Chapter Three - Under Siege
Slamming his weight into the cellar door for well over the hundredth time, Greg gave out a sigh, sliding down it into a sitting position. He dropped his head into his hands, feeling a little dizzy. It could have been from the total lack of fresh air down here or it could have been the fact that he hadn't eaten in hours now. Thanks to the little parasite inside of him, any food he attempted to eat either ended up in the toilet bowl or their tiny stomach.
"How are we gonna get out of this one, my little parasite?" He placed his hand on his stomach, sitting forwards as he saw a ray of daylight shining from somewhere. He scrambled to his feet, making his way over to the filing cabinet against the wall. The drawers were locked, but with a few pushes, he managed to move it aside, revealing the wall behind covered with cardboard and old newspapers. He quickly started peeling them away from the wall, finding a barred window behind it.
The bars were too close together for him to squeeze through, but one of the bars rattled in his hands. He turned as he heard the door unlocking, quickly trying to cover up the window, before he dove for the bed.
"Comfy?" Stuart carried a tray down the stairs, setting it on the coffee table. "Cold pizza. I know you don't like it cold, but it's all I have left at the moment."
Counting to three in his head, Greg jumped to his feet on three, giving the older man a hard shove. He toppled over the table, giving Greg some time to run up the stairs. He ran straight through the open door this time, desperately trying to find his way out of the maze of barrels. He knew they only took one turning on the way in, but it all looked so different in the dark and much bigger.
He made it to where he thought they came in, but the bay door was padlocked shut. He put his back to it while he searched for an alternate route, spotting what looked like drag marks on the floor. Letting his CSI brain kick in, he cautiously followed them through another section of barrels, covering his hand over his mouth as he found the rest of Bradley's brain scattered across the floor from the impact of the close range bullet to his head.
"He tried to run too." Stuart forcefully shoved him to the ground, watching the younger man trying to avoid the bits of brain as he rolled over. "I trusted you, Greg. I thought you were different. But you're just like, Bradley. I give you everything and you give me nothing in return." He pulled the gun out of the waistband of his jeans, pointing it at Greg.
"I am different." Greg glanced at the tower of barrels beside him, before he looked up at the gun barrel pointing down at him.
"How?"
Instead of giving him an answer, Greg kicked away the support holding the barrels beside him, sending the tower rolling into his attacker. He scrambled away before he got hit by the tumbling barrels, plugging his nostrils as one barrel burst open, washing away the splatter of Bradley's brains.
The scent was too much for him this time, kicking in his nausea. He bent to throw up, placing his hands on his knees to stop himself from toppling over.
While Stuart was still pinned, Greg quickly kicked the man's hand, snatching up the gun before he had the chance to grab it. "Because you've got no power over me." He aimed the gun at Stuart's head, trying to steady his hand. It was slippery and dripping with alcohol, but he couldn't even pull the trigger if he wanted to. His hands were too shaky and he couldn't focus on his target without thinking about his family and the consequences if he pulled the trigger.
"So pull the trigger." Stuart dared him, laughing as he tried to push away the barrel from his chest. His leg was still pinned, but he needed the room to breathe. "You can't do it, can you? You know why. It's because you still love me."
"I never loved you." Greg objected to that statement. "You were just... convenient at the time. But you were an asshole. How could I ever love someone like you? You trapped me. I hate you."
"You don't believe that." He shook his head, struggling to pull his arm out from under another barrel. "It's that new man, he's been filling your head with all this crap. He doesn't love you. If he did, he would have stayed with you. He'd be here right now saving you. But he's not, because he couldn't care less about you. I do though. You'll always be mine, Greg."
"I'm not yours!" He pulled the trigger, piercing a hole into the barrel beside Stuart's leg. "I've never been yours."
The man laughed again, dropping his head back against the dirt. "You can't kill me because you love me. And I love you too. A lot more than your other boyfriend ever will. I'll kill him before I let you go. You'll always be mine. I'll kill Nick for you. That'll prove to you how much I love you."
"That won't prove anything. Just that you're a sick son of a bitch."
"How do you know I didn't already? Nick could be dead right now... and you'd never even know it." He glanced round at Greg, watching the younger man slowly lowering the gun to his side. He lunged to his feet as soon as he did, pushing the younger man back against another shelving unit. He held him by the throat, seizing hold of his gun holding arm at his side. "I'll never let him have you again."
Greg managed to lift his leg, kicking the older man in the knee to free his throat from his grasp. He choked through his dry throat for a moment, sinking down the shelves to sit on the floor. "You have no idea what it means to love someone. You don't even understand the concept of loving someone. You only understand pain."
"Is that what you think?" Stuart knelt down to his level, pointing the gun to the side of his head. "You still think I don't love you."
