Interesting day today, we had our trainee in, it was her first day of working at the lab. She seems to be really nice, which is a good thing because I'm working with her tomorrow. Anyways…for a period of ten minutes she followed me around the lab, right on my heels, almost in my way a few times, asking all sorts of questions. Not that I mind, but it's really creepy to have someone watch you that closely. Then I left the lab for two seconds and come back and she's running the machines!

Once again, not a bad thing, my boss let her run for a few minutes while I took lunch, so she knew how to start it up, and basically she jumped at it the first second she got. I guess it's a good thing when they are interested in the job, but does it have to be on my turf :D

Chapter Five: Underfoot

The house, though built in the late 40's, had been refurbished several times over the years. It used to be owned by their victims, and ownership now feel into the hands of brother, unless of course the CSI team could prove that he was behind the murder. The two-story residence had been well taken care of, but one could tell easily enough that house itself was old.

It could be heard in the creaking of doors, the way the floor bent under their weight as Sara and Greg moved carefully through the open room. Kneeling down, Greg folded the rug back at the corner, running a small light across the boards. Sara shook her head as she watched him, standing only a few feet away.

"What are we looking for exactly?" she asked him, her gaze drifting around the room. They had been here now for hours, and were in the same place as they started; nowhere. When they first came here, Sara thought it was just because Greg wanted to do another sweep of the area. Watching him now though, it looked as though he was looking for something in particular.

Therefore, his answer was a surprise. "Anything," he stated, sitting back on his heels, letting out a sigh.

"There's nothing here Greg," she told him lightly. She knew that he had wanted to find something, so had she. They had no leads at the moment. "If there was, it's already been cleaned up."

Greg shook his head, glancing up towards the ceiling. "There has to be something," he mumbled quietly.

Sara knelt next to him, placing a single hand on top of his to redirect his attention back to her. "There isn't," she let out a small sigh. "We've been here for nearly ten hours, we've gone through both floors, every room. We haven't missed anything."

Greg closed his eyes, sighing. They were missing something, he could feel it in his gut, but he couldn't place his finger on what. True, they had been everywhere, had double checked everything. If they left now, there was very little chance they would be able to return. Sara knew this as well.

Standing up he shrugged Sara's hand off, walking back out into the main living room. Sara was not too far behind, she bumped into him when he came to a sudden stop, but he made no vocal comment about it.

"The wife was here," Greg stated, pointing to the floor below him. "Laying face down…the husband was several feet away, on his back."

"He was backing up," Sara suddenly said behind him.

Greg turned around, facing her. He held his hands up slightly as he began to walk backwards, taking even spaced steps, counting as he did so. The floor underneath him creaked heavily as he progressed backwards, something Sara had been noticing, but Greg hadn't seemed worry.

"Thirteen steps," Greg announced as he came to a stop, folding his arms now. "Who walks backwards thirteen steps?"

Sara shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Besides you? Someone trying to get away from something, or someone. Never take your eyes off of them, your only choice is to walk backwards…"

Greg nodded, already walking back across the room. His pace was interrupted however as the floor boards caught the edge of his shoe, effectively tripping him. Sara nearly laughed, and she would have; that is if Greg didn't disappear completely.

The floor boards, weak from years of usage, snapped easily under the sudden force of his weight, dropping him completely through the floor, the boards tearing in a jagged line. At first Sara was stunned, unable to react at the initial moment. Then suddenly reality dawned at her, and she found herself moving quickly to the hole that now was in the center of the floor.

Dropping down to all fours, she crawled close enough to see over the edge, going as far as she could, ignoring the creaking of the boards beneath her. At first she couldn't see anything; darkness enveloped the area below, and dust billowed up in the air. Fishing her flashlight from her pocket, she called Greg's name several different times, each time receiving silence in response.

Her throat felt as though it was swollen as she held the flashlight so the beam shined down into the darkness; her hands were shaking, making it hard to see anything. But the beam finally did land on pale flesh, and shortly after she could make out his face as the dust began to settle.

His eyes were closed, and a cut ran the length of his forehead, the blood beginning to bead and run down in small trails down towards the ground. The rest of his body was covered by the boards that had fallen after the initial break.

She called his name a few more times, before realizing that she would get no immediate response. Sara only paused long enough to ensure herself that the sounds she heard was that of Greg's steady breathing. Crawling back carefully, Sara reached her kit that rested near the door, pulling out her phone.

She held her breath as the phone rang, and it was picked up after the second ring. She wasted no time for the lady on the other end to greet her, and instead immediately starting requesting medical aid, explaining only briefly what had happened, making sure that the information had been transferred correctly before ending the call.

She was on the verge of calling Grissom when she heard a soft groan, one that was barely audible, but within the next second she was leaning back over the hole, flashlight in hand. She was thankful to see his eyes open slowly, blinking against the intrusive light.

"Greg," she called down to him, watching him closely. "Can you hear me?" He had closed his eyes again, so she wasn't sure if he was coherent as of the moment. She was pleased to get a weak response in return.

She let out a long sigh, smiling with relief. He sounded well enough, though the pain could be heard easily, laced within his voice. Still, if she was going to keep him calm, she needed to keep calm herself.

"Help's on the way Greg, just hang in there," she made sure that her voice was loud enough for him to hear.

He didn't say anything back at first, a stretch of silence filled the room, his eyes closed as he tried to control his heavy breathing. Then as Sara moved to break the silence, he finally spoke up.

"I…I think I can get up now," he whispered, his voice loud enough that Sara could just barely hear it.

Sara shook her head quickly, voicing her concern. "No Greg, don't move. Just…just lay there. I know it hurts, you've fallen into a basement or something. Just stay still, okay? If you landed wrong, you can really hurt yourself by trying to move. Help's going to be here soon."

Greg didn't respond after that, and she could hear his breathing lessen, becoming more and more strained. Panicked, Sara called his name several different times, hoping for a response and getting none in return, as the sounds of sirens filled the air.

TBC