A/N: Hey everyone, I hope we are all well. Here is a new chapter. Thank you very much to all for your reviews and support with this story. Angst it is and angst it will remain :)

For those who sent me reviews or comments without being signed in, thanks to you too, although I can't respond to you. Also remember if you have a messaging blocker on your account I can't reply either. I have come across a few of those lately.

Well, evil hat on...and on with the show...

Chapter 16

Panic flooded Grissom although he tried very hard not to move. Ryan's previous words floated through his head...

"Do as you're told..."

If not for himself, he had to do so for Sara.

Slowly and with bile rising up his throat, Grissom opened his mouth and closed his eyes. He expected nothing less than Ryan to thrust the barrel of his gun into the open space he was offering but when he felt something soft on his lips, the CSI opened his eyes.

Ryan grinned broadly at the CSI as he slipped him another cigarette. "You looked a little stressed," the younger man scoffed, "Thought you could use a little relief. Now...close your mouth."

Grissom slowly closed his mouth, wedging the cigarette between his lips. He wasn't a smoker and, never would be but if this was how this maniac got his kicks, better to inhale a little unhealthy smoke than a bullet.

The CSI waited but Ryan made no attempt to light his so called relief.

"Now eat it," Ryan ordered coldly.

A frown immediately bore into Grissom's forehead and a single cough of surprise came up from his lungs. He wasn't exactly sure if he'd just heard that right.

The sound of footsteps coming from above broke the bizarre request and Ryan stood, slipping his gun back into his belt, observing Sara as she slowly came down the stairs, his brother following.

Grissom immediately looked in their direction, sighing, feeling a little relief upon seeing his wife and that she was alright.

When Sara reached the foot of the stairs she stopped, immediately seeing Ryan standing right by her husband. She noticed the cigarette in his mouth and her eyes locked with his and rather confused eyes at that.

Sara approached the two men. "What are you doing?" she asked Ryan.

He shrugged. "Just seeing how willing his was to obey orders. I gave him a little snack."

The female CSI looked mortified. Was this supposed to be some form of humorous torture? "You told him to eat that?" she questioned.

"Call it a test," Ryan responded, smiling happily to all around him.

Sara moved right up to him, sidestepping to reach down to her husband. She pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it at her captor.

Ryan did not look amused anymore as the cigarette bounced off his shirt and landed on the floor.

"Sara..." Grissom croaked, his mouth now very dry. He tried to move, wincing as he did, the cuffs digging deeper into his wrists, "...leave it...it's ok, I'll do as he asks." He managed to sit straight, just about but his ribs burned.

Shaking her head, Sara turned to glare at Ryan. "He's pissed you off, I know, but he is not an animal. Please stop treating him like one. We've already been through enough of that shit."

The gunman squared right up to her now, almost nose to nose and Sara felt the nerves in her stomach flourish once again, but, there was an aura of curiosity about Ryan though that she noticed. Everything she said, he seemed to pick up on.

"That's interesting...enough shit already, huh? And...I have to say; very brave of you to stand up for him...but...that wasn't a very smart move, Sara. Are you now telling me what to do?"

Again, his mood shifted so quickly and he was back being that other man that well and truly scared her to her very core.

Grissom tried to push himself up.

"Don't...you dare fucking budge!" Ryan shouted, stepping aside and pointing a firm finger at the CSI when he sensed his movement.

Sara felt a wave of nausea pass over her, as again, her husband's well being became very much in jeopardy. Thankfully, he immediately did as he was told and she breathed a secret sigh of relief.

Grissom froze and now found himself leaning forwards, not daring to shift any further. It hurt and the pain became very evident upon his face. Sara swallowed hard, feeling his pain.

"I'll ask you again..." Ryan began, returning his attention to Sara but she cut him off.

"No," she whispered, looking at him again. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do," she answered. "I'm trying to help you...remember? But torturing my husband isn't going to make that relationship any easier...Please...just stop. He's doing as you ask now, isn't he?"

"He was until you spoiled the fun."

"He's hurt, just like you. He's angry, just like you but you are in charge, he knows that. I know that. Isn't that enough?"

The lights flickered and a boom of thunder enveloped the house. The rain came harder now, harder than it had the whole night and could be heard clattering against the windows.

Ryan ran a finger over his cut then placed his finger in his mouth, licking the blood off.

Sara felt her nose curling at the obvious action of dominance.

Suddenly Grissom groaned and Sara turned to him. "Jesus, Gil," she griped and without even thinking or asking for permission she grabbed the cushion and gently pushed him from the sit up position so he was back lying upright against the sofa.

"We'll be okay," she whispered encouragingly to him. "I'll get to you as soon as I can."

Loudly, Ryan cleared his throat and she closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds before facing him again. He was going to scold her for not asking permission to help her husband so she was quick to prevent him. "We found the rest of the stuff." She pointed to Jay who carried a box. She tried to smile.

