until the drugs took effect and Sara closed her eyes. He took pride in the fact that during this time, he had tried his hardest to be optimistic and encouraging. But it was only when her eyes were shut that he truly broken down and wept.

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Wiping his tears that were coating his cheeks with the back of his hand, Nick carefully shifted his position a little to look at the time, begging the minute hand in his watch to speed up. Anytime now, in a few moments, he mentally told himself; he was sure of it. But even with this thought in his head, time dragged slowly like a heavy sack of doubt. He gently looked towards Sara to check on her. Her eyes were still closed and her breathing heavily laboured. Nick couldn't really tell if she was asleep or just resting her eyes. It probably wasn't the best idea to let a dying person sleep, but whenever he mastered the courage to wake Sara up from her much-needed rest, a spasm of pain would jerk her body against his. Not a violent twitch, more of like a nudge against Nick's torso; her minor sign of life that came with the heavy rhythm of her breathing.

Nick smiled. At least he knew that she was still alive and hanging in there.

"The EMTs are here. There's a chopper waiting outside to get Sara to Desert Palm's hospital." Brass said as soon as Warrick walked out of the room. "How are you holding up?"

Warrick gave him the thumb's up. The butterflies in his stomach had morphed into fully grown winged creatures, so much so that if he had answered Brass's question, he was certain that they would have flown out of his mouth. "Got the tools ready?" He managed to ask, swallowing hard.

Brass held up a metal toolbox like a construction worker eager to have his lunch. "Ready when you are."

As if those were the special secret words needed to move on, the two men turned towards the groan of stress metal, as locks on the vault doors broke free …

Nick stood in silence, enjoying the present moment, letting care and concern fill up the empty space left behind by pain and torture. The friend he thought he had lost a long time ago was in his arms, helping him, with the best of her abilities, to keep a promise that he couldn't fulfil in the past.

He tenderly rubbed his cheek against Sara's head, comforting her with simple actions that only a friend could provide. He was getting nervous, his guts in knots; tied up in a good way. It had been a year and a half since Sara went missing, and they had finally found her. He held her close, imagining the teams' reactions, the joy they would feel when they see her. He knew it would take time for Sara to recover, but at least she had them; she'll have the team to pull her out of hell. That was enough to put a small smirk on his face. We've missed you. He thought aloud. Everything's going to be okay, I swear. It was just a matter of time before her life would be back to normal. Excitement bubbled inside of him and he let out a gasp of happiness. The vault doors were opening! The wind entering through the doors seemed to catch his mood and the stars outside sparkled as though they were all for Sara and no one else. This was her time, the miracle they have all been waiting for. "Sara… The doors…" he said eagerly, as he tiled his head to see her response. His smile dissolved as fast as it formed as he found out that something was wrong. For that moment, he felt nothing moving against his heart.

Sara had stop breathing.

Brass grabbed the 3-point handle of the vault doors and gave it a pull. The heavy doors opened with a sigh, moving a slowly as an old man walking across the street. Warrick impatiently ran through once the gap was large enough, almost falling down the poorly made stairs that Nick told him about. He managed to recover within the same second, skipping two steps at a time with Brass and two paramedics close behind.

"Nick! Where are you?" Warrick yelled as he ran into the middle of the room, his eyes absorbing every detail of the wine cellar. He watched Brass as he ran ahead towards an open door, the door that led to the room where Nick fell through the ventilation shaft moments ago. Broken crates laid everywhere, but there was no sign of them. He felt the pounding of his heart in his chest and in his ears. They were deafening, loud enough that he was sure Brass could hear it too.

"W-Warrick— over h-here"

Did you hear that? Both men turned towards each other before running towards the sound of Nick's voice. Warrick entered the hidden room first. His heart stopped, the sight of the room overwhelming him, destroying his ability to think. Sara! Oh my Gosh. He stood, in silence, not knowing what to do.

"What are you waiting for? Help me get her out of here." Nick shouted, bringing him back to reality. Warrick looked at the toolbox he had in his hands, not knowing how it got there in the first place.He thought Brass had it. But at least it's something, he thought as he ran towards Nick and Sara, with an aim to get her out of those restraints.

A paramedic came towards them with a BVM resuscitator. Nick lolled Sara's head back, amazed at his mind's automatic response in this situation. He could feel the device forcing air into her lungs as the paramedic compressed the bag in a steady rhythm. This can't be real. God, in his heaven, wouldn't be so cruel to take Sara away just as He returned her to them. His world seemed heavy, and for a moment, he didn't understand what was going on. Warrick was saying something, Brass was asking something, and the paramedics were uttering some medical jargon to each other. None of it made any sense. The thoughts that he had earlier broke in two, sitting on his shoulders like the angel and the devil. She will not die, she will die. It's not your fault, it's your fault.

