Okay, so maybe I didn't get all the angst out of my system yet. Which you little angst consumers should be quite pleased about, things don't get much better for our boys in chapter five of …

Painful Journeys

By Goody

Minutes past in silence. Nick was thankful Crane seemed to have exhausted himself but he could not tear his eyes away from Greg's battered form. The younger man was still conscious, his face echoing the pain he was in. Blood ran down his face and arms and parts of his chest, the right side of his face was starting to show signs of bruising and Nick guessed that his back and legs would already be dark with bruises from where the bat had struck him. His right arm seemed to be hanging wrong too and Nick assumed he had broken a bone or two.

Crane had been silent for some time, kneeling on the floor, head down, and then he suddenly took a deep breath and stood up, his tears dry and his emotions again under control. He looked at Nick and smiled at the unshed tears still reflected in his eyes. He cries for me, he almost understands, Nigel thought and was eager to make him fully comprehend just what he needed to know. Then his gaze turned to Greg, who moaned as he tried to breathe and escape the pain that racked his entire body. Crane smiled at this too, glad Nick could see him standing tall and strong over the smaller, broken body of what would be his former friend. Still smiling, he reached down and took Greg by the hair, ignoring his attempts to get away as he pulled him to his feet and made him face Nick.

"Nigel please, leave him alone, don't hurt him anymore," Nick begged him, his voice now a mere whisper from emotional exhaustion.

"You almost understand Nick," Crane said, pleased as he pulled Greg forward, uncaring of his moans or stumbles. "You see what I went through, what I became; this worthless form that was good for nothing, no one could love that." He tossed Greg on the floor and scowled, clearly despising what he now represented. "You're so close to understanding why I had to change, why we'll be great friends."

"I understand," Nick sighed, desperately tired of this game and standing by idly as his friend was beaten in front of him. "I get it, I'll be your friend."

"Thank you for the offer but you don't get it all yet, not yet, but you will. I'll be back Nick and then you'll know, it'll all be so clear," Crane smiled again, wider than before and reluctantly strode out of the room. Both pair of eyes followed him out the door, watched it close behind him and listened as the lock was pushed into place. Footsteps went down the stairs and to the first floor but did not leave the house.

Greg sighed deeply, tears of relief, however momentary, springing to his eyes. Only a foot away Nick collapsed again, unable to believe that this was happening.

"Oh my god, this is insane," Nick mumbled to himself, but then turned his full attention to Greg whose body shook with tremors of fear and pain. He whispered softly, knowing Crane was still downstairs and not wanting him to hear, "Greg, are you all right? God, Greg? Come on man, you gotta talk to me."

He heard a sad, ironic laugh come from Greg's throat. Turning to face him he tried to convey his thoughts through his eyes, How do you want me to do that?

Nick laughed too, briefly, noting the idiocy of his question, "Sorry … I'm so sorry Greg. Can you move? If you come another foot closer I think I can pull the tape off myself."

Greg closed his eyes as if concentrating, swallowed deeply and then nodded his head. It wouldn't be easy but he could do it. He took in a steadying breath and tried to push himself onto his good shoulder; he stopped, shuddering as his broken ribs ground against each other, and leaned his forehead against the floor as he tried to breathe, but he was determined not to submit to the pain. Gritting his teeth, he decided one fast movement would probably be the best. As quickly as possible he pushed himself onto his knees and then managed to stand. He took the one step he needed to reach Nick, thankful it was no more or he would not have made it, turned himself around and collapsed against the wall beside him. His breathing was heavy again from exertion and his eyes closed tight as he waited for the spiking pain throughout his body to settle into its constant throb once more.

"I got ya man," Nick mumbled, tearing the tape off his mouth in one quick motion to get it done with.

Greg flinched away and coughed but also breathed much easier, "Thanks."

"Are you all right?" Nick asked immediately, knowing it seemed a stupid question but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Fresh tears welled up in Greg's eyes. He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling as he replied, sad and afraid, "Yeah I'm great. I missed my football game, spent the better part of the day in a trunk, and now a serial killer wants to use me as part of a real life recreation of his childhood. What could possibly not be all right?"

