Ah, so you're all hankering for the angst are you? Then it's time for the Big Mac of angst chapter. Hope it's enough to tide you over.
Painful Journeys
By Goody
Technically Greg had been awake for more than ten minutes. The constant jarring of the car had roused him into consciousness but the combination of his concussion and the relentless heat he was still exposed to kept him in a state much like a waking dream. His eyes were open but his thoughts came slowly, muffled. He wondered where he was, but even in his hazy state he knew he was having difficulty breathing. The air was as thick as ever and now because of the duct tape on his mouth he could only breathe through his nose. He shifted uncomfortably, instinctively knowing he wanted out but unable to figure out how.
The car eventually stopped, as did the bouncing, and Greg felt his eyes start to droop once more in sleep. He hoped Nick would be there when he woke up and they could go to the football game but a small voice, way in the back of his mind, reminded him he would not be waking up again if he let himself fall asleep now. After realizing this he struggled towards consciousness for a minute, breathing deeply through his nose and pushing open his eyes, but the fight did not last long as his air continued depleting and the heat kept rising. Just as his eyes had closed and his breathing became shallow as his body gave up its fight for air, the trunk popped open once more.
Greg was immediately awake, more alive, as the cool air hit him and he looked up to see a figure outlined in sunlight. He had been too disoriented to hear the two men leave the car earlier, or the one return, so he was shocked by his appearance. The fresh oxygen immediately hit his lungs again and he yearned to breathe deeply, but the duct tape over his mouth denied these impulses. Still, his head cleared quickly and he recognized the unpleasant form of Nigel Crane standing before him. The stalker/murderer was smiling happily and Greg thought he preferred the scowl from before; that he at least understood, or so he thought.
"Time to play your part Gregory, Nick's waiting," Nigel cooed, reaching into the trunk and latching on to the collar of Greg's shirt. The lab tech was still gasping for air when Crane forcibly pulled him out of the trunk. Greg tried to stand but his legs refused, his muscles were loose from inactivity and lack of oxygen and he slumped against the side of the car.
"Move!" Crane ordered, not releasing Greg's collar as he pushed him forward, his voice becoming irritated. Greg's head was clearing as he took in more air but his mind was still hazy for a few moments. He had understood that Crane said he was taking him to Nick and he hoped that was true; he longed to see the CSI, to make sure he was okay, and, somewhat selfishly, to be reassured by his presence. He had no desire to be left alone with this psychopath or have to suffer whatever these 'plans' were by himself and he knew he would be stronger with Nick there.
Eventually Crane began to pull him along the driveway, not satisfied with Greg's slow progress. He stumbled into the house and tripped twice on the stairs and always Crane yanked him forward, choking him and depleting his already limited air.
Let me go! Greg screamed in his own mind since he could not voice these thoughts. He pulled back to try and stall so he could get his footing and catch his breath but Crane just took out his gun once more, ending his protests, and dragged him faster.
"You really should have been ready Gregory, you've been waiting all day to play this part after all," Crane mocked as he pulled the battered younger man along.
I was also unconscious most of the day, psycho.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs Greg was out of breath once more. At first he concentrated on breathing but then he heard Nick's voice and his head shot up, hope momentarily replacing fear. The CSI stood handcuffed to a radiator in what appeared to be some sick mockery of a child's room. His face was bruised and his wrists looked like they might be bleeding from the handcuffs but other than that he seemed fine, which Greg was beyond relieved to see.
Nick on the other hand was not so pleased. He was thankful that Greg seemed alert and in one piece after their horrific journey to this place but he was also scared beyond reason about what exactly Nigel had planned. Clearly it involved Greg somehow playing a part in making Nick understand Crane better, and he didn't want to imagine what that could mean, though he feared he would soon see for himself.
Crane hurried into the room and dropped Greg unceremoniously on the floor in front of Nick, knocking the wind out of him since he could not brace himself for the fall in any way. Greg moaned and focussed on the floor, trying futilely to forget their situation.
"Greg! Shit," Nick exclaimed, his anger again rising as he watched Crane toss the lab tech down carelessly.
"Sorry I had to leave you alone for a minute Nick, no one should have to be alone but I need to make you understand, and we need him for that. It's about all he's good for," Crane said sincerely, thoughtfully as he pushed the still gasping Greg onto his back with his foot. Greg dare not move while in the psychopath's gaze, terrified of what might come next.
