A/N: Okay, now I was planning on kicking Heather's ass in this chapter, but I decided eventually against it. Trust me, it will happen, and more than once (I can assure you all). And I somehow feel I went a lil' over the top with the description of the fighting, but I couldn't help it. I always thrive to put you guys right there. Oh, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't find out how hospitals handle chloroform inhaled patients, so that scene was a total shot in the dark. And to answer the question about what "dude" means. It's a horse's "Johnson".

But enough of me rambling. Read. Enjoy. Review.

Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. Them.

Chapter 14: It's Going Down

Brooke's POV:

My eyes bore into the back of the black Carrera that Heather was driving, a fiery intent burning in my mix-matched eyes. My fingers suffocated the steering wheel and my right foot became a lead weight on the gas pedal. I knew only one thing: get revenge for Sara. Yeah, Sara wouldn't like the idea of me getting in trouble with assault charges and what not, but I couldn't find a place in my body - let alone my heart - to truly and personally give a damn. Besides... My intent wasn't to kill her; simply to rough her up and teach her a lesson that her mama obviously didn't. Not like my safety was at stake with this woman. What's the worst she could do to me? Scratch me?

That's why I thought nothing of it when I followed her down a dirt road just off the side of the main road we were driving on. I sped up over one-hundred twenty mph to tailgate the Carrera, keeping the driving as straight as possible while speeding down the narrowing path in the woods as she led me deeper. If she thought that it would be that simple to shake me, her mistake was going to be horribly wrong – even more than words could express.

But my confusion didn't go unfelt as she led me into a dirt lot with spaciously open land, automatically surrounding me by cars similar to the one she was driving. I slammed on the breaks as I entered the middle of the ring of black Carreras and looked around me as the owners of each individual Carrera steadily got out of them – some of them being accompanied by two or three companions. In all, I surmised there to be about more people than I could count on my hands and feet.

She set me up, that sneaky little bitch.

And it wasn't until they all started to close in on me around the car and I saw the sadistic, yet minute, smirk on Heather's face as she stepped out of her own car. She was parked just outside the ring and had half of her body out of the driver's side as she opened it. It wasn't until I saw that smirk that I knew I was truly in deep shit. That went as far to explain why I hopped out of the car and tried to break through the ring of royally ripped guys that had nothing but pain in mind for me, some of them with leather whips in hand while the others simply cracked their knuckles. But the barrier was simply too thick to break through, as one of the guys shoved me to the ground with one hand. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like putting up a fight against people, but sometimes, as I learned, it's not all about what you feel like doing or what you wanna do. It's about what you gotta do to survive.

"Go easy on her. We don't need a murder scene." Heather's cool voice halted the mens' advance for an assault for a split second, and from on the dirt ground, I heard her get into her car and pull out of the lot.

I scurried to my feet and prepared myself for the world of pain I knew I was gonna feel by the end of this fight. "BRING IT!"

Sara's POV:

I laid in the hospital bed and stared absentmindedly up at the white ceiling, which I was now internally debating whether it was truly white or an off-white. Either it was my haziness or I had lost my sense of distinguishing colors. But that was all I could do to not let my mind wander to the thought of where Brooke was right now. Or worse yet, what she was doing now.

"She said she'd be here, Sara. Don't worry." Grissom's voice spoke calmly and quietly, almost reading my mind.

"I know that, but still. I'm concerned about why she left so suddenly. Knowing my sister, it could not have been good if she left just like that." I said nonchalantly, finally gazing at my bedside instead of the ceiling.

"Sister? I thought she was just a friend. I don't see where there's a relation." Grissom said as he sat back in his seat, lightly holding my hand.

"Foster sister. From one of the first homes I was in. Best one I had too." I said, trying to hide the sadness in my words.

"Ah, that's how you know her so well." He said, picking up my underlying tone that I didn't want to discus it any further. "I'm sure there was some sort of justification behind her leave, though."

I couldn't find myself saying the words to tell Grissom that Brooke didn't necessarily abide by the laws like a good civilian. How could you explain that to someone inside the law enforcement? I had difficulty thinking about it just by myself, so how would it appear to someone that didn't know Brooke at all? Not good is the only reply I could come up with by myself.

"Do you believe they'll let me out tonight?" I was quick to change subjects and to fill the silence before my thoughts came back.

"Possible. The doctor has to look over you first though. You know that." Grissom said with a small hint of exhaustion in his voice as he stifled a yawn.

"You sure you don't want to go home? You look tired." I asked almost sympathetically to him, knowing I was what had kept him at this hospital for the past several hours.

