Chapter 2

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They searched the entire house for the younger CSI, but turned out unsuccessful. Greg was gone.

"Dammit," Nick said, running a hand through his hair nervously as he paced the empty room. "That stupid bastard, why did he go off on his own like that?"

"Nick!" Sara started.

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just…why didn't Nigel take me? Greg has nothing to do with what happened seven years ago."

"We'll find him, Nick. Nigel probably hasn't gotten very far."

Little did she know how right she was.

"I hope so."

"Come on, let's get back to the lab," Sara whispered, leading Nick out of the house.

"No. I have to do something to keep me going. I'm gonna stay here with Catherine and find evidence."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Okay; I'll see you later."

Sara left with most of the guys, leaving only him, Catherine and Grissom, plus a couple officers, at the scene.

"God."

Catherine smiled sadly as she put a hand on Nick's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "It'll be alright, Nicky. We'll get him back."

Nick forced a smile before going outside to see if there were any exits that Nigel could've taken Greg out of. If there was, it'd be possible footprints could be present. God, he prayed. It was quiet outside and he was alone, giving him some time to think. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. If he lost Greg…he didn't know what he'd do. Scream? Cry? Quit? Kill himself? Losing one of his best friends was already painful enough, but now this? He took a shuddering breath as he rounded the corner to the back of the building.

"Come on G, where are you?"

Suddenly he came across a storm cellar door and he had this gut feeling that something wasn't right. Taking a deep breath, he took a picture of it and the ground around it before prying it open. Stealthily, he walked down the stairs and into the cool air of the basement. It was eerie, cobwebs and dust everywhere, the musty smell protruding his senses. The only sounds were of the faint footsteps coming from upstairs and his breathing. He walked slowly around the room, looking for anything that might give them a clue to where Nigel and Greg were.

After a few minutes of wandering, he came to a conclusion: the only way to get to the basement was from the storm door, there wasn't anything down there besides pipes and drains and there was only one small closet that had a dirty old mop inside. Perfect place for a haunted house. Just as he was about to go back out, he passed a narrow hallway, which was weird, because he didn't see it there before. He knew he should probably get Catherine, but at the moment, he wasn't thinking straight. All he cared about was finding Greg.

"Greg?" He whispered loudly, moving farther into the hallway. After what seemed like hours, he came out to another room where it was completely empty.

"Well, that was a waste of time," he grumbled. But then something caught his eye. It was some sort of latch, so camouflaged with the cement ground, he almost didn't see it. Later he would wonder if finding that was a good or bad thing. There was something ominous about the whole thing and he knew he was being careless. Carefully, he bent down and pulled on the latch which opened a hidden trap door. What he saw made his blood run cold. It was Greg crumpled on the ground, his hands tied behind his back, a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth- no doubt soaked in chloroform- and a sticky red substance clumping his blonde hair together. And worst of all: he wasn't moving. It could be from the chemicals or…no he wasn't gonna think about that.

"Oh god. Greg, Greg can you hear me, bud?"

"No, but I can," a voice sneered. A voice that he recognized very well even if it had been years.

And before he felt something collide with the back of his head, he caught glimpse of familiar black- rimmed glasses. Nigel Crane.

~+CSI+~

Grissom had this nagging feeling in his gut, but he didn't know what seemed out of place. Yeah, one of his best CSI's was gone, but there was something else.

"You okay, Gil?"

"I don't know," he said as he walked outside to where Nick had gone. "Something doesn't seem right."

The blonde followed the older man outside and watched him carefully to see what got him so riled up.

"Gil?"

"Hold on…Nick? Nicky!"

No response. "Something's wrong…Nick!" Grissom ran back inside and went up to an officer.

"Did you see Stokes anywhere?"

"No, he went outside and-"

"You were supposed to be with him!" Grissom shouted as he rushed back out the door and searched for the Texan. This was impossible; both of his CSI's had gone missing within a matter of ten minutes apart. He jogged around the building, but found no sign of his CSI.

"Dammit, Nicky."

~+CSI+~

"Ugh," Nick groaned as his head pounded angrily. What the hell happened? Then it hit him. Nigel, house, Greg, basement, Nigel.

