Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami ;;

A/N: Some Spanish… lOl …and I hope y'all enjoy XD

Chapter 25

"Abuela? Where are we going?" The little five year-old girl was confused. Why's she moving around so quickly? What happened? Why do we have to leave again?

"Ella, just move!" Her older brother shushed her up and pushed her towards their grandmother's car parked outside, in front of the house. "Something obviously happened!"

"Oh, my baby, mi hijo desafortunado!" She was in such a state of distress that the two children were worried if she would be able to function. They buckled up in the back seat and their grandmother presented them with a brave smile. "We're going to be okay! Sí, sí… we will." She knew that she needed to inform her husband, but she would call him later.

The elderly woman started the engine and took in a deep breathe. She couldn't let the children, whoever they belonged to, panic. She was curious about why and how the two children were strikingly similar to her son and the young lady he had brought home. She would ask later, after she confirmed the safety and well-being of both her son and the young woman.

"Abuela Clorinda?" The eight year old asked timidly as the vehicle pulled to a stop at a red light.

"Sí, mi nieto." Her breathing was a little irregular, but she was trying her best to keep herself in one piece.

"Where are we going?" His sister sat beside him clinging onto her stuffed bear with one hand and with the other, sucking her thumb. "Ew, Ella. That's gross."

"So?" She looked out the window and watched as the world passed by in front of her. She found the world fascinating behind the safety of the clear window.

"We need to go to Dade Memorial."

"A hospital?" The little boy became very alert and interested. "Who got hurt?"

His sudden intrigue and fascination disturbed the old woman. "Jem," she scolded, "no diga tal blasfemia!"

He cried out indignantly, "But I didn't!"

"Chitón…we'll be there soon…"

"But who are we visiting? Did Abuelo Pavel get sick again?"

The old woman's eyes narrowed. How does he know my husband? Must add to the list of questions that I'm going to ask Eric later… "No, Eric was…injured during work." She tried to euphemize the situation the best that she could.

Jem frowned in thought a bit. "Daddy?" Ella looked up from her deep reverie. The elderly driver arched a gray eyebrow. More questions…Eric isn't that irresponsible…we raised him better than that…

"Daddy? What about Daddy? Is Daddy and Mommy okay?" Ella thumb dropped out of her mouth as she clung desperately onto JoJo.

Their grandmother shook her head in complete dread. She had no idea. Please let my baby boy, mi hijo solo, be okay… let him be well… She tried anxiously to swallow her fears away and breathe naturally, but it proved to be a difficult task.

"Let us hope… and pray," she said after a while. They were almost at their destination.

There was no time to catch the elevators, so they just ran in and semi-waved at the receptionist. They grabbed their kits and ran out to where the car was sitting outside of the lab, engine still running. There wasn't a second to lose, even for something as natural as breathing. While driving maniacally back to the crime scene, she had her colleague call in for traffic assistance.

Since they were driving in a regular-looking car, people screamed obscene things in their direction. The citizens of Miami were, for the most part, telling them to 'get off the road' or 'learn to drive.' By simply shoving his badge at people through the open window, many people quickly shut their mouths.

As much as they would never like to admit, they were scared. They, nearly everyone, looked up to their boss with respect and honor, like he was some sort of untouchable hero. The fact that he had been struck down, even if it was only 'minor' injuries, meant that he wasn't really a superhero. That his life too could be taken away at any time. Like Speed, thought the blonde CSI with a shudder. And what about Eric? He better make it… Natalia… what could have happened to her?

As she pulled towards the apartment complex and began parking, she quickly discerned her boss trying to comfort his wife. The two CSIs gathered their kits and went under the yellow tape. They rapidly signed the chain of custody before making their way over to the ginger-haired man, who was soothing the distressed brunette.

"Horatio? I'm so sorry. Are you-"

"Ma'am…I'll be fine. Detective Tripp will accompany you both up to Mr. Litano's room." She nodded. "I'm heading over to Dade Memorial to check on Eric."

"Okay, what are we looking at in the crime scene?"

"Find out what happened. Find Natalia. She is top priority right now."

Ryan appeared on edge and miserable "How much time do you think we have Horatio?"

"Never enough, Mr. Wolfe," he said as put on his dark shades. "Never enough." He helped his wife into his Hummer and then proceeded to enter the driver's seat with a promise from the two CSIs that they would contact him if they found out anything and vice versa.

They stood outside the door. Whatever lay inside was the cause of all their current problems. Another search -more thorough this time around- was conducted to positively assure the safety of the room's next 'visitors'. The police department wasn't taking anymore chances.

The smell of rotting flesh still in the air smacked the two CSIs in the face and settled into their nostrils as they reluctantly entered. The detective had once again, kindly offered to stay outside. Ryan took one glance around at all the disorder and chaos that was now the crime scene. The paramedics sure know how to screw things up. This is going to drive me insane.