Nick wished Crane would stop saying that, stop insisting that he 'understand' him, but instead he set aside his anger and pleaded for Greg once more, hoping to get through to Crane somehow, "Nigel please, just let him go. I understand, okay? I see this room and how you must have lived, and I'm sorry for you, I'd love to be your friend but you have to let Greg go."
Nick hated to show this much emotion in front of anyone, he felt like he was baring his soul, but this was the greatest fear he had ever known as he watched Crane tower over Greg's small form and he would do anything to escape it.
On the floor, Greg struggled to pull in enough air to please his lungs, but he also turned to face Nick, hoping he could convey his words in a glance. Nick met his gaze and he tried to squash his fear and look hopeful, reassuring, like he was prepared for whatever was to come and held no blame or anger towards his friend. Nick saw this and understood but his own eyes reflected only sorrow and regret.
Their brief moment was cut short though as Nigel spoke once more, sad but also angry at Nick's audacity and moving to stand only inches from his face, "How can you say that? You don't understand anything! You haven't seen anything! You don't know how I lived, how I came to be. This room, these walls, they can't speak. Only I can show you, make you understand what it was like to be here, to live like this," in his rising temper he suddenly kicked Greg hard in the ribs, eliciting a yelp from the smaller man. All coherent thought seemed to leave the murderer as he continued violently, "the pain," another kick, "the isolation," another to the back, "the loneliness! You didn't see any of it!"
"Then draw me a god damn picture you son of a bitch, just leave him the hell alone!" Nick demanded, fury and despair crushing his soul with each blow inflicted on Greg's body. He pulled and tore at the cuffs, desperate to come to Greg's aid, but they would not give and he was forced to watch his friend suffer. "Greg, goddammit! Stop it you bastard!"
But Crane ignored or could not hear him.
Greg tried to roll away but had come up against a wall, preventing escape. Crane's mind and body were becoming trapped in the horrible memory of his life and he took the lab tech by the hair and threw him into the wall, holding him up with a hand on his throat.
"Pain was constant, every day. It was a reward for being bad," Nigel punched Greg across the face, "for being good," he kneed him in the stomach, "it was a reward for doing absolutely nothing!" Greg wanted to collapse to the floor but his attacker held him up, determined to hurt him, to show them both how his life had been. Suddenly Crane took him by the collar and launched him across the room; Greg slammed side first into the door jamb and heard something pop in his shoulder. He lay on the floor for a moment in agony, moaning and fighting tears, and then he screamed behind his gag, mentally begging for a reprieve as Crane picked him off the floor by the injured arm and the broken bones grinded against one another. He tried to pull away but Crane's grip was strong and his delusional state even stronger.
"Stop Nigel, please, I had it rough as a kid too, I get it, but Greg's not responsible. You don't have to hurt him! Just leave him alone, tell me what happened, I'll understand," Nick yelled, desperate to draw this monster's attention away from Greg, but Crane continued on, determined to finish his story. He dragged his captive towards Nick, towards the barred window in the wall.
"I could see the whole word through this window," Crane said spitefully, then slammed Greg's head into the steal bars on top of the glass. Greg was thrown back on the floor, a new cut dripping blood down his forehead as he lay moaning and gasping, struggling to breathe through the duct tape on his mouth. "I could see the other children in the neighbourhood, I could see the other parents, but I couldn't be a part of that. I was in here, alone! … this is what my life was like … this is what you have to understand."
Crane kicked Greg onto his side and then crossed the room. Nick watched in horror, listening to Greg's harsh breathing as Crane picked up a baseball bat from the closet, walked over slowly, swinging it leisurely once and then brought it high above his head.
"Nigel no!"
Without another word Crane struck Greg hard across the back as he tried to rise off the floor, immediately sending him back down with a muffled groan.
Nick, help! Make this stop! Greg screamed in his mind. He knew the CSI could do nothing, and it wasn't his fault, but he wanted the pain to stop. He had faced enough pain in his life and he knew this wasn't fair, yet still it didn't stop. The pain continued and he felt each blow as clearly as the first.