Another flicker of the lights came and more thunder. Ryan licked his lips. "Then...I guess we had better get to it, hadn't we?"

Now Sara was nervous. But, she had to do what she had to do or, at least try. She looked around and pointed to a dining table in the corner of the room. "We should...do this over there if that's ok. Give me enough room to spread out what I need and..." she laughed albeit not in a humours way, "...get my head together about this."

"Fine," Ryan agreed without fuss. He looked to his brother. "Watch our friend," he directed, flicking his eyes to Grissom.

Jay smiled. "No problem."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

As Jay flicked through the channels on the TV, supposedly keeping his eye on her husband, Sara spread out the items she had collected from the house upon the dining table.

Ryan stood, watching, as she carefully looked over everything.

Eventually, she pulled out a chair. "Sit," she directed him.

He did as requested and sat in the chair but again Sara nervously went back to the array of things spread over the table. She bit down on her thumb nail, thinking. Picking up the tub of ice she thought for a moment.

"Ummm..." she mumbled, noting it had started to melt.

"What?" Ryan asked, noting her hesitation.

She held a hand to her forehead. "Well...firstly I was going to try and numb the area but...I don't think this ice is going to work and it's all that was left in the freezer. Wait...can we see if there are any frozen bags in the freezer?"

Ryan frowned. "Like what?"

"Anything. Peas...any kind of frozen vegetable..."

"Whatever yanks your crank," Ryan said, not really getting it. "Jay!" he shouted. "Go check the freezer and bring back any bags of frozen shit."

The younger man mumbled something under his breath but managed to pry himself away from the TV to do as his brother had asked. A minute or two later he re emerged with two bags in his hand and he threw them down on the table. "Peas and carrots, all there was." He walked away and re took his place on the sofa.

Sara reached for one of the bags. "Perfect," she said. "Not sure if it will do any good but we can try." She held the bag of frozen peas out to Ryan. "It will sting to start, but hold this over your gash, as hard as you can. We need to try and numb the skin if we can."

Ryan took the bag. "You think this will work?"

She shrugged. "Maybe for a short time, maybe not at all but it's worth a shot. I'm not a doctor and honestly for most of this, I'm going off guess work and what I've seen through my work. Nothing more."

He didn't look too convinced but he placed the bag over the cut on his head wincing as he did so.

"You need to keep it there for at least five minutes, longer would be better."

"Five will be fine," he grumbled as water mixed with blood seeped down his face. "I'm tired of this already." He looked down at his shirt. "And I really need to change," he moaned.

Nervously clearing her throat Sara picked up the other bag. "Um...while were waiting can I please..." She held up the bag, "...use this for my husband?"

Ryan's eyes narrowed but as he was currently occupied, he decided a little compassion wouldn't be that much effort. "Back here in two minutes," he warned.

Sara was quick to agree and rushed back to Grissom.

"Hey..." she whispered, sitting beside him on the sofa, placing the bag on her lap.

His eyes which were fixed on Jay flicked to hers. "What's happening?" he asked. "I don't know what you're doing over there. I've kind of gathered, I think...but, you're not qualified to..."

She placed a soft finger over his lips. "I don't have much choice, so I have to try and I only have two minutes right now so shush and let me take a look at you."

He frowned as she pulled her finger away and looked him over. First she examined the bump over his eye. "How does it feel?" she asked, delicately brushing her finger tips over the damaged area.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I'm more concerned about you."

Pouting, she moved her attention to his stomach. "I'll be okay," she whispered but she didn't sound convincing. "Keep still," she said, carefully pulling his shirt from his pants. Quickly, she unbuttoned the shirt, giving her access to any injury he may have suffered from Jay's attack.

He grimaced when she touched his rib area on the right side.

"You're bruised," she informed him. "But, I don't think there is anything broken." She took the bag from her lap. "Can you shimmy down a little?"

He looked at the bag and knew where she was going. "I can try," he replied, shifting best he could. She helped him, moving another cushion into the middle of his back.

"A little more and try and turn to your left a bit," she said. "I need to balance the ice pack because...you can't hold it."

Grissom managed to shuffle down a tiny bit more, giving Sara enough of an angle to allow her to balance the bag on his side.

"Good..." She placed a hand on his arm. "Now, take a breath," she advised and he did. She placed the frozen pack over his bruise and he jumped, groaning at the sensation burning into his skin. "Hopefully that will help."

"Would help me a lot more if they took the damn cuffs off."

A sad smile pulled at her lips. That was doubtful.

"Sara..." he breathed, trying to keep control under the cold hitting his pain, "... you need to keep your distance from him..."

"Easier said than done, Gil," she scoffed.

"There are things about him you don't know."

She gave him a sympathetic look even if she didn't mean to, smearing the bag over his stomach for a few seconds before bringing it back to his side. "I've seen these men kill two people. What more do I really need to know?"

"Times up!" Ryan shouted, looking in their direction.