"Being around a large group of people has always made me tired. Typical effects of being anti-social." Grissom gave a modest shrug as he shook another yawn off. "And I'm not going home without you."

Not able to conjure up any sort of legible reply, I opted to smile in a sly sense of gratitude. Well, even if Brooke did something bad tonight, at least she did something correct. I was where I'd wanted to be for the longest time coming. Hopefully, this meant no more sleepless nights, no more cold and empty spaces next to me when I awoke, and most importantly, no more dreading when I come home after work because of the realization that I had nothing to go home too. Now, hopefully, this changed all that, and soon, that would change all of the things in my life right now that I hated most. Now all that remained to deal with was Brooke and the department permitting a supervisor dating his subordinate. And at the risk of sounding like I wished death upon the woman in thought, I knew that if Heather came into the picture again, I could count in on Brooke to deal with her.

That's just when the thought struck me. Lady Heather. The bathroom. Hadn't she gone into the bathroom at least a few minutes before I had? She couldn't have known I was going to the bathroom though. She most likely wouldn't have gone into the bathroom to begin with if it wasn't for Brooke's prank with the punch. Would she have truly just left the chloroform in the bathroom for anyone to inhale that walked in, in hopes that one of the people would be me? It was risky, but if she wanted it bad enough, she probably would've done it. After all, opportunity arose – I thought as I remembered a janitor's cart that was just sitting in the bathroom.

It had to be Heather. I concluded in my mind. If the chloroform had been in there when Heather went in, she would've had it worse than I did. She was inside the bathroom for longer than I was, and I walked out all messed up. And no one else went into the bathroom before me after Heather.

Brooke, already knowing that Heather had something against me, must've jumped to the conclusion that Heather was the culprit, and gone after her. Of course, it wasn't evidence based, but nonetheless, she was still as correct as I was in my own conclusion.

God Brooke, if you end up in the station under arrest for some type of assault charge... I began to think with an inward exasperation at the thought of Brooke getting herself into trouble. Sometimes I wonder if Brooke is just a menace and threat to society.

It was at least another hour or two more before my doctor entered the room to do her inspections. She approached with a radiating warmth in her smile that I seemed to be able to reciprocate despite the situation and my troubled thoughts of my problematic sister.

"Fancy seeing you here, Ms. Sidle. And with a companion this time..." Dr. Howard gave a short laugh. "all the better. Sorry it took me some time to get here, but tonight seems to be the night of the fights and trauma victims."

Just the mere mention of a fight had me jumping to conclusions, but I forced them out. "Understandable. I just need to know one thing: Can I get out tonight?"

"If all is well with you according to my inspection, Ms. Sidle, then yes. You can go. But let me do my job first." Dr. Howard shot me another toothy grin as she looked up from her clipboard. "But why don't you explain to me what happened?"

"I believe I inhaled chloroform. Obviously not a lot, because I was still walking around for about fifteen minutes or more conscious. But I kept getting bad dizzy spells." There truly wasn't much to tell. "Finally, it just got so bad that I passed out."

"For how long?" The doctor asked after scribbling down her notes in a hastened fashion.

"I'm not too sure." I said with uncertainty.

"Two minutes." Grissom chimed in from next to me. "About that amount."

"All right. Are you experiencing pain right now? Any of the typical effects from inhaling chloroform?" Dr. Howard had a general and sincere worry in her voice as she asked the question.

"No. I feel fine now. I think the dizziness was all I got out of it." I double-checked my words to make sure they were true and not just to put the woman at ease. I didn't want to leave the hospital only to be secretively being poisoned from chloroform still.

"Are you positive?"

"Absolutely."

"I have no reason to doubt your credibility then. I feel safe enough releasing you, but if you should experience pain, get back here immediately. If it was chloroform, it's not to be taken lightly." Dr. Howard gave me warning, one that I already knew.

"I know." I said simply, removing myself from the bed to stand up.

"In that case, have a nice morning Ms. Sidle, and your friend as well." Dr. Howard bid us farewell as she exited the room.

I heard the footfalls of Grissom's come from the side of the bed over to my side as he entwined his fingers with mine. "Not anymore, I'm not." He said, referring to the friend comment.

And it was like that, we walked out of the room and out into the hall, going home at 3:00 in the morning. Not just a house, but a home now.

Thank you Brooke. I said silently in my head as I stared across to the driver's seat at Grissom as he gazed back comfortably at me. Thank you.

Brooke's POV:

I stifled a yelp as the crack of a whip and the feeling of leather snapping across my face was all heard and felt for what felt like the umpteenth time during this long and drawn out battle it seemed like I was destined to lose. An hour's worth, and still running. It was only because I refused to give up and pretend to be knocked unconscious, so that meant that I was just gonna have to knocked unconscious for real, unless I got help in to aid me.

