A/N: Hey guys. So I've worked really hard to get another chapter together before I go back to work on Monday. Booo. I have really enjoyed this break and it's given me time to concentrate on my writing. I thank you all for your support and reviews.

And, I would just like to say something a little more on the serious side. For those of you who know my writing and I'd say a lot of you do, when I post "Angst"/"Hurt" as a guidance, you can guess it's going to be pretty angsty. And, I did make an effort to say in my notes at the start of this story that this fic wasn't going to be all that nice. So please, I implore you, If you do not like angst then don't read.

But, please, do not EVER say that I don't love GSR because you are wrong.

GSR and my passion for it is why I continue to write, despite the lack of it on the show. I may not always be nice about it but, it's as simple as, I like writing angst. I like putting GSR in peril but I also love the aftermath and their recovery. And, anyone who knows me well enough can grasp that there is always that moment on the horizon that makes you realise why you continued to read.

I am sorry if my angst is not your cup of tea and that is your choice. I respect that. Just do not judge who I am and what I believe.

Ok, enough of my rambling. Evil hat is getting impatient. ON WITH THE ANGST! HURRAH!

Chapter 15

Sara's neck stretched as Ryan's injured but still strong fingers continued to grip onto her throat. She so badly wanted to try and turn her head to check on her husband but she fought the urge. She wasn't exactly in the best position to be doing that.

Her position in itself appeared pretty bleak and she knew she needed to find an answer her captor may like. She did suspect, that deep inside, below his anger, beyond the brutality that she had witnessed that there was a reason for him being like he was and there was some form of human being that she just might be able to reach. She almost had before...

Things needed to be calmed and she needed to regain his trust.

"You..." she began, barely audibly but calmly, trying to swallow, "...could...please...put me down?"

"Now why would I want to do that? You lied to me, Sara," he replied as he slipped his gun into his pants.

She frowned, her lips puckering with nerves. "I...what?" She didn't understand.

He leaned in closer. "You said you weren't going to run."

Now Sara had to think fast. "Well, technically, you said you didn't believe me so..." She tried a nervous smile, "...it didn't really count..."

His nose ruffled a tad, his eyes narrowing just a little bit and Sara felt the force on her throat relenting a tiny bit more. But, she needed to keep this momentum going if they were ever going to get out of this so she continued to talk to him.

"We didn't cause the accident it just..." She managed to swallow, "...just happened. And...we took the chance and ran. You need to understand..." She dared to raise a hand and she slowly placed it on the one at her throat, "...I am a mother and I will do all I can to protect my babies if the opportunity arises. And it did. What mother won't fight for her kids?"

Ryan blinked, his glance shifting down to look at her hand as it softly clung to his.

It seemed she had struck a nerve.

Slowly, Sara felt her body sinking and her feet flatted on the carpet. She breathed a gentle sigh of relief as Ryan slipped his hand out from under hers and released her.

Instantly, her own hand fell to her throat to assess the damage. It hurt and no doubt the red finger indentations she couldn't see but feel would bruise like a bitch.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Folding his arms across his chest, Ryan watched as Sara now dared to take a look behind her to her husband.

"Answer me a question," Ryan began. "Why, shouldn't I just kill him?"

Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Sara turned back to him.

"I already said that!" Jay cut in, holding his hands high in the air to get some attention.

Ryan held a finger up. "Don't interrupt," he commanded and Jay huffed, stepping away to explore the house a little. "Whatever," he moaned.

Waiting for his answer, Ryan raised his hand to his head and now held it over the cut which refused to stop bleeding. His shirt was now covered in blood.

"Because...I need my husband and my children need their father." Her hands slipped from her throat to rest on her stomach. "And he's a good father. I would not want my children to have to cope with what I had to, not having a father. You can't take him away from us...please don't... He...won't be an idiot again, I promise."

The gunman's brow rose for more than one reason. "Another promise?" he sniggered.

"I mean this one," she said sincerely.

"Hmmm..." He licked his lips. "Enlighten me...why didn't you have a father?"