"I was always alone! I could see them! I could watch but I couldn't leave! No one ever saw me, or cared! I had no one! No one!" Each revelation brought with it another strike of the wooden bat, landing fast and hard. Every small breath of air Greg managed to take in was immediately knocked out of him and he thought he may suffocate while being beaten. He wanted to run but instinct made him curl in on himself, and Crane was so far gone in his torment that most of the blows fell to his back and legs, causing minimal damage but memorable pain.
Behind him Nick pleaded, still trying to reason with the monster, "No, don't, please! Greg, oh my god. You're gonna kill him, you son of a bitch, stop, please! It wasn't him! For God's sake, stop it! I understand, just don't hurt him anymore, I understand!"
Suddenly Nigel seemed to snap back to reality and the bat fell to his side. Greg coughed and moaned, somehow managing to roll over weakly in a desperate attempt to escape. Every inch of his body ached, his shoulder felt like it was being stabbed every time he moved it, and he felt at least two ribs give way when he tried to breathe and he knew they were broken, but most of all he was afraid. Crane was a madman and clearly he wasn't opposed to hurting him, so what would keep him from killing him? Greg couldn't think of anything, he just knew he didn't want to die.
Nick thought he had gotten through to the former cable man and with tears prickling his eyes he continued, "I understand, I'm your friend Nigel, I'll stay with you, but you have to leave him alone, please, for me."
But no comprehension appeared on Crane's face. He was lost in a different memory, thinking back. His gaze strayed to the mirror in the far corner, the one he had brought there and was as yet untouched. It was tall and wide, glistening slightly in the few rays of sunlight that made it into the room.
"I use to have a mirror once," Crane began, speaking in even tones, processing the memory and barely noticing his surroundings, "I could see myself in it and picture other people were with me too, my friends. I could see them, I could always see them in there with me. I knew they were there, in the mirror and that was my only way to get to them. Then Dad came up one night, angry … I hadn't put away my toys. I never had any toys. He tore my pictures and … then he broke it." His voice become deeper, filled with dark emotions. "It shattered and they were gone. He took them away." Nigel stood for a moment, his anger simmering and his fists clenching as he remembered everything, and then with calculated steps he turned back to Greg who had managed to reach the far wall and lean against it, trying to recover he was still gasping, and his eyes widened as Crane approached.
"Nigel no! Stop! It wasn't him, it was your father! It's not his fault! Don't touch him," Nick continued pleading but Crane's steps did not slow.
He took Greg by the shirt collar, ignoring his weak struggle to escape, and then seemed to explode. "He took them away! They never came back! They were gone! I couldn't find them! It wasn't fair!" Snarling, he threw the helpless lab tech headfirst into the mirror.
Glass shards scattered everywhere, beautiful and dangerous as they filled the air and floor. Greg fell to the ground, glass cutting his face and arms, more imbedding into his torso and back as he landed and rolled. He screamed behind his gag as he felt his shoulder pop farther out of place, taking with it bone and muscle, tears marked his cheeks.
Behind him, Crane deflated. All his anger and torment seemed to have been released in these moments of revelation and violence, and hot tears streamed down the psychopath's face as he fell to his knees in despair for his own sad life.
Finally there was Nick. He had also dropped to his knees, emotionally exhausted and drained; he had seen all he could handle of the life of Nigel Crane. He watched Greg shift painfully on the floor, wondering how unconsciousness had not claimed the younger man, and whispered his apologies.
"Greg, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry ..."
In that small room of past and present torture all eyes shed tears.
Silence dominated in the Tahoe as Catherine and Grissom made their way to Greg's apartment, each lost in their own worry and concern for their team mates. They had seen an unnatural amount of death and violence in their line of work, more than any normal person would see in their lifetime, and this gave their imaginations the horrible fodder it needed to picture Nick and Greg in a wide variety of dangerous and terrifying situations while in the hands of Nigel Crane.
Grissom looked at Catherine, worried for her. She was a strong parent figure to the younger CSIs and he knew she had a maternal protectiveness of them, making the entire situation all the more hard on her. Needless to say it had not been easy for her to handle the guilt of blowing up the lab and Greg, the youngest and most innocent member of their team and this would not bode well with her either. He was about to ask if she was all right when his phone rang, it was Sara.