"I know you don't." The younger man burst into a grin, shaking his head at him. "You don't beat up, attack, kidnap or tie up someone you love. You would do anything you can to protect that person. You'd never hit that person if they really meant anything to you. You have no idea what love is. You telling me that you love me now is the biggest joke I've ever heard. I know now that you've never been capable of it."
"The real joke is you thinking that you could actually get out of here." Stuart lunged closer, forcing the gun into the side of his head. He could feel the sharp edge of the barrel pressing into his skull, but he was too afraid to move this time. "We're miles from anything. The desert will kill you before you even make it back to civilisation."
"I'll take my chances. Anything has got to be better than being stuck here with a psycho!" Greg shouted, feeling himself shaking with the barrel of the gun directed at his brain. "So if you're going to kill me, just get it over with. Honestly, I'd rather be dead then spend one more moment with you!" He stared him down as he gasped for breath, hoping his pure terror wasn't that obvious to the man in front of him.
"Unless you wonna be buried alive out here," Smashing the butt of the gun against Greg's head, Stuart took a step back as the man collapsed to the floor, pocketing the gun while he was out. "I suggest you co-operate."
Lifting the younger man from the floor, Stuart struggled to carry him back to the cellar, using the restraints to tie him to the bed this time. He took a step back to rub his sore limbs, taking a seat on the sofa to examine the swollen purplish area on his leg. Every part of him ached, prompting the need for a cigarette, but the packet he pulled out of his pocket had been soaked through from the spilt barrel.
Stuart crumpled the packet in his hand, tossing it aside. He pushed himself to his feet, checking the restraints around Greg's wrists and ankles. He grabbed the younger man's chin, turning his head to the side to check on the cut where the blood was coming from. He realised he had hit him pretty hard with the edge of the gun, but he still had a steady pulse.
Giving out a sigh, the man made his way towards the stairs, glancing back at him before he closed the door. He applied the double lock to the cellar door, making his way out to pick himself up some pain killers for his own injuries and some more cigarettes.
"Alright thanks. Brass says it's a left up here." Catherine set her radio on the dashboard, adjusting the sun visor above her. She glanced round at Nick in the passenger seat, sensing he was giving up from the look on his face. It had been a long drive, making it harder for him to wait and see the man he loved again. "Hey, we'll find him. This is Greg we're talking about. He's probably talking this guys ear off."
"That's what I'm worried about." Nick tilted his head back, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand. "Greg has a way of gettin' under your skin. Before we were datin', he just used to get on my nerves all the time. He was my friend, but he was just kinda annoyin', you know. The teasin', temptin'... I just wanted him to leave me alone." He glanced round at her. "It's part of what I love about him now, but eight months ago, I just wanted to thump him every time he tried to rattle me. He pissed me off so much once that I shoved him up against the locker and he retaliated by kissin' me. He completely caught me off guard, but it was the best first kiss I've ever had."
Catherine gave him a smile, adjusting the sun visor once again. "God I really hate driving in the day time now. I forgot my sunglasses."
"Left." Nick pointed out the turning to her, holding the door beside him tightly as she took the turning a little fast. "Bustin' me out of jail, now reckless drivin'. You're rackin' up one hell of a crime spree today, Catherine."
"I don't have time for rules today. And you're forgetting disobeying direct orders from the lab director. Ecklie was determined to pin this whole thing on you. He wasn't even prepared to listen to any of the evidence. If it were left up to him, we wouldn't even have this lead right now."
"But you figured it out?"
"I wish." The woman smirked, shaking her head. "It was Grissom. His nose figured it out. I was so worried about finding Greg that I ignored potential details. Grissom had the file for less than an hour and he figured out where the primary crime scene was."
"This guy, Bradley," Nick was starting to wish she had never told him about the other man, but it was too late now. He knew about the brutal murder of Stuart's ex boyfriend, planting all sorts of images in his mind about what he was doing to Greg right now. "You said he went missin' eight months back. How did he die?"
"You really don't need to hear..."
"How?" The man insisted. "He's taken the love of my life into the middle of nowhere. I need to know."
"Gun shot to the head. Close range." Catherine spoke softly, glancing round at Nick to see if he was okay. "We believe that Stuart held him captive for over eight months though. Doc Robbins said that there were signs of old bruises, broken bones... restraint marks around his wrists and ankles. Greg's only been gone a few hours."
"Seven." Nick glanced at the clock in the dashboard. "He's been gone for seven hours. You know as well as I do that once someone gets a taste for blood and gets away with it, they're completely capable of doin' it again."
"Catherine, you there." The radio crackled to life on the dashboard.
