A/N:…It has been a long time since I've updated. I think I technically went on hiatus… here's another chapter. I have no set schedule of when i will finish this thing, but i do have the next two chapters written, just putting the final touches. If you are still reading this story, i would like to thank you for your patience. I would also like to thank whoever decided to follow my story last, i sort of forgot about it and they got me to look at it again. :)

Clouds drifted unceremoniously across the night sky as a lonely pickup drove on the long road. Rain attacked them like bullets as wind rocked the pickup unsteadily. Yoder had a tight grip on the wheel and a fascinated gleam in his eye. He always admired nature. It could do whatever it wanted, and people had to just get through it and then pick up the pieces afterwards. It was something he also strived to do himself, but he knew better. He had his own set of rules he had to follow. That's what kept him from being caught all these years. Rule #1: get a respectful job immediately. Rule #2: Always choose people who aren't already in the public's eye. Rule #3: patience. Do not go on a spree, stick to a schedule. Rule #4: always clean up afterwards. Rule #5: leave the city once the heat gets too great. Rule #6: always follow the rules.

He looked over at his silent hitchhiker who was also staring at the raging storm. He hadn't spoken since the death of Charles Whitman; he didn't eat or drink, just followed Yoder's instructions to a T and looked out into nothing when he wasn't. Something kept coming up in his mind though. He was curious what that woman had said to him. What promise did Greg have to keep?

"What did you promise her?" Yoder finally asked. Greg didn't respond and remained looking out his window. He was picking at the handcuffs around his wrists. Yoder asked again but got nothing.

"Are you still moping about that fat old man? It was just one person Greg: a blimp on the human population. If anything, you are probably helping. There are too many people in this world as it is. Just think of us as cleaners." Yoder said with a smile. Greg leaned his head against the window. Yoder was getting frustrated. Being in his company for so long must have made his fear dwindle. He was losing control on this man and now was the perfect time to reestablish it. Yoder pulled over to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks. He left the warm dry truck to the pinching cold and rain pellets. He walked around to Greg's window, who had finally looked over to see what was going on. Yoder yanked open the door and thrust Greg out onto the muddy ground.

Yoder walked over to him and straddled his torso.

"I don't know if you have forgotten, but you are still under my control. If I ask you a question I expect you to answer." Yoder yelled, trying to be heard over the slamming of the rain. Greg looked up at him and furrowed his brow. His heart was racing, and he was sore everywhere but one thing had become suddenly clear. He put his handcuffed wrists into a fist and slammed them against Yoder's chest. Yoder sprawled out beside him as Greg raised himself to stand over him.

"You may control my actions but you will NEVER control me. I don't fear you anymore because I know the truth. You think you chose to become a killer but the truth is you're addicted because it's hardwired into your DNA. You are not in control of yourself!" Greg's legs were shaking as he said this but he had never been surer of himself as then. Yoder looked up at him quizzically then stood up hatred emanating from him like an invisible weapon.

"Let me tell you something Mr. Sanders. The world fears me. I've killed hundreds of people, most of them more imposing than you. You think one puny CSI's opinion will change anything? That you've explained my problem and now I can go about trying to get fixed. I know who I am and what I am is a serial killer. I get what I want and do what I want. You may not care for your own safety, but I know of an entire team back in Vegas just waiting to take a bullet for you. Do you want to continue with that speech Mr. Sanders? Or will you get back in the truck and do as I say?" Yoder and Greg glared at each other, waiting for the other to back down. Greg finally looked down when the helpless feeling of watching Nick in harm's way because of him came to mind. He walked over to the passenger side and got in, slamming the door. Yoder smirked and joined him inside.

"That's what I thought," He said and continued on the road to the next safe house.

A couple hours later they pull into the same looking garage as always. Yoder had shoved Greg on the floor as they got closer like usual. He helped him out of the truck and escorted him to the side door. Greg started looking around when he noticed something interesting reflecting in a mirror across the room. He smiled to himself and followed Yoder into the house and to his room. Yoder opened the closet and began rifling through the dresser. He looks over to Greg and chuckles.

"You can't be any bigger than a size 3. I might have to get you a shirt from the women's side."

