A/N: As always thanks to my beta reader TangledPencils for her help and to all the nice people who reviewed. The alerts were down so I posted a little later, but hopefully you won't have to wait so much for the next chapter.

Fire and water

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 26

He needed to get his shirt off. It was soaked through with gasoline, he could smell it, even in the growing smoke. But he had to free his hands for that, and the CSI guy looked too shocked to make a move. So Kyle screamed, fear and frustration mixing in his voice, but it was enough to bring the CSI back to reality.

"Help me!" Kyle gave a desperate order and felt just a little relief when the man next to him started frantically cutting through his bonds, even though he lacked some grace in doing so and cut Kyle one more time. But Kyle didn't yelp and didn't protest at the awkward help, too scared that it would stop. Finally, his left arm was free and he was surprised when the knife was handed to him.

"You'll do it faster," the CSI said and Kyle simply nodded, wondering why the knife handle felt so slippery under his fingers, but he cut his other arm free and then leaned down cutting each tape holding his legs to the chair with one swift move. The next thing he knew, he was scrambling from the chair, away from the fire and ripping at his shirt, trying to pull it off. Nick watched him with some confusion, until Kyle turned to him as he threw away the shirt, spitting out one word.

"Gasoline."

Nick nodded and looked back toward the door. Any moment he expected to see two armed men charging in, but they weren't coming and right now, Nick didn't care if there was a killer in the building or not. They needed to get away from the fire, and the only way was through that door. He'd already looked at the window while Kyle was cutting himself free and couldn't stop the curse when seeing the bars on it. They were trapped and the fire was quickly moving from the spot it started. Flames licked angrily through the floor and toward the walls, eating at the wooden material like a hungry beast.

"We'llhave to go through," Nick said loudly, the sound of the crackling fire more oppressive by each second. Kyle threw him a startled glance, but after a moment nodded. Now that he'd taken his shirt off, he was bare chested and one look at the CSI told him he didn't have more than one layer of clothing either. Even this early in the summer, it was too hot to wear too many clothes, and although the nights brought some relief, it still wasn't cold enough for a jacket. He had no protection for his skin against the flames that were flaring up from the floor, and a quick glance around the room showed there were no spare clothes lying conveniently around.

"We have to go now, Kyle," Nick insisted forcefully, seeing the hesitation on the other man's face as he fumblingly holstered his gun. He too looked around them, eyes frantically searching for something, anything they could use for protection but all he saw was a dirty rag lying in the corner. Shaking his head in disbelief at what he wasdoing, Nick scooped the rag up nevertheless and forcing back the disgust, he ripped the rag in two and handed one piece to Kyle.

"Put this over your nose and mouth and try to hold your breath when going through." Kyle took the rag and did as ordered, but he didn't take a step toward the fire.

"Go along the right wall, the flames are lower there. Go! Now!" Nick shouted and when he saw that Kyle didn't move, seemed to be frozen in place, he did the only thing he could. Grabbing an arm, ignoring the scream of protest from his wounds, Nick half pulled, half pushed Kyle through the flames.

Kyle was shoved to the right, toward the flames that were consuming the wooden boards and licking at the wall. He was startled when the CSI pushed into him, but once he was that close to the flames, he couldn't stop. Kyle felt the heat on his skin, felt the material of his trousers stiffen and become hot as he staggered through the fire. The sweat evaporated from his skin and the hair on his chest began to curl. He tried hard not to breathe in the burning air and it was only when he hit the wall inthe hallway opposite the door that he allowed himself to take a breath, gasping when the cool air hit his lungs.

Nick stumbled out right behind Kyle, his left hand still clutching the man's bare arm, though he wasn't sure if it was to help Kyle or support his own weight. The pain in his side flared and Nick swayed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He crashed against the wall and gasped for air, his vision strangely darkening, even though he was now looking right at the blazing red fire.

Kyle's eyes were closed when he felt more than heard the CSI hit the wall right next to him. Kyle squinted, only to open his eyes wider when he saw the flames licking at the other man's left leg.

"Your leg!" Nick heard the warning and looked down just as he felt the sensation.

"Argh!" Nick yelped and jumped, his next instinct was to try and put out the fire with his own bare hands. Luckily, before he could do that and acquire more burns, Kyle reacted and with the rag he'd earlier used as a face mask started beating on Nick's leg. When it didn't seem to help much, he looked up at Nick.

"Get down!" he ordered and clutching the CSI's arm, practically shovedhim on the floor, then threw the rag across his leg, stifling the fire with a few more pats.

Nick was left panting on the floor, curled up in pain and clutching his side, the lower part of his jeans charred but not burning anymore. Kyle took off the rag and pulled off some of the material that wasn't sticking to the skin and saw the angry red beneath it. It was hard to say if the red was due to the burns or just the fact that the only light was provided by the fire. In either case, Kyle couldn't do much to help.

"Hey, you okay, man?" he asked Nick, worried by the pained grimace on the man's face.

It took a moment, but after few deep breaths and a grunt, Nick uncurled and gave a shaky nod. He knew he'd ripped out some of the stitches in his side when he fell and his arm was throbbing unmercifully, but his leg felt only slightly painful in comparison.

"Think you can get up?" Kyle asked and cast a worried look down the hall, into the darkness. He couldn't hear past the crackling of the fire next room and the fact that he saw the grimace on the CSI's face made him painfully aware of how visible they were right now.

"We need to move."

"Help me up," Nick croaked and reached out with his left hand. Kyle took it and with some grunting hefted him up, though Nick stayed hunched and swaying, sweat running down his face; but then Kyle realized that he was sweating too and it wasn't just from the effort. He could see the flames licking the floor in the hallway, spreading out fromthe room they were born in.