Sara's hands smoothed over her tummy as her heart skipped a beat. That wasn't really something she wanted to get into at that point. She tried to change the subject. "That's not of greatest importance right now." She pointed to his face. "Your head needs tending to, the bleeding is bad and..." She shot a quick glance behind her, "...I'd like to try and make my husband more comfortable. He could choke if he stays like that."

He snorted. "Ever the helpful one, aren't you?"

She didn't answer but as he pulled his hand away from his wound and checked out his blood laden hand, he agreed. "Probably a good idea though." He placed his hand back over his gash.

Sara wanted to tend to Grissom first but, she knew that wouldn't be allowed until she'd made some form of effort to help Ryan, so she took a step closer to her captor. "May I?" she asked, extending her hand towards his.

He nodded and Sara softly peeled his hand away from his head although, as she inspected his wound she found it difficult to take her thoughts away from her husband who still lie unconscious just a few short steps behind her.

"It looks pretty bad," she informed him. "You're going to need stitches, so you should see a doctor."

Clearing his throat he smiled. "Well..." He clicked his lips together a little too cheerfully for Sara's liking, "...I think we both know the doctor's not going to happen but, I'm sure you can deal with it."

Sara's jaw dropped. "What?" She took a step back, lowering her hand. "I'm...not a medical doctor, I can't..."

"Oh I'm sure you can, if you try hard enough."

The female CSI found the evident dry lump which had formed in her throat hard to swallow.

"Jay!" Ryan shouted. Spinning around, trying to spot his brother. "Where the hell'd you go?"

Cautiously, Sara backed off now and edged towards Grissom as Ryan waited for Jay to appear.

"Jay!" He spun back to face her just as she was about a foot from reaching her husband. "What are you doing?" he probed.

"Just, checking him..." She clenched her fingers nervously and then gave him control back. "Is that okay?"

He thought for a moment and then nodded but pointed a firm finger. "Next time, you ask first. You got that?"

Sara nodded back. "I got it." She struggled to crouch down next to where Grissom still lie. Her whole body felt like it was reaching a point it was about to quit on her and run out the door. She feared for her babies, in more ways than one. She wasn't stupid and she knew the stress and exertion she was enduring was enough to send her into premature labor. She prayed to a higher power that that didn't happen.

She hovered over him, holding a shaking hand against his cheek. "Gil?" she pleaded. "Baby, wake up." Again, she checked his pulse with her free hand, it was still there. He had a lovely bump forming above his eye but thankfully the cut next to it was no longer bleeding. She really needed to get him off the floor and if she could, into a horizontal position. She had no idea after Jay's attack whether he had any rib damage. Sitting him up would be the best position for him and it would ease his pain.

Jay came marching through the door he'd initially burst through earlier. "Well, that's the kitchen," he proclaimed, almost falling over the dead house owner. He looked at the body and screwed up his nose. "That's going to stain the carpet," he commented.

Ryan rolled his eyes, which wasn't the best idea as it didn't help the pain in his head. "We'll deal with him shortly; right now I need some…" He flapped a hand at his face, "…stuff for this."

The younger brother stepped towards his sibling and eyed his injury. "What exactly do you need?"

"Sara…here…now," he demanded.

Looking over her shoulder, Sara hesitated. "Please can we get him off the floor first? It will only take a minute. It's not safe for him to be on his back like this."

The look her captor gave her in response to her request was blank and not particularly helpful. She ran a hand over her husband's arm before she sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She simply dare not defy them again. Taking the few short steps back to them, she stopped and her shoulders slumped.

Ryan pointed to his head. "Tell me how we are going to sort this, I'm starting to feel like shit and then..." He kinked his head towards Grissom, "I will move him."

"Okay..." Sara's spirit lifted just a little. "Um...well, erm...we'll need a needle and thread, some form of anaesthesia, not that there is probably any of that here. Something to sanitize the needle, alcohol would do, probably some gauze, band aids, painkillers and I could use some ice for..."

"Whoa...whoa...okay, okay," Ryan stopped her. "Damn...you just go with my brother and find what the hell it is we are going to need to fix this hole in my head."