"Calleigh, do you mind if I stepped outside just to ask Frank about what happened? I'm not bailing out or anything…I'll be right back." His blonde colleague and good friend, practically older protective sister, glanced over from the kitchen she had made her way over to.

She smiled widely and assumed that the odor was making him nauseous. No need for the crime scene to be further comprised…we have a CSI to find. "Sure, Ryan. Go ahead."

He nodded in gratitude and strode quickly out the door. The two men spotted each other at approximately the same time. The older man teased his subordinate.

"Smell get to you?"

"Ha ha," the CSI replied wryly, "you're one to talk."

The older man chuckled despite the harsh circumstances.

"Frank what happened?" The question immediately brought him back down to Earth.

He coughed. "I honestly don't know. I was standing outside this room. Room 706. No one entered save Horatio and Alexx and a while later, Eric and Natalia."

"Nobody else?"

"Nobody else. Zip."

"Well, what happened after that?" The last thing Ryan wanted to sound like was the IAB, but he needed to determine what had occurred. It might help us find Natalia…

"What is this, Ryan, 20 questions?"

"Sorry, I'm just trying to find out what happened…especially since Natalia's missing." She might have been the FBI's mole, but that didn't mean that she wasn't human. And she, unfortunately, is one of us now… His jaw set in annoyance. No matter what, his job was to serve and protect the citizens of Miami. He was expected to do no less.

This hangover is killing me…I should have grabbed another Motrin from Valera… Thinking of her, made a smile creep onto his lips. She so crazy and random and that's why… I love her. Wait… no, yeah… yeah…I do… I should probably go and talk to her later…

If the detective took any notice of the slight change in the CSI's demeanor, he didn't mention anything. "I was standing here and then, out of the blue this crazy loud music came blasting on. I personally thought it was the neighbors at first, but then I figured out that it wasn't.

"I ran in…and I saw these bloody drag marks. I thought I heard something in the one of the rooms. Turned out to be the kitchen. All I know is that I fired two shots at the guy attacking Delko. Horatio hit him twice also."

The CSI appeared slightly disturbed as to why exactly his colleague would get attacked so ruthlessly. Does this have to do with the marijuana he bought? But his sister went off chemo and got better… I don't think it's about drugs… it could be… "Do you know where you shot the guy- suspect?"

"Luke Litano? I shot at him. Twice. How should I know? He was violently swinging at Delko. I probably hit his shoulder or something. What are you IAB? I did what I thought was necessary at the time. I'm sure Horatio did the same, considering he and Alexx were knocked unconscious from Litano."

"Whoa, sorry, man. Look. We just wanna find Natalia. And I just figure this will help determine where she might be."

"Don't you have to actually go inside the room to figure all that mumbo-jumbo that you CSIs do?"

"Yeah, thanks Frank." He reentered Room 706 in search of his blonde partner. "Calleigh?"

"Over here!" He met her in the kitchen. "Horatio sent Alexx home; so, the night-shift's ME brought the two bodies back to the lab."

"Two bodies?"

"Yeah, one was identified by the landlord as the renter of this room. Luke Litano-"

Ryan scoffed, "I've been hearing that name a lot."

The ballistics expert smiled. "We all have." She was looking for any sort of clue as to what happened- and for anything that could help them find out where Natalia could have disappeared to. There was a small hiding place in the kitchen that wasn't much. There were no useful fingerprints, but she swabbed for epithelials and hoped that she had obtained some workable amount of DNA for Valera to positively match to someone. She had also bagged and tagged a metal baseball bat with blood on it.

Most likely Eric's, thought Ryan grimly as he recalled what Frank had previously said.

As if reading his thoughts, she stated, "Blood spatter on the walls is most likely Eric's."

"What about Horatio and Alexx?"

"There'll possibly be contamination due to that, but for some reason, with Eric, the suspect went into a state of over-kill."

"So, if Frank and H hadn't shot-"

"-They did and that's all that matters," she interrupted grimly.

A curious thought got the best of the young man. "Wait, who was the other guy?"

"He's a John Doe, for now."

"For now?"

"Well, other than moaning Natalia's name repeatedly, Horatio said that Eric was muttering a name that sounded something like Larry."

"Larry?"

"The two of them had prison tats… so we're going run them through the database."

"What the tats or their fingerprints?"

She stood up from where she was crouching to meet her partner at eye level. "Both, of course."

"Yeah." He nodded more to himself. "Of course… I'll go check out the other rooms." He grabbed his kit.

He found himself in the living room and took detailed notes of his surroundings. Not that there was really much to go on. There appeared to be no signs of a struggle and the only thing out of place was the fact that Natalia's processing kit was situated in the middle of the room.

