Ok, so this is the first chapter that I've done both Grissom and Catherine's points of view so I hope it isn't confusing. Each one isn't very long so you kind of have to put together the observations from each person to get the whole story. Lol. Let me know if it doesn't flow as well as I'm hoping it will.

Also, I'm sure you guys are wondering how much time has passed, because I have been wondering that myself. lol. So I worked out a plausible timeline and in this chapter I figure it has been a little under 24 hours since Catherine was called to work and about 12 hours since she was kidnapped. I'm going to say that it's around 8 o'clock pm in this chapter. Alright I'll let you read now that that's all cleared up! =) Enjoy!

Chapter 14: Never Give Up

~Catherine's POV~

I rubbed my swollen wrists as I watched him walk up the stairs, not seeming the slightest bit worried that he had turned his back on me now that I wasn't bound, that was both good and bad. Good in the sense that he may underestimate me, but bad in the sense that says he's a risk taker, the consequences be damned.

As he untied me, he had pointed out the dirty toilet that was hidden beneath the stairs next to a rusty, old sink. I hadn't even noticed it before as the single light in the room hadn't reached under the stair case causing it to be masked by the dark corner.

I slowly pushed myself up from a kneeling position, with the help of the wall, as he closed the door behind him and I heard the lock click into place. My knees ached as they pushed my weight up into a standing position, but the pain dulled as soon as they were fully stretched out and a great relief over took them for finally being let up off the floor.

I walked over to the dusty corner under the stairs, and once I stood in front of the toilet I turned around and looked at the camera from my position. Relief filled me as I noticed that this corner of the room was out of its view. A small blessing, I thought to myself, at least part of my dignity would be spared.

As I washed my hands, I bent forward and splashed some water on my face, sighing as the tired haze that had filled my eyes began to clear and the throbbing in my head lessened considerably. That's when I noticed the red tinge in the water and realized that the side of my face was covered in dried blood. Softly, I began to rub it clean, massaging my temples as I did to further reduce my headache. I inhaled sharply as I gently washed out the gash on my forehead and silently prayed that the water was clean and my efforts to cleanse the wound wouldn't, in fact, make it infected.

I dried my hands on my slacks as I finished, then walked to the center of the room. When I came to a stop, I looked up at the camera and into the lens, but as quickly as I did, I looked away. I had never liked being watched, it had always unnerved me. I suppose it's a type of survival instinct everyone's born with; one that was reinforced during my time as a dancer.

As a new hire, all the older girls had warned me to be careful of the men whose eyes followed you: the more intense, the more dangerous. I learned quickly that those men were always to ones who would follow me to my car or get upset when I told them I was a dancer not a whore when they had wanted more than I offered. There were only a few times when had I actually been afraid that they wouldn't take no for an answer, but eventually they would, so I had gotten used to ignoring them and moving on, though the feeling of deep unease never lessened.

Becoming as CSI didn't lessen it either, but it did give me the confidence to stand up to it. My badge gave me a safe guard that most would think twice before crossing and that made me feel secure. But now that security had been snatched out from under me and the people that I knew would protect me were just as trapped behind that camera lens as I was trapped in this basement.

I looked up towards the door and listened as Jordan Shiler walked around above me. He was making plans, what kind of plans I had no idea, but he had a plan and when he came back so would I.

~Grissom's POV~

As she walked back into view of the camera I almost smiled, the blood was cleaned from her face and her strawberry bangs covered the majority of the gash that was on her forehead. She almost looked like herself again, but the blood stain that stuck out against the neckline of her white tank top reminded me that she was still in danger and not in the safety of the lab, if even here was safe anymore.

I watched as she looked up and towards the door, after a few minutes of just standing in the center of the room. My heart leapt as I saw her eyes flash with the defiance and spirit that I was afraid he'd taken from her, but it seemed that it was still in there and ready for a fight.

With a new purpose in her step, she walked over to the far wall and leant against it. She then proceeded to take off her heeled boots, placing them softly on the ground by her feet. She then, with one more glance towards the door, began to climb the stair case, placing her feet lightly on each step so she wouldn't interrupt the silence of the room. She would take a few steps, then look to the railing that was on the outside edge of the stairs, as if studying it, then move up another few to do the same.

"What is she doing?" Greg questioned from behind me.

I shook my head, conveying the same confusion, without taking my eyes off her as she systematically continued up the steps. About midway up the stair case, it seemed she had found what she was looking for. We all watched as she quietly lowered herself to sit on the stairs facing the railing and grasped one of the narrow, wooden support posts that were holding up the banister. I knew what she was thinking as soon as I realized that that particular post seemed crocked and not as sturdy as the others.