"Thanks," Nick muttered and made an effort to pull himself together, knowing he would need to be mobile in a few seconds. "Can you...hear them?" he asked nervously and his good hand went to check for the gun that was thankfully still in the holster. Awkwardly pulling it out, Nick looked at Kyle, who was watching the dark hallway in apprehension, eyes looking much like a deer caught in headlights and it was then that Nick heard the voices coming from the stairwell, approaching.

"They're still here," Kyle warned and Nick nodded distractedly. It wasn't enough that they had a fire behind them, they had to fight their way out of the building.

"Where to now?" Kyle asked and Nick shook his head, turning around and nodding toward the fire.

"I think we should pass that by and try to go the other way. We just need to get out of this damn house, I don't care about the Master," Nick growled. "I've been in this area before...most of these houses have two staircases."

"Well, let's hope that you're right," Kyle said and with one last look toward the voices, he quickly headed the opposite way, Nick close on his heels.

"Sorry, but I didn't catch your name the first time," Kyle said in hushed voice as they walked blindly, too afraid to turn on the flashlight until they were around a corner.

"Call me Nick," the CSI answered with a pained smile as he limped through the hallway as fast as he could, wanting nothing more than to get out of the house before the 'Master' or Jonah came back to finish what they started.

-xXxXx-

His left foot barely touched the first stair when he heard several cars pulling up. Walking quickly back to the window, he saw two squad cars parked on the opposite side of the roadway while another one was pulling up at the corner and blocking one end of the street. With a curse, the Master turned and hastily moved from the hall to the stairs, only to catch sight of another person, trying to sneak past him towards the exit. Seeing the familiar lean frame, the Master grit his teeth and grabbed for the person, furious.

Jonah gave a yelp that changed from startled to painful as the Master's grip crushed his biceps.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going, Jonah?" the Master hissed.

"I-I was looking for you," Jonah croaked but it didn't sound very convincing and he knew it.

"Right," the Master snorted and shoved Jonah against the wall by the front of his shirt. "Now listen to me you little coward. I know you wanted to ditch me, but it's not that easy. Last guy that tried to run out on me is talking with the fish at the bottom of Hoover Dam. So if you don't want to join him, you'll do as I say. Understand?" To drive his point home, the Master pulled out his gun and pressed it against Jonah's chin.

Swallowing, all Jonah could do was to give a shaky nod of reply.

"Good. Now why were you 'looking' for me, when I told you to take care of Anders?"

"T-there's some CSI guy running around," Jonah stuttered, shivering at the feel of cold muzzle pressing into his skin. "He t-took my knife and c-cut Anders free-" Jonah said and cringed when the fist that was gripping his shirt suddenly let go and hit the wall right next to his ear instead.

"Idiot!" the Master cursed, causing Jonah to flinch even further away from the irate man.

"Where are they now?"

"S-still there, I think. I-I kinda started the fire-" the Master's hand moved and Jonah winced, expecting the impact of his fist, when instead he got a pat on his shoulder.

"Good. At least something's going right. Now listen to me carefully, Jonah," he spoke and his hand gripped Jonah'schin, turning him so that the boy couldn't look away. There was no kindness in the Master's eyes, no familiarity, only cold promise.

"You've got two choices. One, you can walk out this door like you wanted to do a minute ago and get arrested by the cops that are right now deciding how to get into this building…but I'll warn you right now, if you open that door, it will be the last thing you ever do, because trust me, I will kill you first," the Master hissed, his tone low and threatening. "Or two…you can go up these stairs and check if the cop and Anders are really burning to a crisp as you said. Now what will it be?"

There really wasn't any choice if he wanted to live, and Jonah knew it, so he only nodded and cleared his throat, suddenly casting a nervous look to the door.

"C-cops? S-shouldn't we g-get the hell outta here?" he stuttered and the Master gave a snort.

"Chill, man. First they need to 'assess' the situation before they come crashing in. But you're right, we don't have much time." With that, the Masterturned around and walked to the broken table in the corner and pulled it over to the pile of trash that was beneath the stairs. Digging into his pocket, he took out a small flask containing alcohol he'd originally planned to use for a different purpose once the job was over. He splashed the liquid on the pile of trash, then took out a matchbook and scraped one alight. Quickly sticking the match back in the book, he threw the whole thing onto the trash, watching the small flame flare up as the other matches lit, then seeing the alcohol catch fire and the flames taking on a life of their own. Satisfied with his effort, the Master turned and quickly walked up the stairs, Jonah right behind him, puzzled.

"W-why did you do that?" he finally asked once they were on the top of the stairs.

"Just buying us some time. Now the cops will need to wait for the fire brigade before they can do anything."

"But how will we get out?" Jonah asked, his voice suddenly high pitched as the panic hit him. He hadn't envisioned himself trapped in a burning house.

"Relax," the Master replied with a smug grin. "I know how to get out. As long as you stay on my side, you'll get to see the light." However cheerful this may have sounded, Jonah only heard the warning and his head bobbed once again.

"What now, Master?" he asked, and cleared his throat, suddenly too aware of the smoke coming further from the hall.

"Now you go down that hall and into the second staircase that's at the end of it. You can check if Anders and the CSI are still in the room, though I really doubt it," the Master said in a half sneer. "Here, take this but don't let me see you if you lose this one too," he gave Jonah his knife, leaving himself only the gun.

"B-but there's a fire-" Jonah protested meekly.

"So you should probably get a move on," the master advised with a grin and without another word headed up the stairs to the second floor.

"W-wait, there's another staircase? But couldn't they have already left that way?"

"The door that opens into the floor below is boarded up. The only way to go is up, and if they went that way, I will find them there."


TBC