Sara bowed her head. "I have to go back to him."

"Wait...you need to know he..."

She silenced him with a gentle kiss upon his lips. Pulling back, she whisked a quick hand over his cheek. "No time. We really don't want to piss him off again. Just hang in there...we can hopefully talk later. Try and keep the bag on your side as long as you can..."

"Now!" Ryan now increased the volume of his voice. His agitation was very evident.

Quickly, Sara stood now, offering her husband a tired smile before rushing back to her commander.

Grissom sighed in frustration, rotating his shoulders in an attempt to gain some relief from the uncomfortable cuffed position he had been forced into. It didn't really work.

He leaned back a touch, attempting to keep the self made ice pack on his injured area. It was easier when Sara was holding it.

"I'll take your cuffs off if you manage to keep that there," Jay laughed.

The CSI looked over to his nemesis not so far away. Grissom decided he didn't have much else to lose so he made a play. "Do I have you word on that?" he groaned as the continuing coolness played havoc with his bruises.

Somehow he managed to perk an interest in Jay. Then again, Jay was a gambling man and he liked a good wager.

The young thug grinned, sitting up. "Sure," he said with an aura of confidence. "I'll give you my word. But what do I get when you lose?"

Grissom hadn't expected this reaction thinking more along the lines his captor was just being an idiot again.

"What do you want?"

Shifting forwards, Jay ran a hand over his chin. "Hmmmm..." he thought aloud. "How about half an hour alone with your wife?"

The look of disgust Grissom gave him made Jay hold up a hand and laugh out loud. "Hey, Dude, I'm just kidding with ya. Maybe if she wasn't so knocked up..."

Grissom bit down hard on his tongue, so hard it hurt. But he knew a retaliating comment would do him no favors.

"How about your other pinkie finger? Just to balance things out a little..."

The CSI's eyes widened and he shook his head, looking away. "I won't even justify that suggestion with a response," he retorted.

Jay sniggered and picked up the remote control for the TV. "Then I guess you don't really have anything you can wager with, do you?"

Grissom ignored the question and tried to look over his shoulder to see if he could catch a glimpse of Sara. Sadly, given his position he couldn't and returned his attention front with a sigh of frustration.

Jay just laughed again but this time it was at TV and not Grissom.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Sara sat back at the table and was very conscious that Ryan was watching every move she made. She cleared her throat and looked over her collected items again. It was quite an interesting selection considering what she was about to attempt. She was thankful they had found needles and thread in the farmers bedroom. Without that she would have been in serious trouble and she was also relieved she had found some gloves in the bathroom. Fine, they were just normal household cleaning gloves but with all the blood Ryan was losing, she would rather have them than nothing.

"Can we get on with this?" Ryan asked. "While I still have blood in me..."

Taking a breath, Sara nodded. "Okay..." she whispered, her nerves returning tenfold.

Ryan lowered his hand and removed the bag from his head, placing it onto the table.

"How does it feel?" Sara asked, noting how red his skin was around the area now.

Poking his gash, Ryan grimaced. "Still fucking hurts," he complained.

Sara worked her jaw, picking up the bottle of bourbon and poring a little in a glass. "Guess the ice pack didn't work," she sighed taking one of the needles and placing it in the glass in an attempt to sterilize it. She looked at him. "We don't have any other form of pain relief that would..."

He startled her by reaching forwards and grabbing the bottle of bourbon with a swift, firm hand. Placing the bottle to his lips he glugged several large mouthfuls of the alcohol before slamming the bottle back onto the table with a satisfying belch.

"That will do for now," he informed her. "Now let's go..." He crooked his finger at her.

Biting on her upper lip, Sara stood and approached him. First she took the needle from the glass and picked up the thread. Luckily it was pretty thick thread so she was hoping it would hold flesh together. Her hands shook a little as she attempted to slip the thread through the eye of the needle. A combination of nerves and exhaustion didn't aid her task.

"Hold that," she asked, holding out the now threaded needle to him. He took it without argument and watched as she put the gloves on.

Next, she took a cloth and moved close to him. She found it odd looking down into his eyes as for the first time since their unplanned encounter, he actually looked quite vulnerable. Blood stained his face and continued to trickle down his skin. He had become quite pale now and even though he had only had a few mouthfuls of the whiskey, his eyes had become slightly glazed. One hope she had was that the alcohol wouldn't fuel more violence within him because that could easily happen.

Gently, she wiped his cut and the surrounding area with the cloth, trying to clean away as much of the mess as she could. Didn't really work very well for every time she wiped more blood would come. She gave up after several attempts and dropped the cloth onto the table.

"Give..." she requested, holding her hand out for the needle.

He gave her the implement and tensed a little as she placed her free hand above his wound.

She gave him her final warning. "This...is going to hurt..."

A/N: Ewww...icky... Lol. Will Sara be able to stitch him up? Then what? Ah, the possibilities. Hehehehee. Thoughts please xx