Nick flinched at the torment he heard in Greg's voice but continued, "You know what I meant."

Greg nodded, he did, "I think I'll be okay. Sadly enough, I've had worse. After the lab explosion I couldn't even move. It's mostly bruises, bad bruises," he took a deep breath as he shifted his weight, "and I think my shoulder's dislocated. I'm more worried about what's to come though."

"Me too," Nick admitted.

Greg tried to smile and turned to Nick, "I don't suppose me offering to be this guy's friend would help out any, huh?"

Nick laughed weakly, "I don't think so."

"What if I explained to him that he's a psycho? He could have a huge breakthrough, realize the wrongs he's done in his life, take up religion or something, repent, let us go," Greg continued, trying to bat away reality with humor.

"It's a nice thought, but I still gotta say no," Nick replied, wanting to smile, and appreciating Greg's attempt levity, but unable to feel any happiness in their current situation.

Greg nodded. A beat passed and he took the chance to voice what he was really thinking, however disturbing it may be. His voice was low and scared as he whispered, "Nick, look I've been listening to this guy ramble, and it's pretty clear he wants you to understand him and what makes him tick and all that, with me as the star of the show. But it's also obvious he doesn't care what happens to me and no matter what you tell him, I mean … what if he doesn't believe that you 'understand him' unless … unless I die?"

"Greg, do not think like that. Being in the field a handful of times does not make you an expert on the criminal psyche, okay. Besides someone's going to find us, or maybe I can even reason with Crane, but I do know Grissom's looking for us right now, I left him a lead. We just have to wait and be careful, it'll be all right," Nick promised, trying to be strong for Greg even though he felt little more than fear and sorrow in his own heart.

Greg wanted to believe him but he had looked into Crane's eyes and did not see a shred of humanity within them. Hardly wanting to admit it to himself, he leaned closer to his only friend in the world, "Nick, I'm scared."

"God, I'm so sorry, Greg, no way should you be involved in this sick game he's playing," Nick said softly, shaking his head in frustration. "This psycho's supposed to be after me, hell he's supposed to be in jail not after anyone. This is my fault man; I'm sorry you got hurt cause of me."

As Nick spoke Greg's fear dissolved away to be replaced by fiery anger. He turned to Nick and grit out his reply through clenched teeth, "Don't you dare Nick! Don't you dare apologize for him! He is the one with the problem and the sick illusions, he's the one doing this and there is no way this is your fault! No God damn way! Do you understand?"

Nick couldn't believe that though, "Greg you don't get it, I'm the one he's trying to …"

"I get it just fine even with only a handful of field experience. This guy's lonely and wants a friend, someone to idolize, and you're the perfect example of a great friend. You're everything he wants to be, an all American guy that people love, not that I blame him because I feel pretty lucky to be your friend myself some days, and if you apologize to me again for being a guy that people love so much psychos want to be, than I will kick your ass and you're going to have to find yourself a new best friend, and I think your only other option here is Nigel Crane," Greg continued, going so far as to allow a shy, sincere smile upturn his lips.

Nick's eyes took on an appreciative sadness, "Thanks man. All right then, let's figure out a way out of here. Can you walk at all?"

"Yeah if I need to, my legs are pretty much fine, but it's kind of a moot point with you chained to a radiator," Greg pointed out.

Nick pulled at the cuffs again even though he knew they would not budge, "I know. You're probably going to hate me for suggesting this but you could probably pull your arms in front of you if you really tried."

"How?" Greg asked, hopeful Nick had some kind of simple cop trick.

"If you roll yourself over you should be able to push your wrists past your legs and in front of you. If your shoulder's really dislocated it shouldn't be that hard to get around … but it'll hurt," Nick said, hating that he was suggesting something that would cause Greg even more pain, but there was no way he could get free from his own cuffs whereas the younger man had a chance for more freedom and possibly be able to defend himself.

Greg took a deep breath and pushed himself up a little, ready to try, "All right, just call me 'The Amazing Rolling Greg'."

