A/N: Oh, wow, thanks for all the great reviews and a BIG sorry for the late update. First I was having trouble with the chapter, then my beta was otherwise occupied, but now that we both found our muse and the time, here it is. Hope you'll like it and thanks to TangledPencils for her help - BG -

Fire and Water

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 21

"Look, I know it's already aftervisiting hours, but this is ridiculous," Nick said indignantly when the nurse at the desk stopped him mid-stride on his way to Travis' room. He was trying to tell her it wouldbe only for a minute, he even pulled out his ID stating he worked as a CSI, but to no avail. The nurse kept insisting that he wasn't allowed to enter the room and should leave. She offered no explanation, until she finally grew just as exasperated as Nick.

"You don't understand, Mister! You can't see Mr. Travis Andrews because he is no longer our patient. Now if you would be so kind and leave before I call secur…"

"W-wait!" Nick stammered and stopped the nurse in the middle of the word. "Travis left? When? Why the hell didn't you tell me before threatening to call security?"

For once the nurse was lost for words and stayed silent, blinking at Nick a little guiltily, realizing that maybe she could be in trouble.

"I am sorry sir, but Travis asked me for help."

"What kind of help? And you know Travis?" Nick was becoming more and more confused, which didn't serve well with his thinning patience.

"Um...I knew his wife, Jamie. I just heard what happened to her and..." The nurse suddenly looked on the verge of tears and Nick almost winced when she sniffled. But then her professionalism won over and she looked up, straight into Nick's eyes. "I am sorry, but Mr. Andrews wanted to be left alone and thought that the police would let him be a little while longer if they thought he was still in the hospital. I was supposed to fend off anyone wanting to talk to him until morning, when my shift ends."

Nick cursed then shot an apologetic smile to the nurse passing by and the patient she was pushing in a wheelchair.

"I thought the doctor wanted to keep him for few days," Nick muttered and shook his head in frustration. "That stubborn son of a…" he stopped himself then looked back at the nervous nurse.

"Let me guess. He left against the doctor's advice, right?"

"Yes, he signed the AMA papers. He wasn't too bad though...a few broken ribs and some bruises. The worst was the concussion, but the neuro checks came back good. Look, I know the doctor wasn't happy to let him go, but Travis was going straight home. I even called him a cab."

Nick perked up a little hearing this. Maybe Travis really just wanted to sleep in his own bed and he was making a fuss over nothing.

"Is he in trouble?"

"I hope not," Nick said, then with a curt nod to the nurse he turned and made a hasty retreat. He wouldn't be able to go home and rest without making sure that Travis was indeed in his house.

-xXxXx-

Someone jabbed him in the ribs and Jonah went to slap the offending hand away when he realized he couldn't move. The jabbing continued with a sound that was something akin to snickering and Jonah felt a feeling of panic rising when all of his movement was halted by something enshrouding his whole body. That was it. The Master had decided to get rid of him while he slept and had wrapped him up in a carpet. The jabbing he felt was probably the Master trying to find out if he was awake.

'Maybe I should pretend to still be asleep,' Jonah thought, but then something slid off his face and the light hit his eyelids. With a grunt, his eyes popped open, and for a second he was blinded.

Jonah blinked then started wildly squirming, trying to escape his confinement, when an unexpected sound reached his ears and made him freeze. It was laughter. Someone was getting a lot of enjoyment out of his misery, and even though thevoice belonged to the Master, Jonah didn't detect any threat coming from it. Dragging in a deep breath, he finally managed to take a look around and couldn't believe his stupid luck. Unable to hide a groan, Jonah bumped his head against the floor, then shot a pleading look at the Master, who was still smirking but thankfully not openly laughing any more.

"I see you're finally awake," the man said, standing still, arms crossed on the chest like an amused parent. Well, Jonah wasn't amused. During his sleep he'd managed to somehow get tangled inside his ownsleeping bag. Add in that the jacket he'd used as a pillow when he lay down was now partially covering his head, he wondered just how fitful his sleep had really been.