"I'm here." She grabbed hold of it. "I can't see anything out here, Jim. How much further is it?"
"We're just pulling up outside the warehouse now. Keep going straight, you can't miss it."
"There." Nick pointed out the flicker of light in the distance. He leant forwards in his seat, holding his seatbelt tightly as they got closer and closer, until he could see one of the deputies squad cars. He practically jumped out of the car as Catherine pulled up, running for the entrance of the warehouse. It was locked up tight, but he barely got a look at it before Brass was pulling him aside.
"If we're going to do this, let's do it the right way. You stay in the car. The suspect might be still inside. We'll sweep and clear the building, before we let CSI in. But you have to stay back." He warned him, receiving an anxious nod from the man.
It was hard to stay back, but he turned back for the cars, staying put by one of the deputies squad cars as he watched them breaching the bay door. He leant forwards as the door slid open, taking a few steps closer to try and see inside. The only light inside was the flash light in each of the deputies hands, so it was hard to see anything.
"Don't even think about it." Catherine slid her hand into Nick's, holding him back and keeping him company. "There's no car outside." She pointed out to him, watching the deputies searching the building herself. "We might have gotten it wrong."
"He's here, I can feel it." Nick squeezed her hand tightly, trying to keep himself still, rather than running inside to find him for himself. He glanced at Catherine as her radio crackled, watching her retrieving it from her side. They gave her a brief update, before they went radio silent again. It took them a few extra minutes to clear the whole building, before her radio crackled to life once again.
"All clear Catherine, c'mon in." Jim Brass reported.
"Okay, my turn." Catherine hooked the radio to her belt, lifting her kit from the floor. "I'll let you know as soon as I find something." She assured the man beside her, making sure he stayed put, before she made her way inside. She clicked on her flash light at the door, looking around at the endless lines of barrels in front of her, before she turned her attention towards some drag marks in the dirt. She followed the trail for a while, finding two separate foot prints that looked pretty fresh and they didn't look like the deputies boot prints. She examined the dusty shelves, before she stumbled upon a collapsed tower of barrels down one of the aisles.
"Ms Willows," A deputy called out to her, pointing his flash light down towards the blood. "There's more back there. And the Captain said to tell you there's a locked door in the back."
"Okay, give me a second." Catherine photographed the scene in front of her, pulling a swab out of her vest pocket. She ran it across the blood on the floor, spying something else as she bent down. "God I hope that's not Greg's." She tweezed what she thought was a piece of skull, gulping hard as she bagged it up for evidence. She photographed the trail to the fresher set of blood, taking another swab out of her vest, before she joined the Captain by the locked door.
"Double bolted." She examined the door, giving out a soft sigh.
"A deputy's gone back to the car for a set of bolt cutters." He assured her, picking up his radio to check on the status of the bolt cutters. "Metcalfe, are you on your way back?" He waited for a response, but there was no reply. "Deputy Metcalfe, what's your status? Over." He signalled towards a deputy beside him to follow him, leaving Catherine stood by the door, while they quickly made their back through the long narrow corridor of the warehouse.
"Gun Shot." The deputy pulled his weapon, training it on the suspect. "Officer down."
"Drop your weapon." Captain Brass ordered, spotting his missing Deputy Metcalfe on the ground, wearing a bullet in his shoulder. He kept his gun aimed at their suspect, searching the area for Nick, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Telesco. Stuart Telesco, weapon down." He barked another order at the man. "Now."
"Not until I see, Nick." Stuart shook his head, glancing towards the car he had ducked behind after he fired at the deputy. "C'mon out, Nick. That bullet was meant for you!" He called in his direction, keeping his gun on the Captain in front. "I promised I was gonna kill you. I'll be doing Greg a favour."
"Don't do it." Brass caught sight of the young CSI knelt beside the car. "Stay there, Nick."
"C'mon, Nick." Stuart called him out. "Don't be such a coward. You told me once that you were going to put me in a body bag if I ever went near Greg again. Gotta say I'm not impressed. I could have slit his throat, dumped his body somewhere out here in the desert and you're just sitting there, cowering behind a car. Is that how you defend your boyfriend's honour?" He took a slight step to the right, keeping his arm pointed out towards Brass, while he tried to spy where Nick had hidden. "I blew your boyfriend's brains out and you're not even going to defend his honour? Is that what kind of man you are?"
Tilting his head back against the car, Nick closed his eyes, hoping at this point it was just a ploy to get him out from behind the car. Slitting his throat, blowing his brains out, burying him out in the middle of nowhere, it had to be a trick. Greg didn't deserve any of that. He inhaled a few deep breaths, before he crawled towards the front end of the car on his hands and knees. He knew he shouldn't, but he had to do something.