"Son of a bitch." He couldn't believe he let that bastard get the drop on him. Nick slowly lifted his head up and blinked to get a look at his surroundings. The room he was in was dimly lit, four cement walls, and no windows. The hatch where he must've been pushed in had disappeared and he knew that there was no way out unless Nigel came back. He was screwed. His eyes scanned the small room and he stopped when he saw a crumpled figure by the other wall. Greg.

"Greg! Greg, can you hear me bud?"

Silence. God what did Nigel do to the kid? Well, he at least had to get that nasty rag out of his mouth. It probably was doing nothing to help his cold either. Nick needed to get them out of here before Greg's sickness got the better of him. No doubt there were infectious diseases in this room just waiting to get a hold on the most vulnerable body.

Nick heaved himself up and crawled to where his best friend lay unconscious.

"Greg," he whispered, pulling out the rag and gently shaking the man's shoulder. "Come on, G, wake up…please."

He was worried about what Nigel had done to Greg exactly. Did he hit him over the head, poison him, kill him? No, thankfully, the younger CSI had a pulse…though it was a bit rapid. He ran a hand through the kid's damp hair before sighing heavily, checking for any obvious signs of injury on the small body. There was none to his relief, but didn't mean he was feeling at his best and…ugh! Why didn't he think about it before? He dug through his pockets but his one flash of hope disappeared when he realized Nigel had been smart enough to take his phone and gun away.

"Fuck…come on Greggo, wake up already."

Finally, after almost three minutes, Greg began to stir. Nick sat forward anxiously; he wanted to make sure the kid knew he wasn't by himself in this.

"Greg? Greg, bud, you alright? Can you hear me?"

Greg's forehead creased and a whimper of pain passed through Greg's lips.

"That's it G, just wake up for me. Open those eyes."

"N-Nick?" Greg's voice was scratchy and weak thanks to those damn chemicals.

"Yeah, it's me buddy," Nick smiled, cupping the back of Greg's neck. It was warm as was his forehead and he knew Greg was gonna catch something if he didn't get help soon.

Greg's eyes flickered open and instantly Nick knew the kid had a fever with his glassy eyes.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Where are we?" Greg groaned, trying to move his arms, but found that he couldn't. He started to pull on the ropes, chafing his skin in the process, and panicked. "Nick, where are we!"

"Greggo, calm down buddy; you're gonna be okay…what do you remember?" He helped Greg sit up and leaned him against the wall. He tried untying the ropes, which were extremely tight, and when he did, Greg sighed in relief as feeling slowly surged back into his hands.

"Thanks…umm," Greg scrunched his forehead in thought against his pounding head. "I…I can't remember, Nick why can't I remember?"

"Greg, you need to take it easy, alright? We'll be okay, I promise. Do you trust me?"

"What? Of course I do."

"Alright then I swear we'll get out of here. Now come on, think real hard."

"Okay…uh I think we were about to go find Nigel Crane and…I'm sorry that's all I can remember. I'm so stupid, why can't I remember?"

"Easy, bud, easy. It's okay, that's good enough. I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget me, because- come on- who could?" Nick joked and was happy when Greg released a small grin.

"Whatever, hotshot…so do you know where we are," Greg grimaced as he tried to get comfortable.

"Uh…somewhere in the basement."

"What? You mean we aren't even out of the house? Is Nigel doing this?"

"'Fraid so, buddy."

"Just great."

The room was silent for a moment before Greg broke out into a chest rattling cough. He groaned weakly as he rested his head on the wall. He was exhausted and he felt like crap; perfect timing to get kidnapped just as you're getting sick. He shivered even though he could feel sweat coating his whole body. Greg swallowed thickly as tears threatened to show, but he wouldn't let them; he didn't want Nick to think he was weak. He suddenly felt someone's arm snake around his shoulders and he gasped, his eyes snapping open. Only then did he realize it was just Nick. And he didn't even bother to ask why, because it was so comforting. He let his head rest on the Texan's shoulder and he stared straight ahead, knowing that falling asleep with a concussion- which he knew he had- was dangerous. Shivering again, he wriggled closer to Nick's side and sighed heavily.

