I'm glad everyone is enjoying thus far. Thanks to my reviewers, Me, Aurora, NamarieGreenleaf, Rae132, Sillie, yellowvalley, CSIcowboy (great handle BTW), deathchamberX17, white rose01, Kayma, Bree1387, Zoe, Rozzy07, red-raccoon and robinyj.
Sillie – I liked that line too, it's so hard to capture Greg's character in general that just getting one line right seems to be a feat and thanks for reviewing when I know you probably read this at Greg Angst anyway.
Rae132 – I was having a little trouble with MSN so it took me a few tries to get this up at GSAF, so there was a bit of delay, but I would not hold out on the group with the Greg angst.
Anyway, I own nothing but my dreams and they can't take that away from me! So, here's the next chapter of …
Painful Journeys
By Goody
Greg dreamed he was on a rollercoaster. It had been fun at first, going up and down on the loops, the cart bouncing hard over the tracks, the sun beating down fiercely. But he had stayed on too long. The ride kept going, the tracks kept bumping and his head pounded, blood rushing to his brain as he was flipped upside down, face burning as the sun beat down on the tracks, limbs aching as the cart shuddered and shook. He wanted off, but he was strapped in and the ride wouldn't end. It just kept going, and going until …
He gasped, opening his eyes. He was panting hard, half from the dream and half from the stifling air in the trunk.
What the hell …
There was no light that he could see and his head throbbed. He closed his eyes tightly and sunk his face into the rank carpeting, trying to force the pain from his head but it would not relent; it just kept pulsating through his skull like a nail gun going off. He tried to bring up his hands to clutch his temples and panicked when they would not move. Shifting and struggling he could tell he was handcuffed, not tightly but enough that he could not slip through. The bumping and movement confirmed he was in a trunk and from the lack of outside noise not on a very busy street. It must have been the highway or the desert.
His breathing became even heavier as he began to panic, not understanding what was going on. What had happened? He couldn't remember. He and Nick had been on their way to the game, almost to the car. A man walked by and looked at him strangely. He heard Nick call out some insult but before he could reply pain had erupted in his head and then darkness.
Nick!
What had happened to the CSI? Better yet, what had happened to him? He had no idea who would attack him like this and deep down he prayed it was some sort of sick joke, though he doubted it. Needing to know what was going on Greg followed his first impulse and yelled and kicked at the hood of the trunk, demanding answers and not considering the possible consequences of his actions.
They had been driving for nearly an hour. Nick had plied Crane with questions about where they were going but always Nigel denied him an answer, sometimes he said 'far' other times he just smiled and was silent, so still Nick had no idea what to expect ahead. That was not to say that Crane did not talk, he did, frequently. He asked Nick about work, women, sports, TV, he wanted to know everything about his life even where he bought his shirts. The one thing he did not care about though was Nick's other friends. If he even mentioned Greg or Warrick or Sara Nigel would quickly change the topic, pelting him with more questions, not wanting to hear about those he considered competition for Nick's friendship.
Nick wanted to keep him happy, which he hoped would keep him less violent, but was so frustrated, angry and scared for Greg and himself that his answers came out curt and annoyed most of the time. Nigel didn't seem to care, he had Nick all to himself, it was just like two best friends on an old fashioned road trip, talking and laughing. It was all he ever wanted. But just as he was about to ask Nick his favourite ice cream his fantasy was suddenly dissolved by a loud banging from behind and a muffled voice.
"Hey, what the hell is going on? Let me out of here!" Greg yelled from the trunk, surprising both men in the front.
"Shut up Gregory, we aren't there yet," Nigel called back sternly, flinching with irritation.
"Who the hell are you?" Greg demanded, his voice surprisingly steady. He was scared but he could not see his kidnapper or know the true extent of the danger he was in, making his discomfort and anger able to win out over his fear, causing his defiance.
"Nick, shut him up," Crane hissed, becoming more upset.
Nick knew Nigel could snap easily if he got upset and tried to make him happy, he just prayed Greg would listen, "Greg, it's Nick, you have to be quiet, okay? Nigel Crane is here …"
"Your stalker?" Greg asked, his fear gripping tighter at the revelation that he was being kidnapped by a stalker/murderer. Despite this though he was very relieved to hear Nick's voice, strong and in control; his calm was a comforting reassurance.
"You talk about me, I like that," Crane smiled with satisfaction.