Sara took a breath as another bout of anxiety flooded her but she nodded. "Can..." She pointed behind her, "...we get him up first? It could take us a while to find what we need."

Ryan looked to his brother and Jay shrugged. "Up to you, Bro. You're the one bleeding all over the place. If it was up to me, I'd just leave the asshole there."

It was hard for Sara not to verbally retaliate to Jay's comment but she bit down on her tongue and fought the urge.

"Fuck..." Ryan mumbled. He gestured towards Grissom, "...help me Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes and followed his brother as Sara stepped aside and watched as they approached her husband.

"You're too damn soft," Jay grumbled.

"Shut it," the older brother warned, leaning over Grissom and assessing the best way to get the unconscious CSI from where he was to the sofa.

Jay looked over his shoulder and smirked at Sara. She didn't appreciate the look of enjoyment he seemed to be giving her.

"Grab his other arm," Ryan directed, grabbing the upper part of Grissom's right arm.

Sara stepped closer and Jay did as told, taking Grissom's left arm.

The two men hauled Grissom up and his head fell limply backwards.

"Please be careful," Sara pleaded as they dragged him towards the sofa and lifted him up onto it.

Both men stepped back and took a breath as the unconscious CSI veered to his side and lay crumpled in a heap. Ryan reached into his pocket and took out the cuffs he had picked up from the dead officer back at the store.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked on a heavy swallow.

Ryan threw the cuffs to his brother. "Just a little caution for the moment."

Sara's mouth worked in nervous circles but she could do nothing but watch as Ryan pulled Grissom forwards and jay grabbed his arms, cuffing his hands behind his back.

The younger man saw something that grabbed his curiosity as he snapped the metal into place. "Hey take a look at this," he said to his brother.

Ryan looked over Jay's shoulder and noticed he was pointing at Grissom's hand. "Dude's missing a finger."

"Hmmm..." The elder brother's eyes flicked to his female captive. "Interesting..."

Sara blew out a breath.

"Maybe another topic of conversation for later," Ryan said with a grin.

They both released Grissom now and Sara approached. "Can I..." She pointed to her man."

"Be quick," Ryan demanded.

Tired and aching legs carried Sara to the sofa where she immediately grabbed a cushion. Gently, she took her husband's shoulders in each of her hands and leaned him to his right, placing the cushion onto the sofa arm, resting his head upon it. She couldn't leave him entirely upright because he could easily fall and cause himself more damage. For now, until she was allowed to give him serious attention, this would have to do.

"Okay..." Ryan inclined a finger, "...times up. Let's go before I bleed to death here."

Sighing, Sara ran a finger over her husband's cheek before straightening herself out.

Ryan cornered the sofa to stand directly in her immediate space. "I think we know where we stand if you dare to try anything, don't we, Sara?" His eyes floated to Grissom, a devilish grin forming on his lips.

Sara knew Ryan wouldn't hesitate to execute her husband now should they be defied again. She nodded without hesitation.

"Good." Ryan seemed pleased with himself. "Now go with my brother and find what we need and don't worry about him..." He nodded to Grissom, "...I'll make sure I keep him company..."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Sara, along with her chaperone, searched the kitchen first. Well, Sara did most of the looking while Jay seemed happy enough just to observe her doing all the work.

After rummaging through numerous cupboards under the sink area she'd found a small box containing a minimal amount of first aid supplies. A few bandages, some medical tape, cotton balls and band aids plus a box of aspirin. Sadly, there was no antiseptic.

When checking the higher storage areas she spied a bottle of bourbon on the very top shelf. She swore under her breath and she stretched upon her tip toes, trying to salvage the bottle. But, she couldn't reach. Her protruding belly didn't aid her task as it meant the sideboard pushed her further back than she needed to be.

She heard Jay sniggering behind her. "Damn it!" She spun around, giving him a death glare as he leaned nonchalantly against the counter behind. "We could find what we need a lot quicker and help your brother a lot faster if you can interrupt your busy schedule and help me."

He grinned broadly. "I just like looking at your ass as it wriggles. You have a nice ass."