"Please tell me you found something," Grissom answered, trying hard not to hope too much. Sara's sigh was not a good sign though.
"We found Nick's cell phone right where Archie tracked it, it hasn't been touched. There are some skid marks and tire tracks in the dirt, looks like they pulled over pretty suddenly but there's no sign there was damage like a flat tire. The skid marks are straight, no swerving so I don't think it was a struggle for control of the car. The dirt's unsettled near the back of where the car was parked, looks like there was a struggle, I got one drop of blood, other than that I can't tell you much."
"All right, come on back in when you're done, I need you to start researching Crane after you get everything processed. What about Brass?" Grissom asked.
"He's up in the chopper, they're going to do an overhead for awhile but they have no idea what they're looking for Gris. We don't have the make of the car or any idea where Crane could be headed out here," Sara reminded him dismally.
"I know, we'll find something, call me if you learn anything else."
"No problem," Sara said and then hung up.
Grissom turned to Catherine, his expression telling her enough, but said, "Sara didn't find much except for Nick's phone. Some tire tracks and signs of a struggle, Brass is still searching in the chopper."
"Is there any hope he'll find anything?" Catherine asked.
Grissom hated that he had to shake his head, "They don't even really know what to look for."
They had reached Greg's building and were pulling into the parking lot. Catherine sat up in her seat when a car in the lot caught her eye, "Greg's car is still here."
Grissom looked too, "And so is Nick's."
They both knew what that likely meant. They got out of the Tahoe and slowly approached the crime scene, eyes on the ground. The small collection of blood near the back tire of Nick's wheel confirmed their suspicions.
"This is where he grabbed them," Catherine announced, able to see how it played out all too clearly. Grissom agreed and looked up, spotting a camera overlooking the lot.
"I'll process this, go see the landlord and find out about getting the tapes for that camera, then we'll move into the apartment," Grissom instructed.
"Sure," Catherine said, making her way to the building.
"Archie said the game they were going to was at two o'clock so see if there's anything on the tapes from 12:30 on, we know they're in a car we just need to know exactly what they're driving," Grissom called out in reminder as she disappeared into the building.
Kneeling down he took out a swab and ran it over the dried blood; it was probably Nick or Greg's but there wasn't a lot of it which boded well for their safety when they were taken at least. A search of the ground presented only two tickets to the football game so he moved on to the inside of the car, hoping to find more. There was nothing unsettled, no blood on the dash or the seats, some papers in the back were still piled nicely and a cooling coffee cup stood straight up in the cup holder. There had been no struggle in the car and the passenger door was still locked, meaning Nick and Greg had not even gotten in. Satisfied with this, Grissom pulled himself out of the front seat but his eye caught on something out of place that he saw as he came at a new angle with the floor.
Clicking on his flashlight he peered under the dashboard, noting a wire that didn't belong. He took off the paneling and followed the wire to a flashing box attached to the engine seemingly set to turn on whenever the car was started. Grissom looked it over: tracking device.
Undoubtedly Crane had put it in Nick's car to follow his every movement and still be able to keep a safe distance to avoid being seen. Nick would notice if someone was tailing him, and Crane knew that. Clearly Crane knew far too much. Grissom bagged the device and labelled it then started towards the building to join Catherine. He found her in a security room reviewing video tape.
"Find anything?" she asked first.
"Just a tracking device Crane planted in Nick's car. That and the blood, plus their tickets to the football game. You?" Grissom asked, noticing the tape was rewinding.
"Crane's driving a black cavalier, I already called Brass and gave him the description. The camera got everything," Catherine announced and thankfully did not have to explain further as the tape finished rewinding to the appropriate spot. She hit play and let him see for himself.
Grissom watched, trying to restrain his emotions as he saw the two friends enter the shot, unaware that the man waiting for them in the black car was actually Nigel Crane.
"Make sure we run the plates on that car, it's probably stolen but if we know where from it may give us a new starting point," Grissom mumbled and then winced as Greg was struck suddenly from behind by Crane and toppled to the ground. Nick came around and they could see that Crane was armed. The camera had no sound so they watched silently as Crane and Nick talked animatedly and then the madman forced Nick to handcuff his best friend, put him in the trunk and drive away. Catherine hit the stop button, unnerved and hoping they were still alive. It had been more than two hours since they were taken and they still had no clue where they might be.
