Despite his assurances to his best friend, Nick was exhausted. As soon as he got home, he fell asleep for the entire day, waking a few hours before his shift.
As he dressed for work, Nick caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror. He winced at what he saw; a band one-inch thick around his throat that was a deep blackish-purple. Putting back the jersey he'd intended to wear, Nick instead selected a black turtleneck to wear with his jeans. At least when he was explaining the incident to Grissom, there wouldn't be a blatant visual aid hindering his attempt.
The ride into work was spent in silent preoccupation as Nick worked out how he'd tell Grissom. He didn't want anyone to make a big deal over the situation; ever since the incident with Nigel Crane, the rest of the team seemed to get more protective at any hint of danger.
Nick knew better than to complain; he was grateful his friends cared so much. But Nick wanted- needed to move on with his life, and to do that, he needed for the rest of the team to do the same.
Nick pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Heaving a deep breath, he hopped out of his truck and headed for the building.
He had taken all of two steps when suddenly a thick arm seized him around this chest, pining his arms to his sides. Nick drew a deep breath to yell when at that exact moment, a damp cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth. A dim part of Nick's mind identified the sickly odor as chloroform even as his vision swam.
Nick grunted and thrashed against his captor, but the chloroform made his movements weak, sluggish. Keys slipped from nerveless fingers as Nick finally tumbled into darkness.
The figure quickly hefted Nick's body into a fireman's carry and slipped into the shadows before he could be seen.
Barely a minute later, Greg Sanders pulled up beside Nick's truck and stepped out. As he headed for the lab, his foot connected with something on the ground.
"What the . . ." Greg bent down and scooped up Nick's discarded keys. Sharp brown eyes darted from the Texas A&M key chain to the blue truck.
"Nicky, my friend, you owe me one," he muttered, pocketing the keys. A mischievous smirk crept onto his face as he continued on. "I'll make him sweat for a bit."
Grissom poked his head into the Trace lab where Warrick was going over the results from the scrapings he'd taken from Nick earlier that day.
"Warrick, did you and Nick find anything at Jackson's apartment?" he asked.
Warrick looked up. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
Grissom nodded. "Have you seen Nick? Shift started an hour ago, and I haven't seen him."
Warrick shrugged. "His truck's here; he can't have gone far."
His face was as expressionless as ever, but Warrick could see the frustration behind Grissom's eyes. "All right. I need to see if I can track down that ink print from Mr. Jackson's thumb. If you see Nick, tell him to call me."
"Will do."
Grissom started to walk away, but popped back into the lab. "I thought you couldn't find anything at the dump site."
"Nick found a fiber," Warrick replied. "I'm comparing it with some fibers from last night."
"Anything probative?" Grissom asked.
"I'll let you know," Warrick promised.
As Grissom moved away, Warrick shook his head.
"Nicky, my man, putting it off is just going to make it worse," he muttered to himself.
Nick moaned and moved his head, wondering where he was. The last thing he could remember was pulling into the parking lot at the lab.
He tried to lift his hand to rub bleary eyes, but discovered that his hands were bound tightly behind his back. His legs, too, were wrapped in duct tape.
Memories burst forth; Nick suddenly thrashed from side to side, trying desperately to free himself. He didn't know where he was or who had kidnapped him, but his instincts told him that he needed to get away.
A door opened somewhere above him. Footsteps creaked over him, raining sawdust on him. A square section of the ceiling was lifted, illuminating Nick's cell.
He was lying in a very small, cramped dirt room not much larger than himself. It was apparently a hidden niche below some floorboards.
A beefy hand reached down and, gripping Nick by the front of his shirt, lifted him effortlessly out of the niche. The face Nick saw filled him with shock and confusion.
"H-Hey, man," Nick stuttered. "What's going on?"
Tyler Brandt swung Nick around and dropped him on the ground. Lifting a bat from the wall- Nick vaguely recognized that he was in some sort of storage shed- Brandt towered over Nick.
"What did you tell them?" he asked.
