A/N: So i'm a complete dick for breaking this up into two parts. I admit it. But I have not got much done writing wise on this and thought better to have a bit more in reserve.

Chapter 13 Wait and Bleed Part 1

The first coherent thought Grissom had was if his skull was cracking open. The pressure inside his head felt like someone had put it in a vice and turning the pulley to apply more and more pressure. The next coherent thought was he felt a warm sticky substance on his face and chest. Then he smelt it, blood, he had blood on him. Before he opened his eyes, he knew some of it was his own, but most of the blood belonged to others.

When Grissom finally opened his eyes, he wished he had kept them close. He saw a pair of dead eyes staring back at him. He did not know whom the eyes belonged too, they were not any of the men he had picked out. The floor under his head was hard and cold. Trying not to groan he closed his eyes when the world started to spin around him. Nauseous overtook him and before he could control it he was gagging. He barely was able to turn on his side before he started vomiting the stir fry Sara had made earlier.

Before Grissom finished he heard the cruel laugh and felt the booted food kick his lower back sending a jolt of pain through him making him cry out in agony. The booted foot kicked him again, both kicks hitting him square in his lower back, what would have been known as a kidney punch if he had been punched.

"Glad to see you are awake Gilbert." Mr. One said reaching down and grabbing a fist full of Grissom's hair pulling him up.

Grissom struggled to stand he felt disoriented and the world had not stopped spinning yet, nor did he feel any less nauseous. "I'm going to be…" before he finished the pathetic warning he felt the contents of his stomach erupting again. He did his best to turn so he would not vomit on the hostage taker, knowing it would not end well for him if he had.

Mr. One let go of Grissom's hair and jumped back in enough time to prevent the vomit from hitting him.

Grissom collapsed back to his knees, one of his legs landing in his previous pile of vomit soaking through the fabric.

When Grissom finally finished he looked up at Mr. One who was standing over him an gun aimed at Grissom's head.

"Better?"

Grissom used his shirt sleeve to wipe his mouth clean of any residue.

Mr. One reached down and again grabbed another handful of Grissom's hair and pulled him to his feet. Forcing Grissom to turn his head he pointed out two fresh bodies, a woman of around thirty and a man around forty, lay dead on the floor only a few feet from where the hostages were being held. "You caused that."

Mr. One sent a fist into Grissom's abdomen winding the man, but keeping a tight grip on Grissom's hair so he could not fall to the ground. As Grissom body tried to drop, Mr. One brought up his knee smashing Grissom's face into it, and then he allowed Grissom to drop to the ground. Grissom tasted and felt the blood from his split lip and possibly broken nose. Grissom groaned on the ground curling into himself as Mr. One started to kick him, hitting him in the ribs, back, and anywhere he could connect with the older man curled in the fetal position trying to protect himself.

Finally, Mr. Two rushed over and pulled Mr. One away. "I thought you didn't want to kill him yet?"

"I don't." Mr. One spit onto Grissom who lay almost unconscious again.

"Then you better stop. He's had enough." Mr. Two said having regretted joining his friend Mr. One. No one was supposed to die, and now they had eight dead bodies. Mr. Two knew that no matter what he and the others would also be charged with each of the homicides and any more that occurred. Nevada had the death penalty, and given the amount of deaths it was likely each one of them would receive a death sentence if they did not get out of that bank and away from the police. With each passing hour it seemed less and less likely. Mr. Two knew Mr. One had a short temper and a propensity for violence, but he never expected this.

Grissom was fading out of consciousness, but before he could he felt cold water being dumped on his head. Groaning Grissom remained in the fetal position trying to protect his injured side, he was sure some of his ribs were bruised if not broken. He no longer cared about the blood dripping from his face and head, or the radiating pain in his back. It was the struggle to breath, even short gasp hurt.

"Get up." Mr. One order looking down at Grissom. "Come on you pathetic asshole get up."

Grissom did not move not because he didn't want to. He wanted to listen to Mr. One, but the pain of his battered body was overwhelming him.

Mr. One reached down and grabbed Grissom's hair again, when he got Grissom's head up, he wrapped a hand around Grissom's throat and dragged him up by his throat to his feet.

Grissom was unsteady on his feet. The hand tightly wrapped around his throat was not helping him obtain the oxygen his body needed. He struggled to breathe, but the hand squeezed tighter cutting off his airway. Grissom's hand shot up, struggling to remove the hand from around his neck, but Mr. One kept squeezing.

"Stop fighting me." Mr. One said.

Grissom struggled to comply, his fight or flight response was stuck in fight mode because he could not run away. He forced himself to lower his hands and allow himself to be strangled by the psychotic asshole.

Mr. One smiled before he loosened his grip. "Good boy."

Mr. One pushed Grissom back, not letting go of the man's neck. When Grissom was in front of the other hostage, Mr. One ordered, "Knee down and put your hands on your head."

Grissom waited for Mr. One's hand to leave his throat, and as soon as it did, he lowered himself. He tried to lower himself to his knees, but he fell forward catching himself on his hands. Before he could move, a powerful kick to the abdomen sent in to the ground gasping for oxygen again.

"You just had to play hero. Now two more families will not see their loved ones when this is over." Mr. One snapped at Grissom, "You made me kill them."

Grissom did not respond, he kept his mind on task, pushing himself back up. He finally managed to get to his knees. He felt his body weaving back and forth as he tried to stay on his knees.

"Hands on your head." Mr. One ordered.

Grissom raised his hands putting them behind his head, he felt warm blood there. He assumed it was from where Mr. One's gun had connected with his skull. There was a lot of blood, but he knew head wounds had a tendency to bleed a lot.

"Good boy. Now stay like that or more people will die."

Mr. One walked away leaving Grissom weaving on his knees and the other hostages silently crying.

"Are you almost ready to breach?" Brass asked the HRT leader knowing with each passing minute the probability of Grissom being on the receiving end of one of the five shots they had heard in the past twenty minutes was increasing. Anyone who might have survived being shot would likely be dead before the HRT cleared the bank.

"We will be ready to go in ten." The HRT commander said having pushed his men as fast as they could. "We just got eyes in."

Brass walked over to the monitored and blanched when he saw a man fitting Grissom's build getting the crap beat out of him by one of the hostage takers. When Grissom's face came into view he knew it was his friend. He was alive, at least there was that, but if the hostage taker kept kicking and hitting him, Grissom would not likely survive.

"We need to get in their." Brass said with urgency.

"We are going through the plan one more time to ensure the last amount of civilian casualties." The HRT leader said understanding Brass's desperation he too recognized the man on the receiving end of the hostage takers wrath. Besides that, when the spanned the bank they saw the blood and multiple dead bodies.

The plan was in place. The negotiator would attempt to make contact one more time in hopes of distracting the hostage taker, Mr. One and hopefully the others. While they talked the HRT would move into place, they found a way into the bank the roof. A team was already in place and just awaiting the order to breach. The roof team would quietly make their way into the bank and get into position. Once they were in position, they would gas the lobby where the hostage takers and hostages were, flashbangs would also be used. While this could cause some harm to the hostages, it was better than them dying. Another team would breach the front door, still open with one of the hostages' dead body propping it open. The ground level team would worry about the hostage takers guarding the hostages, and the roof team would take out Mr. One on the phone and any other hostage takers in his vicinity.

Thanks for reading!