"She's defending herself," I answered with pride in my heart at her courage.

Greg looked at me, and then turned back to the screen to watch as she gripped the banister with one hand and the support post with the other, a quick and hard shove to the post effectively and easily broken it from the railing, causing a smile to spread on her cheeks.

As she pulled the narrow post back through the hole it had left and held it to her chest, she glanced back up at the door then carefully hurried down the steps without making a sound.

"I knew she hadn't given up yet," Nick said with a small smile as he turned to me.

"Catherine Willows doesn't know how to give up," Greg responded, also smiling.

As they spoke, the pride in my chest faded and a fear entered with twice the strength. She could easily just be making her situation more serious and only make him angry; a very probable outcome of her bravery that could easily be disastrous. But I kept my mouth shut and forced as small smile as Nick and Greg looked at me. I didn't want them to fear needlessly, because they were right, Catherine never gives up and when her mind is set there's no going back. The only thought that kept me from completely panicking was that she also never did anything halfway; she always put herself fully into everything she did, and I just hoped that this time it would be enough.

~Catherine's POV~

I tried again to relax my tense body as I sat in the wooden chair, staring ahead at the wall the camera was on. I leaned my head back, letting the wall behind the chair support it for a moment, as I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying one last time to slow my breathing as I heard his steps stop near the door. My right hand rested in my lap while my left hand dangled from the arm rest where my elbow sat and fingered the wood post that was leant up against the chair there. It was not in direct sight from the stairs on that side so I hoped he wouldn't notice it.

I tried to make my face into an expression of indifference as I fingered again the makeshift bat that was my only chance at escape. He had already made it clear that he had no intention of keeping me alive and was going to use my death for his gain, so this was probably my only chance to survive and the only chance Lindsey had of not becoming an orphan. If I didn't try this I'd never see her again, or my mother, or the team. If I didn't try this I'd never have another chance to feel Gil's arms around me and tell him how I felt. How I ached to feel as safe as I did this morning as he held me in the locker room. If this didn't work, if I wasn't strong enough I'd die alone, or worse I'd die with him.

I quickly stashed away those thoughts and the tears that had unknowingly filled my eyes into the back of my mind and concentrated on my impassive expression as I heard the lock click open.

~Grissom's POV~

She took a deep breath; I did the same, as if she was silently instructing me to do so. She was keeping me sane without even trying, though she was also the reason I needed help to stay that way. My panic was making my heart leap into my throat with every beat it took and I wasn't sure how much longer it could stay contained. She had always confuse my emotions, though only when they were concerning her, and up until recently I hadn't understood just how she had affected my very soul.

I need her, more than I ever realized. And now, I needed to find her and she needed to stay alive while I did.

My throat had become dry so I lifted a glass of water to my mouth, that's when I realized that my hand was shaking slightly; my panic was starting to break out. Behind me, I could hear Greg shifting position every few moments and Nick's knee bouncing up and down causing a slight squeak in his chair that he obviously hadn't noticed yet. Archie was the only one in the room that seemed completely still as we waited for Jordan Shiler to open the door.

I noticed Catherine's expression instantly change from one of deep thought to one of complete indifference as Shiler began to descend the stairs.

Instantly, all the noise and movement in the tech lab stopped, as if the slightest jolt of the air that hung thick in the room would cause the luck we all hoped Catherine had to slip through her fingers before she could stop it.

~Catherine's POV~

I didn't let the painful fear that was thumping in my heart and pounding against my lungs show in my face as he bent forward in front on me, his face looming over mine. His dark brown eyes were murky with lust and it disgusted me. He reached out a hand to stroke my cheek, and I quickly turned away, letting my face flash with a small sample of my revulsion.

He glared at me then jabbed a long finger at my face. "You will learn some respect," he spoke, his voice low and gruff.

He then turned around and took a step towards the camera, leaving about three feet between us, and began to address it, seemingly ignoring me. Quickly, I took my chance, grabbed the post in my left hand, and stood up, making sure not to touch the arm rests of the chair as I did because I knew they squeaked.

I saw my move as he lifted his right arm to emphasize the words that I couldn't hear and didn't care about at this point, and before I could take another breath the post was gripped in both of my hands and swinging for his exposed ribs.

Let me know how you liked it, please! =) The more reviews the quicker you get an update, (I promise this time, no more long breaks in writing. I'm gonna finish it!) but I'll need your motivation, so review! =)