Nick ignored him, more worried about keeping Greg safe, "He's got a gun. I don't know where we're going but just sit tight and be quiet, it'll be all right."
There was a pause and Nick thought Greg had complied, but then his voice returned, still loud but shaky, "Are you okay?"
Nick didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the question. Greg was in the trunk with a head injury and Nick was driving, safe and sound, but it was Greg to first show his concern. Nick wanted to talk to him longer, assure him things would be fine, ask if he was all right in return, but he could see Nigel was turning red from frustration and he had to shut Greg up.
"I'm fine man, just do what he says. Be quiet," he repeated forcefully, making sure Greg understood completely.
Greg did understand. He whispered a soft 'Okay' that only he could hear and then turned on his side, trying to get comfortable for what he thought could be a long trip. Crane immediately relaxed, seemingly very pleased that Nick would do whatever he asked.
"Much better. What about actors, I know you like action movies …" Crane continued, not concerned in the least for Greg's safety or comfort now that he was quiet. It seemed Nick could write a biography the length of the bible and it wouldn't be enough for him. Nick on the other hand was very concerned for his friend but could not voice these thoughts. Instead he decided he would keep talking to Crane, keep him happy, and with any luck, come up with a way to stop the bastard eventually, before he hurt anyone else.
The car continued down the road for some time but for Greg the world began to blend together. He could hear Nick and Crane talking in the front. Nigel's voice was bright and enquiring while Nick's responses were short and muffled, clearly not nearly as enthusiastic. Greg tried to listen for awhile if only to keep his mind off the pounding in his head and the sweltering heat he was trapped in. He lived in Las Vegas so he could handle a little sweat, but the trunk was solid, there was no inkling of a breeze from any cracks or through the hood, and as the black car continued down the long stretch of highway, with the hot Nevada sun beaming down on it, the temperature in the trunk continued to rise and rise.
In the front Nick and Crane had their windows rolled down and both still sweated badly. Nick had even mumbled under his breath at one point, "Couldn't steal a car with air conditioning?"
Nigel had turned to him, asking, "What?"
Nick plastered on a fake smile, "Nice car." He beamed and Nigel nodded in agreement. As soon as Crane turned back to look out the window, Nick turned to look in the backseat, straining to hear any sounds from Greg, but the lab tech was true to his word and didn't say anything. Nick almost wished he hadn't shut up as instructed, he longed to hear his voice if only to know he was all right.
Just then Crane opened up the glove compartment and took out two bottles of water, holding one out to Nick, "Thirsty? It's your favourite brand."
"No," Nick replied, beyond angry and completely unable to believe this man. He was kidnapping him and his best friend, all in pursuit of some kind of forced upon friendship. Essentially, he would be killed if he didn't play along, and yet he was worried about his comfort and offering him water. Trying to figure out Crane's reasoning was giving Nick a headache.
But the former cable man just shrugged at his refusal and opened his own bottle. Nick turned around to listen for Greg again, unsure if he heard him breathing deeply or if it was just the car. But this time Crane noticed and did not appreciate the lab rat taking away Nick's attention for any amount of time.
"Stop turning around, he's fine. This is our time. Even if he's not okay it doesn't matter," Crane grumbled. These words did not settle well with Nick, but he said nothing, not wanting to draw the madman's wrath any more.
Nearly a half an hour passed and Greg tried to stay calm, he took short breaths and still didn't talk, but the air kept getting thinner and thinner. There was no circulation in the small space, no fresh air, and the little oxygen he did have was so heavy with humidity he could barely breathe it in. He was starting to panic, panting now, and taking in large, gasping breaths that did little to appease his starving lungs or bring down his body's temperature. He knew he was close to unconsciousness, and if he passed out, and they kept driving for much longer, then he would most certainly die. He needed to call out, to kick open the trunk, do something to save himself before he lost all ability of coherent thought. He had promised Nick he would be quiet, but he knew his silence could kill him and he wanted to live. Decision made, he took in several more deep, heaving breaths and hoped he wasn't about to get himself or Nick killed.
Nigel turned to Nick for what seemed the millionth time, gun still held steady, "What about your family? Tell me about your sisters."
"Not much to tell, I'm betting you already know they're names." Crane nodded. Nick gritted his teeth; Crane had hit a nerve bringing up his family, he hated that this man knew so much about his life and all that he cared about, and he was being forced to tell him even more, "Well, the youngest is …"
Nick was cut off by another banging from the trunk, this one weaker than before. Then Greg's voice called out, dry and strained, "Nick … I can't breathe … I'm sorry, I can't … breathe …"
"Greg, just hold on!" Nick turned to Crane, "Let him out, it must be twice as hot back there as in here."
