He was hot but Catherine was cooling him down. God, he groaned she could do things with an ice cube he didn't think was possible.

"He's alive."

What the hell was Brass doing in bed with him and Catherine? And what did he mean he's alive?

"Thank god." Grissom felt the gentle breath of those words and the soft cool touch of Catherine's hand on his face. "He's burning up." She turned to Brass.

"The ambulance is on its way." He reassured her.

"Gil, it's okay, we've found you." She whispered through tears as she looked at the state he was in.

Ambulance? Wish I could think. Catherine hold off doing that with the ice cube for a minute." His fevered mind mixed delirium with reality looking for a way out of his confusion. There was something he had to tell Catherine, something important, he just couldn't seem to remember what. He felt consciousness slipping away

Damn! That hurts! A groan escaped Grissom's lips.

"Careful!" Brass snapped.

"We're trying," a strange voice replied, "there's not many places we can touch him without hurting him," the voice went on. The medic nodded at the cuts, burns and bruises that covered Grissom's body.

Hurt bad! I must have crashed the car, stupid of me. Hey I was in bed how'd I crash the car?

"He's also burning up and lost a lot of blood." The strange voice went on as its owner attached an IV. "We've got to move fast."

"I'll go with him." Catherine informed Brass as the medics slid Grissom's gurney into the back of the ambulance. "Nick and Warrick will be here soon, they'll work the scene."

Good for Warrick and Nick. Didn't think crashing my car would call for them, but if I did it in bed that's got to count for something. He grinned then the pain came back.

Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes arrived just as the ambulance was pulling away.

"He okay?" Warrick, the taller of the two, asked Brass, nodding at the speeding ambulance.

"Nope." The homicide detective replied as the two men walked towards him. "He's lost a lot of blood and he's a mess, burns, cuts, bruises, you name it he's got it."

Trying to remain professional Nick looked around the crime scene. "Looks as though we've got our work cut out for us," he commented to Warrick. "This place has been messed up a lot."

"We were all too busy worrying about keeping Grissom alive to think about your crime scene." Brass retorted angrily. He knew the young man was not really blaming anyone, but he had to vent his frustrations somehow. He had gotten to really like Grissom during the time he had worked as his supervisor on the graveyard shift and he hadn't really minded when Grissom had been given his job when he, Brass, had been moved back to homicide. They had had their run-ins but Grissom was good at his job, one of the best in his field and just by being around he kept everyone on their toes, as they tried to reach his high standards, gain his respect. The thing was, Brass thought, Grissom didn't even realise how well respected he was by all those science nerds.

"I..." Nick began to apologise.

"Forget it," Brass told him, "we're all worried."

The two CSI's moved in to see what, if anything, they could discover.