"When you flip over you're gonna … oh my god." Nick was cut off by a heart stopping sound.

Both men turned at the same time, their ears perked and eyes scouring the other side of the room, unable to believe what they were hearing: Know Your Enemy by Rage Against the Machine.

Nick was almost scared to hope, "Greg, is that …"

"My cell phone!" Adrenaline pushed him to his feet and he immediately fell to one knee in pain, sucking in air as he searched the floor for the small piece of technology.

"I thought it fell out in the trunk," he sputtered as he rose to his feet again, stumbling as he looked over the ground, kicking away shards of glass in hopes of finding it. Having his arms cuffed behind him threw off his balance and his concussion made him light-headed but he refused to be slowed down.

Nick's heart soared, this could be their salvation, but then that same heart fell into his stomach as he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Apparently Crane had heard the phone ringing as well.

"Greg, he's coming!" Nick called out, praying with all his will that Greg could get the phone quickly.

"Found it!" Greg yelled, kicking over a large piece of glass, then he swore. With his arms behind his back he couldn't pick up the phone or answer it, and he could hear Crane getting closer. Thinking fast he kicked the phone towards Nick, praying it didn't break during the trip. But it made it safely and Nick was waiting with open hands as it slid into his grasp.

Greg wanted to fall to the floor as exhaustion and pain continued to roll over him but he knew they were far from safe. The heavy footsteps now approached the door. Greg ran towards it and threw all his body weight against the door to barricade it, which wasn't much but could save them the time they needed.

Meanwhile Nick flipped open the phone after taking a microsecond to check the caller ID, "Grissom?"

Greg could hear the lock on the other side of the door sliding back. Crane tried to push the door open and Greg pushed back against it, gritting his teeth as his injured shoulder was mauled, but determined to keep Nigel out for as long as possible. Across the room, Nick talked fast.


"Nick, are you all right?" Grissom demanded, pressing the phone tightly against his ear.

"Crane's coming back, I don't have much time. Greg's here too, we're in an old house in some kind of factory neighbourhood off of 108, I don't know what it is exactly. I think Crane used to …" Nick stopped suddenly and Grissom could hear splintering wood in the background followed by someone crying out and a body striking something hard.

"Nick, what's happening?" Grissom yelled and his eyes widened as he listened.

"No!" he heard Greg yell in the distance.

"Greg don't!" Nick shouted, no longer into the phone. Feet scuffled, breathing became heavy and then a single gun shot blasted through the air. Grissom jumped but continued listening; he could tell the phone had been dropped and heard what sounded like Greg scream in pain in the background, followed by Nick's voice, weaker than before, "Crane, leave him alone!"

Heavy footsteps echoed over the line and Grissom had to try once more, "Nick can you hear me? Are you all right?"

The last footstep landed and was followed by a loud crunch and then the horrifying sound of a dial tone. They were cut off.

Grissom stared in shock at the floor for a moment, processing what he had heard before meeting Catherine's questioning gaze.

"What Gil?" Catherine asked.

"We don't have much time."


Nick yelled into the phone as fast as he could while keeping his eyes on Greg, doing his best to hold the door closed with his battered body.

"Crane's coming back, I don't have much time. Greg's here too, we're in an old house in some kind of factory neighbourhood off of 108, I don't know what it is exactly. I think Crane used to …" Nick wanted to tell Grissom that this had been Crane's home as a kid, wanted to give him exact directions to the house, wanted to plead for him to hurry but he was cut off as Crane broke through the door, splintering the wood as he slammed into it, knocking Greg off balance and throwing him hard into the wall. Greg cried out as his bad shoulder was punished again. Crane stood like solid anger in the doorway, turning from the fallen Greg to Nick who still held the cell phone. The gun had returned to Crane's hand and he brought it up to Nick's eye level. The CSI's eyes widened and he started to cover his head but saw Greg move and push himself off the wall.

"No!" Greg called out desperately as he lunged at Crane.