Crane tightened his grip on the gun, "No."
"He'll die back there," Nick pointed out. Nigel only shrugged, indifferent to the idea.
Nick clutched the steering wheel tightly, turning his own knuckles white, and asked through clenched teeth, "How much further do we have to go?"
"Far," Crane replied, smiling, showing no concern whatsoever even though they could now clearly hear Greg's laboured, desperate breathing in the back. There was another kick against the seat, this one much weaker than the last, but Greg could not find the strength to call out again.
In his mind Nick saw two choices, let Greg suffocate in the trunk, or take action and risk both their lives. He knew he only had one real option and took matters into his own hands. Without warning he pulled the car to the side of the road and put on the brakes. Nigel was immediately outraged, surprised and unsure. This was not part of his plan, it was unexpected. He held the gun on Nick, very willing to shoot him for being out of line.
"What are you doing?!" Crane demanded, now unsteady.
Nick put the car in park and turned to Crane, trying to hide his anger and appeal to any morals the psychopath may have hidden deep inside.
"Look, I don't think you dragged him along just to accidentally kill him on the ride. We haven't seen another car for twenty minutes, just let me go see him and give him some water," Nick pleaded.
Crane was off balance, Nick had surprised him, so he was forced to follow his automatic response, and a reluctant, 'fine' passed his lips. He would allow Nick to see his undeserving little friend until he had time to regroup himself.
Nick was gone in a flash. He grabbed the water he had been offered earlier, pulled out the keys and moved to the trunk of the car.
"Greg? Can you hear me?" he asked. He put a hand on the trunk's surface and was nearly burned; his concern piqued as he imagined how hot it must actually be in there, and what condition Greg was probably in. As he slid the key into the lock, he heard no response from Greg except for the continued harsh breathing. He opened the lid and stepped back at first, letting the fresh air get in. Greg shied away from the light but gasped like he was drowning as the cool oxygen hit his lungs. At first he was overwhelmed and began coughing harshly, the feeling rough against his dry throat, but eventually he grew accustomed to the air and began to breathe easier.
"Oh god, Nick?" he mumbled as the fresh air helped clear his head.
Nick moved in when his breathing had improved and helped pull the younger man into a sitting position, "Just breathe, Greggo, deep breaths, it'll be all right."
Greg looked ragged. His hair was matted down with sweat, so much so that the blood on his temple had not dried but remained a sticky, flowing red. It took a few deep breaths but eventually his breathing returned somewhat to normal.
"Hey man, drink this," Nick instructed, leaning Greg against his chest as he opened the water bottle and brought it to his lips. Greg tried to drink it all but Nick only allowed him small sips, knowing the last thing he needed was for him to get sick by drinking too fast. When half the bottle was gone he poured some over Greg's head, trying to cool him down.
"God Greg, I'm so sorry about all of this. Are you okay? How's the head?" Nick asked quickly, not knowing how long Crane would give him.
Greg nodded, still gasping slightly, "I'm all right, I think, just … confused. How about you?"
"I'm fine, I don't think he wants to hurt me," Nick whispered, his eyes frantically moving between Greg and Crane's door which had yet to open.
Greg looked slightly relieved but also very scared, "Nick, I don't get it … this, this is insane! What the hell does he want?"
"I think, for me to be his friend."
Greg had guessed that but it didn't explain one thing, "And me?"
Nick shook his head, "I don't know, but I'm so sorry you got involved; no way should you be here man, it's not right."
"Don't, I'd rather be here than have you stuck with this guy alone. Do we … do we have a plan?" Greg asked, still very quiet, but also completely unsure of what kind of action this situation called for.
Nick shrugged, hating to disappoint him but he had no ideas at the moment, "For now, stay alive."
Greg nodded sombrely, understanding and taking some more water from Nick. There was another short pause, and then quieter, he asked, "Is he going to kill us?"
In Greg's mind all the case files he had ever read and the pictures of past victims returned to him, all horrible and terrifying and not how he wanted to end up.
"I don't know," Nick admitted softly.
"That's why it's so fun, the ending's a surprise." Crane came around the car, gun still at the ready, fully composed once more. "All right, you've seen him, he's fine. Get back in the car."