"Nick looks pissed," Catherine commented somewhat lightly, stating the obvious.
"Yes, he does. Well that was definitely Nigel Crane but his demeanour seems to have changed completely. I saw no nervous tendencies in his stance or movement, he was very confident," Grissom noted, wondering at the change.
"He's been in therapy since his arrest, who knows how his delusions may have changed," Catherine commented.
Grissom nodded, "Well, if that's the case then why take Greg too? Even Nick looked surprised when Crane seemed to say it. If his fantasies revolve around becoming Nick, or becoming Nick's friend, why bring Greg along? In a way Greg is his competition for Nick's friendship, it would hinder Nick's ability to become Crane's friend with him there."
"Maybe he wants to make Nick choose," Catherine theorised.
"Or he wants to show him that he would make the better friend, that he was more deserving. He may want to prove himself," Grissom suggested and both their minds immediately began to play for them what that might mean. Neither of them liked what they saw and they shook the thoughts away.
"Let's go check out the apartment," Grissom suggested as a way of forgetting the disturbing footage.
They both entered the apartment and again saw no signs of a struggle which wasn't surprising since they now knew that the attack had taken place in the parking lot. Still, they dusted for prints and collected several hair samples; Nigel Crane was a thorough stalker and planner and it was very possible he had been in the apartment, watching Nick and Greg for some time. Catherine was about to suggest they head back and focus on doing research on Crane when Grissom's cell phone rang again.
"Hey Grissom, it's Warrick, I'm at Nick's place. You got to see this man, there's more spy equipment and cameras here than in the Whitehouse. You'd miss them if you weren't looking though; he's got bugs planted under the tables, cameras in the lights, everything we saw from him before."
"But no clue where he might be now," Grissom surmised.
"No, not yet, I'll keep looking though, I still got the attic to check out," Warrick said sounding optimistic. "You guys find anything?"
"Yeah, Crane attacked them here in the parking lot and we got a make on his vehicle. He knocked out Greg and then forced Nick to drive at gunpoint, there's not much in the apartment and we're towing Nick's car back to the lab for a more detailed inspection," Grissom replied.
"All right, I'll keep working here and call if I find anything else," Warrick promised. Grissom said he would do the same, said good-bye and hung up. As he put the phone back in his pocket he noticed Catherine staring at him strangely.
"What?" Grissom asked.
"We have Nick's cell phone, where's Greg's?" Catherine asked, looking around the apartment having not seen it in the bedroom.
"I don't know. I tried it twice but there was no answer either time," Grissom said, "but that was almost an hour ago."
"But it rang? That means it's on, wherever it is," Catherine surmised. Gil nodded but didn't think this would help them.
"I think if they had it and could, they would have made some attempt to call us already," Grissom noted but was not opposed to any ideas at this point.
"Yeah, but Greg was unconscious when Crane put him in the trunk, he might not have been awake to answer," Catherine guessed.
Grissom nodded his agreement and took out his phone once more, dialling Greg's number. It rang, confirming Catherine's suspicion that it was still on, but after seven rings there was still no answer. Grissom sighed and was about to hang up but on the final ring there was a click and his heart skipped as he heard the panicked voice on the other end.
"Grissom?"
"Nick?"
TBC
Oh this story is fun to write! I love it!
Amazing reviews! Thank you soooo much everyone, you're all so sweet and soooo desperate for an update.
Djembe – Thank you so much for the amazingly well rounded review. It really made me feel great. I also checked out your profile and saw you are very new to (that or you just got a new user name) and I wanted to thank you soooo much for making me the first fic on your faves list. I'll try to keep up the high standards.
Rehgai – No, no rape. I would have had a warning and a much higher rating if there was, but I think the angst is high quality without it.
Aurora – I didn't leave. I took a … break? Well, I didn't leave it for long anyway, and I hope your sanity's intact.
Michelle – Yeah, Nick has some more angst parts later when Nigel really starts to snap, you'll like it, I got a little bit of both.
Thanks to you all, and I hope none of you fall off this cliff hanger ending. (god I sound like my father, despite all my efforts to the contrary). Anyway, I gotta go study, Goody!