"Help me out," he grumbled and shook his head, the jacket finally sliding down to the floor.

"The magic word?" the Master asked and Jonah blinked in confusion until it hit him. Then with a groan he added a disgruntled "Please" and onlythen did the Master lean down and help him up. While Jonah was trying to brush the dust from the floor out of his hair, the smirk on the Master's face changed into a frown and the younger man instantly felt the coldness in his stomach. Fun time was obviously over. As if to confirm his fears, the Master pulled the ritual knife from the special case that was hidden in the table and fastened the scabbard at his belt.

Jonah swallowed and looked away, hoping that the Master didn't notice the fear in his eyes. He wasn't prepared to do this, not anymore. Not for the false ideals the man put inside his head, not for the drugs. Once again the urge to run threatened to overcome his senses. Hardly thinking, he made his way to the door and turned the knob, when the voice stopped him.

"Where are you going?" the amusement from a few minutes earlier was totally gone, the only thing left was the steely determination to reach the goal.

"I have to go...to the john," Jonah replied, praying that his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt.

"Don't take too long, we have a job to do." The younger man nodded and was already half out the door when the Master stopped him once again.

"Yeah?" he turned, one hand reaching behind his back where he had his own knife hidden, only to shoot out and catch the small package the Master tossed him.

"Take it before we leave. I need you concentrated."

Jonah looked down at the small bag of Crystal Meth in his hand and swallowed. He had to leave, that was sure. He couldn't take much more of this nerve wracking situation. He just wasn't sure that now was the right time to do it.

-xXxXx-

"It has to be here," Travis mumbled as he awkwardly searched through another drawer. He knew that the cops had already looked through his and Jamie's things, but he was sure that after finding her diary they wouldn't have paid much attention to the small phone book where Jamie kept all of her contacts names along with their numbers. Finally, after the third drawer fell to the floor with a loud thud, he found what he was looking for. The tiny black book held all he needed. Picking it up from the floor was the hardest feat, when his whole body cried out in protest and Travis' face scrunched up in pain, his ribs and head being the biggest source. He took a few harsh breaths, grabbed the book and straightened up, gasping from the effort and brushing the sweat off his face. After a minute of just leaning against the wall and pulling together all the energy he could muster, silently berating himself for the stupid idea of leaving the hospital in the first place, he opened the tiny book and flippedthrough it, his eyes searching for the right name.

He found it under the J's – his wife had put all of her acquaintancesfrom the jury there and Travis' finger jabbed into the name he remembered from his dream.

Basking in this small victory, he brought out the big phone book they had under the phone and started searching until he found a listing with the right name. Under it was an address, exactly what he was looking for. Scribbling it down on the first scrap of paper he found, he rushed past the mess on the floor, only pausing to retrieve a hunting knife from his room. Then he left the house without a backward look, not even locking the door. He limped to the cab that was still waiting patiently, put another bill into the driver's hand and gave him directions. The cab drove out and down the street and it was just turning the corner, when another car pulled up to Travis' yard.

Nick wasn't a happy guy when he got out of the car. He walked stiffly to the front door, already preparing to tell Travis what a stupid idiot he was for leaving the hospital like that. He knocked on the door and instantly, all thoughts left his mind. The door slightly opened at his touch and Nick swallowed. Could it be that the Master somehow realised that Travis wasn't killed in the crash? Maybe they had it all wrong, and Travis was the target all along...Nick's mind was rushing through all the possibilities of finding his friend dead, or a killer roaming the house. He instinctively pulled out his gun, suddenly grateful that he had picked up his spare gun while his usual weapon was still in the evidence locker.