Greg shuddered, not accustomed to being threatened at gunpoint. Nick, as was his style, was holding up slightly better under the pressure and felt confident enough to try and make a few more conditions with Nigel.
"Let him sit in the back, no one's going to see him out here," Nick said, trying to reason with him.
"No," Crane said, his smile again switching to irritation.
"Why the hell not?" Nick demanded, his anger overwhelming now.
"Don't Nick," Greg pleaded quietly, not wanting Nick to get hurt over him. He could survive the trunk a little longer if it would keep them both alive.
Suddenly Crane took a dangerous step forward, the safety of the gun clicking off once more, but it did not turn to Nick, instead the barrel was placed inches from Greg's temple. Greg's breathing hitched and he tried to turn away but there was nowhere to go.
Nick's fury was immediately wiped away to be replaced by cold fear as Crane clearly flipped over from friendly to psychotic, threatening Greg's life.
"This is our trip! You're my friend, this is our time! He's a distraction, he keeps you from caring about anyone else, and I won't allow it!" Crane's expression turned darker and Nick leapt at him when he saw his arm began to move, but instead of firing, Nigel brought the butt of the gun down hard against the side of Greg's face. The young man grunted as he fell back and his head struck the metal siding hard before he hit the trunk floor, once again unconscious.
"Bastard, don't touch him!"
Even though he had not shot Greg, Nick continued his lunge at Crane, tackling him to the ground. They fought for the gun, rolling on and off the road, kicking up clouds of dust. Nick thought he would have had the strength advantage but Crane had put on some muscle since he went to prison and they were almost evenly matched. Nick punched the psychopath across the jaw but Nigel brought up a knee and hit him in the stomach. While Nick was leaned over slightly, Crane managed to pull his gun hand free and struck the CSI in the cheek with the butt of the handle. Nick fell to the side and Crane rolled on top of him, gun at the ready. After the shock wore off Nick tried to attack again, bringing up a fist but Crane had the gun held steady, aimed and fired.
The fight immediately left Nick as the bullet hit the ground next to his head. Nigel had purposely missed, shooting a foot and a half away from his head, but something in his eyes told the other man he would not miss again if forced to fire once more. Nick was deafened for a moment and disoriented as Crane stood up and motioned for him to stand as well. Nick stood slowly, defeated for now but still defiant in his heart.
"Manners Nick, manners, that wasn't nice," Crane said spitefully, fuelled with disappointment and anger. He held the gun up again, now aimed between Nick's eyes, "Get. Back. In. The. Car."
Nick raised his hands in the air, breathing heavy and heart pounding. Crane was serious, something in him may have snapped and a wrong move now could cost them both their lives. Nick was desperate to stop this madman and would fight him to the end, but he also needed to try and keep Greg safe and unfortunately that meant submitting to Nigel's demands. He took a final look at Greg, saw he was breathing, and slowly backed away towards the front seat. From the door he could hear Crane moving around but with the trunk popped up could not see what he was doing. That's when his pocket shook. Reaching down, he pulled out his cell phone which had been set on vibrate and, turning his back to Crane, checked the caller ID.
Grissom.
Meanwhile, Crane shoved the gun into the back of his jeans and turned his attention to his burden. He unceremoniously shoved Greg's legs back into the trunk but just to ensure there would be no more interruptions he picked up a role of duct tape which was back there as well and tore off a strip, roughly placing it over Greg's mouth.
"That'll shut you up."
Nick looked at the phone, it could be their salvation or ruin. There was no way he could talk to Grissom, Crane would hear and probably see, but with his new and improved hearing, Grissom should be able to hear them though. Keeping the phone at his side, Nick flipped the top open and kept it from sight, but shouted behind him.
"Crane, leave him alone!"
Nigel had finished taping Greg's mouth and stood, closing the trunk and locking him in once more.
"Little brat won't be a bother anymore," he mumbled, striding towards the passenger side, his good mood ruined. "I said get back in the car!"
"Where are we going now Nigel?" Nick asked, perhaps a bit too loud but he had to be sure Grissom could hear.
"Same as before, Nick, straight ahead," Crane said, taking his seat.
Nick nodded, prayed, dropped the phone on the ground while it was still open, and got into the driver's seat. Taking the keys back from Crane, he started the car once more and continued down the long stretch of highway to their unknown destination.
TBC
Where the hell are they going? Well, I know, but I bet you're in the dark. You'll find out next time though, hope to catch you there. Goody