"Greg don't!" Nick shouted, knowing Crane would not hesitate to shoot him. Just as Crane pulled the trigger Greg's body collided into him, throwing his aim off and causing the bullet to miss its sought after target of Nick's head. Instead its trajectory changed from fatal to wounding. Nick was stunned as the impact threw him into the wall and his head turned slowly to see the source of the searing pain in his left shoulder, watching almost fascinated as the red blood stained his shirt and he slid slowly down the wall, gasping.

Across the room, Crane took hold of Greg's collar and threw him to the ground. He landed hard on his dislocated shoulder and heard another popping before he screamed, with his eyes closed tightly to protect them from the glass that was again imbedding itself in his side.

"Crane leave him alone!" Nick yelled as his head cleared slightly, not noticing he had dropped the phone when he was shot. He knew the wound, though painful, was not fatal so once more he was focussed on Greg, the kid he thought of as a younger brother, someone he would confide in and protect, but right now he was doing a terrible job of just that and he ached in his soul to watch him be hurt any more. For once though, Nick was able to draw Crane's attention to himself when he turned away from Greg to march quickly over to Nick, immediately stepping on the cell phone that still echoed Grissom's voice on the other line. He grabbed Nick by the shirt collar, showing more aggression and anger towards him than he ever had before.

"Who did you talk to?" Nigel demanded, shaking him to get a response.

"Wrong number," Nick said through clenched teeth, smirking at Crane's anger and trying not to cry out as his wounded shoulder hit the wall. The smirk quickly faded though as Crane released him and turned around, grabbing Greg's hair again and picking him up just to toss him onto his back in front of Nick. A knife suddenly appeared from Nigel's back pocket, sharp, long and dangerous. He straddled Greg's hips and pulled back his head, then pressed the edge of the knife against the young man's exposed neck.

"Who did you talk to?" Crane asked again, his words slow and deliberate as the knife pushed in deeper but did not break the skin.

"Grissom, it was Grissom, my boss!" Nick admitted, completely unable to lie with Greg's death as a punishment.

Greg made a gurgling sound as he tried to swallow even as he stopped breathing from fear; he closed his eyes and shuddered as the cold metal bit in deep, wondering if he was going to die and hoping when his life flashed before his eyes it left out this day, the lab explosion, and his entire 'geek' years of high school.

"What did you tell him?" Crane demanded, looking directly into Nick's eyes.

"Nothing, you came in too soon," Nick replied. This did not please Nigel and the metal drove in a fraction deeper on one end, drawing blood and a small cry from Greg's throat. "I swear!" Nick continued. "I told him we were somewhere on 108 but I didn't have time to tell him anything else. That highway goes for three, four hundred miles, they'll never find you! Let him go!"

Crane met Nick's gaze for several long moments, the knife never wavering from its position. He nodded and seemed satisfied but did not release his hostage.

"You shouldn't have done that Nick. I thought you were beginning to understand. You disappointed me and I don't like being wrong. I may have to take somewhat drastic measures to test you from now on," Crane said noncommittally as if debating the decision.

Nick thought fast and hoped his reply would assuage Crane, "That's not what friends do Nigel, that's not how friendship works. Friends forgive one another, they don't punish each other."

Nigel turned from Nick and stared at Greg's face as he considered this, watching him shudder and gasp. The pressure of the knife eased off and as Greg breathed once more he ran the blade slowly over the lab tech's face.

"You're right Nick, that is what friends do. But he isn't my friend." With a quick flick of his wrist the knife cut across Greg's cheek, making a bloody gash from ear to cheek bone. Greg gasped and turned away, breathing hitched with fear and thanking god it wasn't worse.

"Please stop," Greg whispered, closing his eyes. His fear was almost palpable but his voice did not waver and he refused to shed any more tears. He just wanted this all to end, and when it was over he wanted to be alive. Both Crane and Nick were now listening and after taking a deep breath for courage, with a sad lopsided smile and mirthless eyes, he continued, "You know you don't have to do this. I'm really an okay guy when you get to know me … well okay, maybe I'm a bit of an acquired taste but I bet you'd feel really horrible about this if you knew how cool I am. I got a kickass CD collection."