Greg just looked away. He's been teased about his size since the 6th grade one more snide comment wasn't going to make a difference. Yoder threw the clothes onto the bed.

"Get changed. I don't want you getting sick before I can finish my plan." Greg looked at his handcuffs, now attached to the bed.

"How do you expect me to do that?"

"You're a smart guy right? Figure it out." He walked away and closed the door. Greg looked over disheartened. Great he thought.

When Yoder returned, refreshed from a long shower, Greg had been able to switch pants but had decided to not even try to change his shirt. Yoder knew this would happen, and had brought the handcuff keys with him. Greg took this as his chance. As soon as Yoder undid the cuffs, he punched Yoder as hard as he could in the face and took off. He counted the seconds it took to get from the room to the garage and then to type in the code. Yoder was taken by surprise but quickly got over it and ran after him. Just as Greg was typing in random number into the lock, Yoder had pulled him away and slammed him into the wall.

"Didn't we just go over this?" asked Yoder angrily. Greg just smiled.

"Can't blame a guy for tryin'," said Greg. Yoder dragged him back into the room and tied his hands to the post.

"Apparently you still don't understand. You are stuck with me and if you want to make it through with as little scratches as possible, you have to follow my orders." Yoder turned his back on him and opened the cabinet on the other side of the room. "Otherwise, you force me to use disciplinary action." Yoder turned around with a torch and hammer in his hands. "A little roast and crushing to blow off some steam sounds appealing right now." Greg though shaking and scared out of his mind, became more determined.

"Bring it." He said through gritted teeth. Yoder walked over and bound his feet then took off his socks and shoes.

"Feel free to scream all you want. It soothes me." Yoder stated. Yoder took the torch and turned it on. He put it up to Greg's left foot and immediately saw a change in his color. Greg became pale, while his foot became bright red. He thrust his head back, ready to yell, and squinted his eyes to see the terrible grin on the other man's face. The pain was unthinkable; it rippled through him like nails pounding into his muscles. He tensed everywhere, bucked his feet to get away, but it was a lost cause. He wanted to scream but bit his lips to keep from opening them. He was not going to give him the satisfaction. Finally, what seemed like a lifetime, Yoder pulled it away, seeming satisfied with his work. Then he picked up the hammer. Greg breathed in deeply, trying to withhold his body from going into shock. He finally opened his eyes to notice Yoder pulling out a secret platform from the nightstand. He untied one of Greg's hands and zip tied it to the table with a little hole on the side.

"I believe it was this hand that bruised my face. An eye for an eye, so to speak. You may not want to see this. This was one of my favorites back in the day. So many men, so many broken fingers. But I think I will enjoy this one most of all."

Yoder raised the hammer and brought it down on Greg's right index finger. Involuntarily, he jumped back, both from the startling noise and from the pain. Immediately a bolt of lightning blasted his nerves throughout his entire arm. It reverberated across his chest and to his head giving him an instant migraine. His hand was pulsing as it tried to adjust to the sudden traumatizing attack. He hadn't realized he was squinting until he felt another blast of pain in his right middle finger. Another burst of lightning, intensifying the remains of the last one. Greg's eyes began to water and he could feel a pool collecting on the side. But he refused to show them to Yoder. He concentrated, tilted his head back and blinked back the tears. Then he felt another blast to his right pointer finger and couldn't stop the tears from flowing now. Yoder finally tossed the hammer aside and looked at the damage he caused on his hand.

"Was it worth it Greg? Was the pain worth it? Because I have no problem keeping this little charade up. You can keep trying to escape, and I'll keep breaking bones until you've had enough." Yoder was leaning down next to his face fully enthused with the pain written all over. Greg couldn't even bring himself to talk; his body was concentrating all its energy on trying to heal his hand. Yoder just smirked and got up, ruffling Greg's hair as he left and slammed the door. Greg sat there on his bed-sobbing in a silent room.

well I got my wisdom teeth pulled out so I had some free time and a lot of pent up aggression from the pain so ergo torture scene with Greg. FYI, that thing Greg saw in the garage will come in handy next chapter. If there are any inconsistencies just let me know. Thank you for your patience :)