Sara was stunned. With everything that was going on his main concern at that point was her backside? Good God. She shook her head in disbelief. "Are you going to help me or what? I really don't want to play any games with you right now."

"Awww..." Jay pouted as he pushed himself way from the counter. "No Games?" His eyes narrowed as he closed in on her, so close in fact that she had to step back and he pinned her against the work top. His lips curled a sickly grin. "Such a shame you don't want to play right now."

Sara found herself grinding her teeth, trying not to react to him in anyway even though she hated his line of conversation.

"Jay!" Ryan bellowed from the other room. "Hurry the hell up, my head is fucking killing me!"

Taking a step back, Jay looked Sara over from head to toe. "Maybe we can play later?"

"You're disgusting," Sara spat, getting his meaning.

"Hmmm..." He edged closer again and Sara eyes widened as she caught glimpse of his arm raising. What the hell was he going to do?

But, she groaned relief when all he did was reach above her to grab the bottle of alcohol. He stepped back, held the bottle out to her and she snatched it from his hand.

She glared at him but all he did was grin.

"So we done in here?" he asked, folding his arms.

After placing the bottle with the other supplies, grabbing a glass and an empty bowl, Sara walked to the fridge, anything to get some distance from him. "Almost..." she finally replied as she continued to feel his eyes upon her. She grabbed a container and filled it with ice from the ice box then took numerous cloths which lay upon the side.

"That's about all we can use from here," she informed him.

He nodded and picked up the stash from the sideboard, nodding back towards the door. "After you..."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Sara and Jay dropped the supplies in the living before moving upstairs to search for the most vital thing Sara needed. It was essential they found some form of sewing material, without it, Sara knew there wasn't much chance of her fixing Ryan's gash.

She didn't particularly want to go upstairs with Jay; especially after his stomach turning performance in the kitchen but refusal, she knew wasn't an option, so she just got on with it and hoped he would keep his distance. As they searched the two bedrooms and small attic room upstairs, Ryan waited, even if getting more and more impatient by the minute...

Grissom's eyes clenched tightly, a small groan falling from his lips as he became deeply aware of the throbbing in his head. Slowly, his eyes opened and he blinked numerous times, attempting to focus.

Everything hurt.

He tried to move but then became very conscious that his hands were secured behind his back. He tugged but no relief came from the shackles at his wrists. Turning his head, just a little, he came eye to eye with Ryan who sat just a short distance away from him on the opposite sofa, staring.

The hostage taker pushed himself to his feet, approaching the restrained CSI.

Grissom tried to swallow and it hurt.

Squatting beside his captive, Ryan smiled. "Comfortable?" he asked sarcastically.

Wincing, Grissom closed his eyes and tried to think but his eyes shot open when Ryan poked the bump on his head causing more pain.

"At least yours isn't quite a bad as mine," he joked. "I could make it a little worse if you want..."

Again, Grissom tried to swallow but the lack of saliva in his mouth made it very difficult. His heart pumped, nerves pinched. This was territory Gil Grissom did not want to find himself in. "Where's my wife?" he asked trying to ignore the threat.

Ryan pushed himself up and sat on the sofa arm, right next to Grissom's head. It hurt the CSI to move that little bit he needed to in order to keep eye contact with his captor. But he managed it.

"She's just having a little house rummage. She'll be back shortly," Ryan replied.

Grissom had no idea what Ryan was talking about and frowned. The gunman tapped his head. "I need a little attention...and she's going to assist me. She is helping my brother to look for supplies."

The supervisor's eyes drifted into nothing. That didn't really make him feel any better. In fact it made him feel worse. Alone with a maniac now...

He just wanted to see her so he had confirmation she was okay.

"We had a nice little chat, Sara and I..."

Grissom's eyes shot back to him.

Ryan nodded. "Yes we did. She tried to convince me not to kill you...said, that from now on you would do as you're told..." His brow rose, he pulled out his gun and Grissom startled, his eyes locking upon the weapon. Ryan licked his lips. "Do you think she succeeded?" he asked.

The CSI's breathing quickened as Ryan flicked back the safety on his gun.

The gunman smiled. "Open your mouth..."