But who's gonna come rescue my ass at this late? It must be at least past midnight! I thought urgently as I jumped back from another whip crack.

By jumping back, I immediately jumped into the bear-like arms of another one of my attackers. The arms seemed to wrap around my fit body like a Boa Constrictor and suffocate me just as equally. That's when the thrashing commenced. I tore away violently over and over from the man, until the thought hit me to bite him. He released me as he gave out a low howl of pain, the taste of his blood in my mouth from where I broke the skin.

I've at least gotta get to the car so I can run their asses over. But then I'd be dead shit for sure. I thought anxiously as I ran further backward until I hit one of the Carreras with my back.

Now the question remained of who the Hell I was going to call. Not Sara. She was possibly still in the hospital waiting for me to swing by. Jen? Not her either. Best case scenario, she was at home sleeping and watching the kids. Worst case scenario, she was getting as bad a beat down by Eric. The cops? I've been around too many of them this night alone. I don't want to be around even the ones that would actually help me for a change. So who's left?

Taj.

If I couldn't fight them all, if I couldn't out run them, my best bet to someone that could at least help me fight them would be Taj. Maybe even some of his friends. But this was a late hour... But yet, he owed me. After that time back then...

I had no time to think about it when I noticed the guys closing in on me. I took off at a dash around the ring of Carreras, taking out my cellphone and speed dialing Taj's number. I continued to run as the phone rang in my ear. I was forced to jump the unconscious bodies of the few that I managed to knocked out as if they were hurdles. I was in a tough predicament, but that didn't mean I was completely helpless.

"Who dis? What you want?" Taj's voice asked in a whiny tone over the phone.

"Quit whining, Taj. It's not very appealing coming from you." I scolded him as I hopped over another unconscious body and just out of the reach of one of the faster people in the mob.

"Brooke? Is that you?" Taj asked, now able to recognize my voice, and by the tone of his voice, urgency.

"The one and only. Listen, I need some help right now." I cut through the middle of the circle that I was running around.

"Did you get arrested?" Taj asked with an exasperation, already rushing around and collecting clothes to put on from the sounds of it.

"Where are you going? Who's that?" A quieter and feminine voice was heard almost inaudibly in the background.

I nearly stopped my running and breathing for that matter, at the thought of Taj having a woman in his life. Was she another one of his one-night stands, or was she serious? Or better yet, just who the Hell was she?

Stop jumping to conclusions. And even if she does mean something to Taj, why the Hell do you care? He's not yours. My conscience snarled at me as I picked up the pace, heading straight for a small gap between two of the Carreras.

"No... I'm not. Look for a clear dirt path just about a couple miles east of the Lake Mead Party House. I'm down here, surrounded by guys that wanna kill me or at least knock me out. I need back up Taj, now." I said, pushing past the thought of Taj with a woman.

"Okay, okay. I'll be there quicker than quick, baby. Keep tight, and don't even try to fight them. I'm on my way." Did he just call me baby?

Before I got a chance to ponder it, I shut the cellphone and pushed it back into my pocket. It was amazing that it hadn't fallen out yet. Jumping up on top of the Carrera to my right, I scurried up and over it so that I was finally out of the Ring of Death, I should've been calling it. Behind me, the cars creaked and groaned as the hoard of thugs jumped over them to reach me, just as I grabbed the closest tree to me and launched for it. Not having time to tighten my grip, I shot up the tree to the top, disregarding the fact that the tree was flimsily swaying in the wind as it was. I clutched to the top of the tree for dear life, being twenty some odd feet off the ground and a crowd of people below me that would take advantage of the situation if I were to fall. And if I thought the tree's stability was at its worst to begin with, when one of the larger member of the group began to shake the tree with his bare hands, I was sure it was only a matter of time before the tree snapped like a twig.

One... Two... Three!

I instantaneously let go of the tree and free fell into the crowd, praying that they were too dumbfounded to move away. The feeling that I endured was almost sickening, as if my stomach had nestled into a new home in my throat. I had no control over how I fell through the air at the velocity I was falling at, so I opted to curl into the tightest ball I could and try to roll onto my side. Never my back or front, just incase the morons below had some form of intelligence and moved out of the way. If I hit my back, that'd mess with my spine, and if I landed on my front... Well, I'd rather not think of that.