If only to distract the suspect away from Brass for just a moment, he thought it would be worth it.
Inhaling a few deeps breath, Nick pushed himself to his feet in one sweep, facing the man with the gun.
Stuart smiled widely, swinging his arm away from the Captain and the deputy, ready to put a bullet in the other man's skull. "Finally." He grinned. "This is for taking Greg away from me."
"No, Nick!" Brass squeezed the trigger of his gun a few times.
Stuart pulled at the same time, making him more concerned over the CSI's safety than whether he hit his target or not.
Nick hit the dust first.
The suspect took two to the chest, leaving the third bullet to shatter his skull.
Deputy Warner hurried over to the suspect with his gun trained on him, kicking the gun away from his hand. "He's down." He gave his Captain a nod, getting straight on the radio to call in an ambulance for Metcalfe.
"Nick... Nick..." Captain Brass hurried round the car, giving out a sigh of relief as the man had just taken a dive when the bullets started flying. "Don't you ever do that again." He gave him a warning, reaching his hand out to him to help him to his feet. "Next time when I say stay down, I mean it." He holstered his weapon, giving out a sigh as he checked that their suspect was still down. "Catherine needs bolt cutters. I'll stay with Metcalfe."
Quickly making his way to the back of the car, Nick retrieved the bolt cutters from inside, making his way into the eerie looking building. He felt his heart pounding as he looked up at the high ceiling, cautiously making his way through the cramped space towards the flash lights at the end.
"Hey, Brass just called with the all clear." Catherine hooked her radio back onto her belt, reaching out for Nick's arms. "Are you okay? I heard gun shots." He looked a little shell shocked, but his determination to find Greg kept him going. "Do you want to do the honours?" She noticed the bolt cutters in his hand. "I dusted it for prints already."
"I don't... think I should." Nick took a step away from the door, fearing what he might find. He clutched the bolt cutters tightly in his hand, anxiously biting his bottom lip for a moment, before he took a step towards the door. He sniffed back his tears threatening to spill, steadying his hands as he took the cutters to the first bolt. It was quite rusty, but after a few attempts he managed to break the lock. He quickly cut open the second one, lifting away the broken lock to pull the door open.
Handing the bolt cutters over to Catherine, Nick cautiously made his way down the steps, dropping his jaw at the sight of his boyfriend on the rusty looking bed. He froze as he saw the restraints around his arms and legs, having flash backs of his own time being held against his will. He cautiously stepped down the last few steps, watching his footing as he made his way to the younger man's side. He didn't want to touch him if he was dead, but there was still colour in his cheeks. He shakily reached his hand out for his throat, avoiding the sore redness patch to find a pulse.
"Nick?" Catherine spoke softly from the bottom of the stairs.
"He has a pulse." He called out to her, running his fingers down the younger man's arm. He quickly unfastened the straps around his wrists, going for the ones around his ankles as the woman joined him in the cellar. "Greg. Greg, c'mon baby." Nick brushed his thumb across the blood on the side of his partner's head, inspecting the wound. The blood was almost dry, but the wound looked painful. He smiled as he caught his eyes slowly fluttering open, reminding him of all the mornings he woke up beside the beautiful man. "You're safe now, G. It's Nick. I'm gonna get you out of here."
"I'll let Brass know we need a second ambulance." Catherine grabbed her walkie, quickly calling it in.
Greg blinked his eyes open and shut a few times, feeling his heart pounding as he tried to focus on the man above him. "Hi." He croaked through his sore, dry throat.
"Hi." Nick smiled back at him. "You're safe now, G."
"Did I miss it?" He spoke softly, feeling as though he had been hit by a truck.
"Miss what?" His boyfriend gave him a confused look.
"Baby . . . Sadie's birthday."
"It's still technically the second of March." Catherine reported from beside him, giving him a smile as he looked towards her. "So you didn't miss it. C'mon, let's get out of here. Are you alright to move?"
"I got him." Sliding his arm beneath Greg, the Texan assisted him to his feet, letting him lean against him as he helped him up the stairs. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"Dizzy." Greg held onto his shoulders.
"Hold on." Nick stopped at the top of the stairs, bending down to hook his arm beneath his partner's legs. He swept him up into his arms with one clean sweep, carefully carrying him through the long lines of barrels towards the fading daylight outside. It felt a lot colder out there then it did just a few minutes ago, but he had Greg back safely in his arms, making him feel warm inside as though nothing could tear them apart after the day they had.
Happy Valentines Day! Sorry about the delay, it took me a while to get the chapter just how I wanted it. Thank you for your favouriting, following and private messages. They are much appreciated. Hopefully I will have the next chapter ready by next weekend, it depends how busy I am. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
~ Holly