"It'll be okay, buddy. We'll get out of here soon, I promise." Nick felt Greg nod against his shoulder and he squeezed the kid's shoulder gently.

Suddenly, they heard a loud thud followed by a creaking sound and Nick had a feeling that Nigel was returning. He pulled Greg closer to him protectively as they waited in fear.

"Nick-"

"It'll be okay, don't worry," Nick assured. To be honest, though, he wasn't sure if he could believe his own words but of course he wouldn't tell Greg that. Pessimism was the last thing that needed to be on the kid's mind. And without warning, the dim light in the dungeon-like room there were in shut off, leaving them in complete darkness.

"Son of a bitch," Nick muttered.

After what seemed like hours waiting in complete darkness and silence, the light snapped back on…but they were no longer alone. Nigel Crane was standing in front of them with a Cheshire grin on his squirrelly looking face.

"Let us go, you bastard," Greg burst out angrily.

Nick squeezed the kid's arm, telling him to shut up. He was gonna get himself killed, because he had no idea what Nigel was capable of.

"Oh I will…but not until you're dead and I have Nicky all to myself. You see, you don't deserve him; Nick's my friend and soon I'll make him realize you are nothing but a worthless piece of shit."

Nick grinded his teeth in sheer rage. He wanted so badly to punch the smug grin off this asshole, but he was afraid what Nigel might do…and not to him, but to Greg. He'd be damned if he let Nigel hurt Greg just because the stalker wanted to be alone with his idol.

"If you dare touch him-" Nick began.

"Now Nicky, don't you want to be together? We're best friends remember?" Nigel moved in closer and Nick was ready to lash out when he saw the gun behind his back.

"So, how 'bout we all cooperate? Nick, come with me; you don't want to be near that dick."

Nick felt Greg squeeze his arm fearfully. "No. I'm not leaving."

"I promise, it's not far."

"Go to hell."

Nigel squinted his eyes and looked at Nick angrily. "You will listen to me, Nicky," he began as he took out the gun…Nick's gun, and pointed it at Greg's head. "Or I will blow his brains out with your gun. Now I'm sure you wouldn't care, but even I wouldn't want to be in here with a rotting body…so choose."

After a second of hesitation, Nick agreed. "Fine," he said through clenched teeth.

"Nick, don't," Greg pleaded as Nick started to get up.

"I'm sorry G, it's for your own good."

Nigel smiled and brought Nick to the far corner of the room. Nick looked confused but as Nigel told him to sit and put his left hand to the wall, he knew what was going on. Within seconds he felt cold metal being snapped around his wrist. He was suddenly having a bad feeling about what was going to happen.

"Good, now we can start with no interruptions," Nigel smiled.

He moved over to Greg, who was pressed up against the wall with fear. Without hesitation he brought the butt of the gun down on the younger man's head, rendering him unconscious. He instantly slumped to the ground, unmoving.

Nick pulled on the shackle angrily. "Greg! I told you not to touch him you son of a bitch!"

Nigel just ignored him as he grabbed Greg's ankles and began dragging him to another hidden door. Geez this place was like a friggin' funhouse…except there's nothing fun about this.

"What are you doing? Where are you going with him?"

"I really don't want you to see this, Nicky. Hear it, yes, but I want to torture you the way you tortured me."

"Me torture you? Ha, I never touched you. You were the one who tried to hurt me."

"I never meant to do that; I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me. But you're right, you never laid a finger on me. But you hurt me…my feelings. And now I'm gonna show you what it was like for me in jail and you're gonna listen to the whole thing."

Nick's face paled as Nigel grinned evilly at him and dragged Greg into the next room, shutting the door behind them.

"Nigel! Nigel, don't touch him!" Nick pulled his arm, but only resulting in hurting his shoulder. Then everything became disturbingly quiet. He hated that it. And all of a sudden a blood-curling scream rang out through the room and his heart dropped. It was Greg.

"Please don't, plea-ahhhh!"

TBC

OOH a cliffy! Sorry, I had to end it somewhere interesting! Now I have to go finish up my other chapter for Mauled. REVIEWS!