His head brushed lightly against the doorframe, as he edged the door gently open. With a racing heart and wide open eyes, Nick entered the house, gun at the ready. He instantly noticed the mess on the floor and knew it wasn't Warrick or Grissom who'd left it likethat. That left only the killer or Travis. Nick slowly walked through the hall and to the kitchen. He was half prepared to see the body of his friend with a knife in his back, laying face down in a pool of his own blood, but the floor was clean as was the kitchen. No signs of a fight. With a frown, Nick checked out all the rooms on the ground floor and found no other sign of trespassing than the mess in the hall and Jamie's study. He was starting to suspect that the mess was actually created by Travis and that he was maybe losing valuable time, but he still had to check out the first floor, losing more time. When he finally decided that the house was indeed clear, he quickly returned to the mess and started looking around. What could Travis have been looking for?

There were some note books, paper clips and the usual stuff you got in your mail. Then his eyes fastened on the big phone book, opened in the middle of it all and with a crawling feeling in his stomach he looked at the page it was opened on. His eyes slid down the columns and stopped on one name. He knew that name! He'd seen it only a few hours ago in the conference room, on the files Nick himself brought there. Closing his eyes for a moment, he debated in his own mind.

'Not even Travis could be that stupid,' he thought, then with a curse opened his eyes and turned on his heels, a silent reply to his own question.

Nick rushed to the car, scrambling inside and starting the engine, hoping that he wouldn't be slowed down by the traffic. He was several blocks away before he remembered that it would be wise to warn Brass about the incoming trouble. He pulled out his cell, the one he'd retrieved from evidence, not sure why Warrick took it there in the first place, and dialed the detective's number. He heard a familiar beep that warned him of a low battery and cursed, hoping it would last long enough.

"Brass," came the familiar voice and Nick let out a breath. The detective sounded more bored than angry, that meant that Travis hadn't appeared yet.

"Hey Jim, it's me, Nick. Listen, Travis hasleft the hospital and he's on his way to…" Nick heard the annoying beep once again, this time much longer and he unconsciously squeezed the cell harder. "to you," he finished, but already knew that it didn't reach the other end.

"Jim?" he still asked, then pulled the cell away from his ear and after a short glance at the dead display threw the device at the passenger seat. He could only hope that Jim figured out what he wanted to say and that if Travismade an appearance, the older cop won't start shooting first, then asking questions. Not entirely sure he wouldn't shoot Travis himself once he found him, Nick pushed down on the gas pedal and the car accelerated.

-xXxXx-

Jim Brass was bored. He felt he was too old for this kind of 'inactivity' that the surveillance required. He stood up and stretched out, then started his walk around the house, while Kyle Anders, who was the possible next target, was quietly working in his study on some taxes. His wife and two kids were already on their way to Kyle's mother who lived in California. He had taken it quite well when the police knocked on his door and informed him about the threat. He'd told his wife it would be best if they all left for a few days, when he found out that both Jamie and Howard were killed. But in the end, he stayed, because the detective assured him he'dbe safe. The cop in the house and several others in the surveillance van parked down the street helped Kyle Anders to believe it and relax enough to work.

Jim Brass was just sipping some cold water when his phone started ringing. He fumbled a moment to find it, putting the glass down as he reached into his pocket and took the call. He barked out his name and waited, hoping that it wasn't any bad news. He was surprised to hear Nick, and even more when he learned that Travis hadleft the hospital. Jim Brass didn't take a liking to the man in the first place and the longer he knew him, the more trouble Travis caused. His attention sharpened when Nick started saying where Travis was headed and he was startled by the sudden way Nick was cut off in the middle.

"Nick?" he called into the phone then looked at the display, as if trying to discern if it was his own phone that hadbetrayed him. When he realised his cell was okay, he dialed Nick's number, only to listen to the mechanical voicesay that the number he dialed was out of reach.

"Damn it," he cursed and shook his head, frustrated. Travis on the run was a bad thing, but the fact that Nick was on his trail without a way to call for back-up was bothering him more. He was about to call the station and put out an APB on one Travis Andrews when he saw a commotion on the front lawn, his radio crackled to life and then all hell broke lose.

TBC