She would find out that you lied; everything's not okay.

He tilted his head back, hitting his head against the wall. Probably a little too hard, but he didn't care. Maybe he would be able to feel half of the pain that she was in; maybe then he could take some away. Nick couldn't understand how could anyone hurt another person like this every moment of everyday. It hurt him to see anything in pain, let alone someone that he cares so much for. It just doesn't make any sense. He just didn't know. He just didn't know what to do.

But... he did know one thing. As Warrick struggled to free Sara; as the paramedic pumped oxygen into her lungs, he would hold on to her, hanging on to her as long as possible. If she could absorbed him, he would release himself into her soul, knowing that this might be the last time he would see her. He had to believe she'd make it out alive. She was part of the CSI team—all part of a family bound by love and a minuscule thing called faith. They all had faith in each other, just none in themselves.

With the tools he had in his blistered hands, Warrick had managed to release the restraints. Nick lowered her onto the stretcher, holding her hand as they walked out of the room and out of the house. The moon was still new as the witching hour drew near. He turned to look at the glowing sphere, knowing that it was watching and felt proud at what they had accomplished. The air in the desert was frightening cold and vacant. But even in the chill of night, the stars managed to spread their warmth over them. The same stars that had witness her abduction.

"Nick... go with her. Don't worry about the scene. I'll cover for you." Warrick shouted over the helicopter's engine.

Brass shielded his eyes from the swirling wind. "That extra seat is for you. We'll meet up at Desert Palm, okay? Take care of her."

The 2 men encouraged Nick to get onto the chopper with Sara, sorry that they could not go along but happy knowing that he was with her and that she was with him. It was better knowing that than worrying. An incredible gust of wind flew by as the medical helicopter prepared to fly, whipping Nick in the face and barrelling into his heart. He thanked them and took his place beside Sara, her hand still safely inside of his own. Over the whirling of the blades, he promised to take good care of her, putting up his bravest front in front of them.

But as the helicopter ascended, he immediately burst into tears. He hadn't meant to, but it was no use. Her petite figure was broken, bruised and bloodied from everything she had gone through. The life-saving techniques that were meant to sustain her were hurting her already weak body. "You'll get through this," he chanted softly to Sara. "Everything's going to be okay." Glancing outside for a moment, he noticed the city's lights were shining brightly. The city of sin was looking especially angelic right now.

"Everything's going to be okay… I swear."

He poured his soul into each word. Nick spoke out to her, hoping to God that, in some way, she could hear him. This was for her, all for her. Every breath that left his body was for her. That was what made it all right; everything was real. Even hope seemed possible.

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Finally, the helicopter landed and they were at the hospital. He had held on to her tightly until it was time, the time to let go. A nurse shoved Nick roughly as Sara's gurney wheeled down the bright hallway and he lost grip of her hand. He tried pushing his way through but they wouldn't let him go any further. He stood at the other side of the glass window, unable to move, knowing that she was in pain and there was nothing he could do. Holding back tears, he tried to be calm, yelling inside for death to leave Sara alone.

The nurses were running around, grabbing bags of clear liquid and blood. Someone was poking a hole into Sara's veins, while another was attaching things to her skin. Two masked men were taking turns, forcing air into her lungs and pushing down on her broken ribs. Doctors were preparing to shock her with electricity. Others were doing things to her that he could not understand. As if Sara hadn't endured enough suffering, she had to go through this.

Don't hurt her. Please stop hurting her…

He watched and cried violently to himself. People around him hurriedly by, heading to destinations unknown. Many ignored him; others gave him awkward glares, as if his reactions were forbidden in the area where he stood. It was useless to think of his appearance now. Voices, many voices, hung around him. And all he wanted to hear was hers.

Now as they lay her down to sleep,

He prays the Lord her soul to keep.

If she should die before she wakes…

He watched until the very end of their treatment, sobbing loudest when they took her away from view. Nick felt someone prodding him in the shoulder. It was one of the doctors that were in the room with Sara. He hated this moment; the moment where they would give him the news of life and death. He would have to understand that they had done all they could. He listened through muffled ears as the medicine man gave him Sara's prognosis. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and plummeted into his hands as the doctor patted his shoulder and walked away.

If the walls had ears, they have heard it all before. Within the hospital, some left, others died, many lived and a great majority got steadily worse. All she needed to do was to hold on. Nick fell onto his knees and sobbed for the longest time because today, the angel of death had passed over Desert Palms…

And Sara had been spared.

TBC

She lives! Sorry for the delay. I would have posted this a few days ago, but I keep getting the fanfiction error thingy. I had to export another story in order to update. I'm really annoyed.

P.S At first I thought of killing Sara off, but i thought it was a bad idea. I'm still thinking about it though. Let's see how it goes.