Nick tried to look at Brandt, but his eyes kept falling back onto the bat. "T-Tell who what?"
Brandt gripped the bat. "I need to know. What did you see?"
"I-I didn't s-see anything," Nick replied. "I d-don't know what you're t-talking about."
Brandt listed the bat and brought it down hard on Nick's chest. Nick yelled and curled up on his side, his eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked through, streaming down his cheeks.
"What did you tell them?" Brandt asked again.
"Nothing!" Nick wheezed.
Brandt swung the bat again. Pain exploded against Nick's hip.
"What did you tell them?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Nick howled.
The bat swung again. And again. Brandt didn't even ask his question anymore. He just swung the bat.
Nick squeezed his eyes shut and tried to last through the pain. Every swing brought another burst of pain; how much longer could he last?
Oblivion finally took pity on Nick and welcomed him with open arms.
"Where the hell is Nick?"
Heads poked into the hall as Grissom raged down the corridor, his cell in one hand and papers in the other. He came to a halt outside the DNA lab in front of Warrick.
"It's two hours till the end of shift, no one's heard from him, and he's not answering his cell," Grissom stated. "Does anyone know where he is?"
"Wherever he is, he didn't drive there," Greg spoke up.
Grissom focused his intense gaze on the lab tech. "What do you mean?"
Greg held up Nick's keys. "I found these on the ground by his car when I pulled up at the start of shift. I've been looking for him to give them back, but . . ."
Grissom gripped Greg by the arm. "Show me."
Greg stumbled a little, but kept his footing. He led Grissom from the lab to the parking lot, Warrick, Catherine, and Sara following.
"I found them right here," Greg said, stopping near his car.
Grissom frowned. "This doesn't make sense. Where could he be?"
"Do you think someone took him?" Catherine asked.
"But who?" Grissom asked. "And why?"
Warrick shifted uncomfortably. Grissom caught the movement and narrowed his eyes. "Warrick? Do you know something?"
Warrick sighed. "Look, Nick was going to tell you himself tonight."
"Well, Nick isn't here," Grissom stated.
"Last night, at the vic's apartment, we weren't alone," Warrick revealed. "Nick was attacked while processing the bathroom. By the time I got there, the perp was gone."
"Well, it couldn't've been serious, or the hospital would have called me," Grissom said.
Warrick's eyes skittered away. "Uh . . . yeah. We convinced the doctor not to. Nick insisted he was fine."
Grissom turned his back to his team, eyes staring blankly at the street.
"How serious was it?" Sara asked.
In for a penny . . . "He wasn't breathing. I had to perform CPR." Warrick looked at his supervisor. "Gris . . ."
Grissom whirled around, his normally calm eyes flashing with unbridled rage. The CSIs involuntarily took a step back in shock.
"Let me get this straight," he thundered. "You mean to tell me that Nick was seriously injured enough to warrant medical attention, but you chose not to inform me? And now he's missing?"
No one could reply; all were speechless.
"I cannot believe that one of my CSIs was abducted in plain view of a police station, and only now I'm hearing of a threat to his life!" Grissom continued.
People were starting to gather around, curious as to the commotion. None of the CSIs or Greg paid them any attention, however.
"From this moment on, we treat this like a missing person's!" Grissom commanded. "This is top priority. I want everyone working on this. Forget the other cases; there are no other cases. No one eats, sleeps, or goes home until Nick is found! Sara, get your camera, get some photos. Catherine, scout the perimeter. Look for anything that might help us. Greg, go alert Brass."
Sara, Catherine, and Greg jumped into action, racing back to the lab.
Grissom turned to Warrick. Before he could speak, Warrick interrupted.
"I shouldn't have kept this from you," he admitted.
"You're damn right you shouldn't have!" Grissom yelled. "There is a reason we follow protocol! We could have done something to prevent this!"
"I know!" Warrick yelled back. "Don't you think I know that? I'm sorry!"
"Tell that to Nick, wherever he is," Grissom replied. "Now you're going to tell me every last detail of what happened last night, and then you're going to cover every inch of this parking lot. Let's go."