Thankfully, albeit it was more painful than I imagined it to be, I crash landed into the crowd of people below me, taking several down to the dusty ground with me. Though I could only assume that it would've left me in more pain if I hadn't landed on the people, I couldn't deny that various parts of my body ached from colliding with the people's bony parts. Deciding that if I didn't push that minor pain aside I'd be in more pain that I deemed healthy, I stood up and launched my balled up fist to the closest target I could see, the man that was shaking the tree. I didn't stop hitting until every single on of them had a black eye or some type of indentation of my rings in they're faces. That's not to say that I didn't get a taste of their own fists or whips, whatever the guy's preference was. It was all about to end, however when I heard the unsheathing of a dagger from someone behind.

Figures the one time that I need my gun that I don't have it. I thought angrily as I quickly concocted an idea of what to do.

Prior to that thought, I propelled myself backwards into the attacking man's chest, resting his extended arm over my shoulder, the joint in his elbow propped up directly on my shoulder while the dagger was grasped inside his hand facing to the inside of me. Seizing his wrist with my hand, I drove my shoulder straight up into the man's elbow, bending it in ways that it should've never been able to go into under normal circumstances. The screaming and writhing in pain from the man was music to my ears as I heard him drop to the ground with a large thud.

Having dropped the dagger on contact, it injected its lethal blade into the arm of one of the man I happened to land on. Looking down briefly to see him clutching his injured arm in agony and his face scrunched up from the pain, I plucked the dagger out of his body and continued to move on. There was nothing else I could do. I wasn't about to call an ambulance for someone that tried to kill me. Maybe after I got out of there, I'd call 911 anonymously to let them know, but 911 was the furthest thing from my mind right now.

Brandishing a bloody dagger now, I looked dangerously toward each of my remaining opponents, seeing the realization in their eyes that the tides of this battle were about to change.

What am I? A shit magnet? I thought with an inward sigh. All those classes I took with Sara on karate and self-defense better pay off heavily now.

But before I could properly center myself to "open all my senses", as our sensai once advised, the assault began with a man off to my left coming at me with a low decked kidney-punch. A swift rotate was made so I faced "Left Hand Man" with my back to the person that was previously to my right, clenching "Left Hand Man's" hand as tight as I could to make his knees give from the pain. Hearing the shuffling of man I had my back to, I turned my head ever-so-slightly to see that he also had a knife in hand, albeit it was a pocket knife. Like I had with the "Dagger Man", I threw the side of my body "Pocketknife Man" was trying to attack and repeated the elbow breaking move, hearing the nauseating cracks and crunches next to my ear. The screams came again, both from the man in front and behind me, as I tossed my bent elbow directly into "Pocketknife Man's" face, finally allowing him to fall back. Kicking him off from leaning on me, I turned to the man kneeled down before me as I dragged him up to his feet and twirled him around once in a circle before launching him into the tree behind me.

Twenty-one down, five to go. I thought, counting everyone from the once enormous group that was now unconscious or no longer a threat to me.

Pivoting back to the remaining five, I saw that they were actually avoiding me for the first time since this fight began. As I stepped out of the small spot of bodies, I didn't seem to take notice of one of the more sly contenders creeping up behind me and give my hand that possessed the dagger a swift kick to make me drop it. Facing him now, I aimed low as I returned the favor of kicking him back – or rather more like a shove with my foot - but it was far from reaching his hand, if you catch my drift.

Now becoming enveloped within a new circle of only four people, I backed up as I dodged a high kick that would've made contact with my face had I not drawn back. Sensing the person behind me was about to grab me and act as a wall to hold me there while they beat me mercilessly, I turned around hastily to link arms with him as if we were doe-se-doeing at a White Man's Country Club, just in time to catch "High-Kick Man" pivoting around for another high kick, but leaving his standing leg wide open for an attack. Coming about from around the man, I gave a swift air stomp, as I would put it, to the inward side of his knee, denting it to go outwards instead of its normal bending route. To anyone's imagination, he wasn't kicking that high anymore. On the contrary, he wouldn't be kicking anything but his ass in a metaphorical sense in regret for messing with me after he got out of this.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man actually using his head and arming himself with a thick branch discarded on the ground from the tree I had climbed up just earlier. Holding it as if it were a baseball bat, he was next to approach as he took a swing with my head like it was originally made out to be the ball. Feeling the slight tug away from me from the other man that I still had linked arms with, I dipped my body back and left my "doe-se-doeing partner" to take the hit, quite literally. For the time being, I kicked "Branch Man" back to delay any other movements he had for a much needed moment or two. "Doe-se-doeing Partner" would be feeling that one when he woke up, I thought as he fell to the ground.