Oh, and the fact that there was a huge puddle of blood sitting in the middle of the living room. Okay, I'm exaggerating… but this has got to be the dead guy's blood… the drag marks are going through it… possibly our primary crime scene. He took some photographs before stooping down and testing the area to see if it was really blood. It was. He took a swab for Valera to process later.

A CD player lay on the table with the power off. That's probably where all the noise was coming from. He was tempted to pop it open to see what kind of music it was, but he knew that there may be some good fingerprints on it. Fingerprints are always more easily present on plastic… He powdered it for any prints and then photographed it. The prints were everywhere. Ooh…got some really good ones… He tape-lifted all of them.

Finally came the time to pop open the lid. Sitting inside was a Three Days Grace single album, I Hate Everything About You. After photographing the CD, the CSI carefully lifted it out its surroundings. That's odd, it's scratched…not scratched… more like gouged… In oblique lighting, he found some more fingerprints that he dusted for and properly lifted.

Once that was over with, he noticed that there was a rag on the ground. He snapped a picture of its position relative to the rest of the room and then bagged and tagged it. It was saturated with some sort of chemical. He looked up and half smiled as he slowly began to understand what may have happened that morning. The suspect must have stepped out of that closet and drugged her from behind… or something like that.

The closet door was open ajar and with his gun drawn, he fully opened it. Not taking anymore chances… Nobody was inside, but he did find a bottle of nitrous oxide. What the heck… The bottle was closed and so he placed it into a properly filled-out manilla envelope. Just because the label says 'Nitrous Oxide' doesn't mean that's the only chemical necessarily in there.

He knew that there would be no way fingerprints could be found on this sort of furniture and therefore swabbed for any epithetials or saliva. Yet another reason to stop by and visit Valera…He hit the jackpot with the fact that whoever had been hiding inside the closet had sneezed onto the door and left behind a whole lot of DNA.

Taking a last sweep of the room, he observed the window. It was open. Got a case-cracker there Wolfe…July in Miami and the window's open… Nonetheless, he went over to check it out.

And he was glad that he did.

"CALLEIGH! You better come over here right now!" Now that… that's a CASE breaker all right!

The blonde CSI came jogging in from the other room. "Ryan, are you okay? Did you find something?"

"Yeah. There's blood all over the fire escape and if I can see properly it continues down the ladder!"

"Alright, one step at a time. Did you spray it with Luminol?"

He hadn't. He was so excited that it had slipped his mind. "No." He grabbed from his kit some Q-tips and a bottle of Luminol. The sticky red substance was glowing positive for blood. He boxed a couple swabs for Valera. Some were blood from the ladder and some were gravitational drops. Maybe I don't really get along with Natalia that well, but I hope she's not dead…

"Okay, Ryan. You take the ladder, see if you find anything else, I'll meet you at the bottom, on the street."

"Wait, where're you going?"

"I'm taking the stairs."

"Oh, great."

Calleigh laughed and exited the room with her kit. She bumped into the MDPD police officer standing outside. "Hey, Jessop. Do you know where Frank went?"

"Bathroom, I think. And he needed a break. He could be outside, I'm not really that sure."

She smiled friendly. "It okay. Thanks!" She waved and took the nearby staircase. So many stairs today… I hope we can find her…

She passed the detective outside. He was chatting with his partner. "Hey, Frank," she was slightly winded from the flight of stairs, "Ryan may have found something."

The older man's arms were crossed in front of his chest. "Oh, that's good." He soon found himself and his partner hurrying to keep up with the woman. She was a woman with a drive. She would find her friend and colleague. She had to.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah. I'm not too great with heights." He was hanging out on about the fourth floor.

"You failed to mention that before I left."

"Yeah, sorry." He glanced over. "I'll get down; I just need a moment."

Calleigh pursed her lips. She didn't have time for his behavior and had a sharp eye out for anything. The detective beside her tapped her shoulder. She looked over her shoulder at him.

"What's that? Blood?" He was pointing at the door that led to the laundry facilities.

She quickly swabbed it and after a fine spray of Luminol informed her that the sample was positive, her face brightened up. Oh my… "Frank! He might be in there! With her! We're going to need back-up."

"Got it." He called into his walkie-talkie for back-up units to arrive. They were forced to hang around for the next ten minutes, which was a long time since they were on a tight schedule.

"Hey! I'll be there soon, wait!" The poor young man was now on the second floor.

A/N: Hehe… lemme know your thoughts please! XD

Here's some Spanish translations:

mi hijo desafortunado: my poor son

Sí, mi nieto.: Yes, my grandson.

no diga tal blasfemia!: don't say such blasphemy!

Chitón: Hush

mi hijo solo: my only son