"Branch Man" came back again, no longer modeling the branch he'd earned his name for, but yet another knife that had been harbored in the belt loop of his jeans. Turning just in time to see him try and drive the jagged blade into my skull, I ceased his wrists as I dexterously confiscated it and used the butt of the knife to smash into his forehead, all in one fluid movement. After all, I wasn't looking to kill them. Death would be too much of a pleasure in their surely miserable lives. I wanted to make them feel worse when they woke up in the morning, like I was going to with all the welts and bruises from their fists and whips.

The sound of a roaring engine and the emitting of headlights from the entrance of the lot distracted me from the remaining opponent that was now sneaking up behind me. If I thought "Branch Man" was the sensible one out of this group, I was mistakened. The most prepared man was the final component, who withdrew a .23 pistol from his waistline in his pants and put it to my temple while I was only halfway turned to him. The cold steel of the barrel felt frighteningly good to my sweating and heated face, but I knew I wouldn't be enjoying it for long if he pulled the trigger.

Goodbye Karate, hello break dancing.

Falling backwards, I temporarily forgot on purpose that there was a gun involved as I did a back flip and brought my feet back with me, kicking him in the face as I returned to a standing position. Stunning him transiently, I performed a quick follow-up with the same thought in mind, with a slight twist that I liked to call, "30 Yards". Flipping backwards into yet another back flip, I seized the man by his stalky neck with my ankles, deliberately constricting his airway to get a firm grip on him as I lifted him off the ground and flung him carelessly across the lot as I rolled back into a sitting position just in time to see him collide with the ground just a few feet away from where the car had skidded to a stop only seconds beforehand. That wasn't called "30 Yards" for nothing.

Out from the driver's side of the Porsche came Taj, signaling for me to get in the car. Looking around at the result of this fight, I smirked with that same cocky confidence I had as I dashed for the car.

"So much for not fighting them. I hope you didn't kill any of them." Taj said as I approached the passenger seat and opened the door.

Unfortunately, the seat was already occupied by a familiar albino face, none other than Jason Shea, the second youngest out of the three foster kids that I grew up with in the Crooks' household. There was Sara, myself, Jason, and Monica, who was no longer alive, as fate would have it.

"Jay!" I screamed in excitement, forgetting about my pain for the moment.

Being mute, he simply let out a squeak in surprise to the sudden reaction from me encasing his rather petite body into a large bear hug. I hadn't seen him for an eternity and it felt good to feel like I was gaining my old family back again. All that remained was Monica, but all us Crooks' kids knew that wasn't going to happen.

Let's get the reunion part over with when we're away from here. He signed to me as he lifted his seat up for me to get into the back.

"Agreed." I said as I took one last look at the scene, seeing several of the guys still squirming around in pain. Looking back at the raised up seat, I shook my head. "I've got another car that I need to drive back to someone's house."

Taj, already seated back in the driver's seat, was stared at by Jay, before my brother got up and out of the car. With any further explanation, he pushed me back down into the seat he'd once occupied. I pushed against him, but I soon found that I was in more pain that I'd originally calculated. Jay carefully buckled me in, adjusting the belt so that it didn't touch any of my wounds that were running across my chest. My back burned with an intense pain already from the seat touching the welts from the whips, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat as my adrenaline rush wore off. Leaning down, he put a feather light kiss to my forehead and then pulled back to close the door for me. Staring out and up at him from the already rolled down window, the confusion was clear in my eyes. He smirked and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

You need to be looked after right now... Give me the address, and I'll go return the Lambo to its rightful owner. He signed to me, offering his explanation.

"For one, I'm not a little girl that needs a babysitter to look after her." I told him with my serious and authoritative tone. "And for two, the car goes to the Tudor Apartments, apartment 8D." I said with a sigh as Jay gave me one of his "Please let me help you" sympathy gazes. "Thanks little bro. Mucho amor." I said as I weakly reached out for his hand to give it a quick squeeze in my own special thanks.

No hay de que. To my pleasant surprise, he'd been brushing up on his Spanish sign language.

TBC...

A/N2: Yeah, all right. So, obviously, this chapter was dedicated to Brooke, and almost predictably, half (or maybe a small bit over a half) of the next chapter will be as well. Hope nobody minds. Well, hey, what am I doing? I should be off writing it! I'll update soon (if I get reviews of course.) Oh yeah, and just to inform, I will be definitely adding Grissom's POV at some point. Not truly sure when, but I will, and I will be trying not to make the GSR too much of a sidestory. As my very good friend – Chloe – pointed out, GSR is just too good to be too much of a sidestory.

Peace out, one love,
MC New York