A sad laugh escaped Nick's throat at Greg's weak, ridiculous attempt to get levity from Crane and repel his assaults. It was a ludicrous thing to say to a man with a knife to your throat, but it was so very Greg. It served to remind Nick even more that his friend should not be here, should not be involved with murder and violence like this. Greg should be at a football game, eating hotdogs, complaining about the music at half time. It was wrong that he was here, his life in the hands of a madman, and suddenly Nick hated Nigel Crane more than ever.

Nigel almost smiled at Greg's words, liking how desperate it made him appear in front of Nick, but then he heard Nick laugh and he was angry. Here he was with both of them at his mercy, knife in hand, having just revealed his deepest secrets to Nick, and yet he still laughed at this brat's pathetic attempts at humor? He was supposed to have all the power, rule this situation, and yet Nick's attention was still divided, still focussed on this child that was so far beneath him.

A horrible, malicious grimace passed over Crane's face as he looked down at Greg, putting all the pieces together in a logical, psychotic order.

"It's your fault," he announced, speaking slowly as his explanation formed in his mind.

"Wh … what? … Ah." Greg asked but said no more as the knife returned to his throat.

"It's you, you're why he doesn't understand. He's not listening. He's supposed to listen and learn and understand and you're distracting him. You're the reason he wants to leave, you're the reason he was bad, it's all your fault!" Crane shouted, enraged.

"No Nigel, it's you!" Nick yelled but was cut off as Crane seemed to snap even further.

"Shut up! Stop protecting him. You know it's his fault. He keeps you from caring about anyone else! You can't see past him! You're too good, too loyal. You can't give up on this worthless brat and let yourself understand me. … You have to understand though, he doesn't deserve you. If you're ever going to get it then he has to go!"

Greg struggled and kicked now, trying to get away as Crane's ire increased and the knife was moved from his neck to being poised high above his chest, with Crane clearly intending to strike at any moment.

"No, wait!" was all Greg could think to call out as he struggled for his freedom, but Crane's grip and position were strong and his stance determined. Looking into Crane's eyes he saw no signs of hesitation, just insane clarity, and the decision had clearly been made to kill him.

"You have to go," Crane whispered again, eyes widening just before the knife began its arc. Greg closed his eyes, not wanting to see the final strike that would take his life.

The blade never fell though and suddenly Nigel's bodyweight was pushed away and he could feel Crane fall to his side, gasping in surprise. Greg opened his eyes and saw Nick had pulled against his restraints enough that his leg was just able to reach Crane and he had kicked their kidnapper hard in the side of the head. Crane was getting up now, breathing hard in fury, but he was actually stopped in his tracks when Nick shouted at him, vehement and angry, no longer pleading or petitioning to any moral qualities Crane may have but demanding instead.

"You are not going to kill him, don't even touch him! If he dies Crane, I will never ever be your friend, no matter how much you want me to, no matter how well I understand, no matter how long you try, I will despise you forever, hate every word you say to me and ensure you never have a single moment where you don't feel utterly alone. He's my friend Crane, and unlike you I know what that means! If you really wanted to be my friend you'd leave him alone, but if you kill him I swear we will never, ever be friends, we'll be enemies. So get away from him!" Nick was shaking by the time he finished his tirade, anger, adrenaline and pain spurring him on. He would not sit by any longer as this madness continued and from the look on Crane's face it was clear he had gotten his point across.

Still on his knees beside Greg, Crane had not risen from the floor as Nick shouted and now tears actually appeared in his eyes. His thoughts were almost visible as his mind spun over these demands and ideas. Emotions flitted across his face like movie frames and eventually settled on incredibly frustrated. Standing, Crane clutched at his hair and screamed, loud and angry, releasing his emotions until his throat was raw. He tried to think, tried to come up with a way to make everything work. He stomped to the far wall and banged his head against it, an act he had begun as a child, and muttered to himself.

"I am one and who am I? I am one and who am I? I am one and who am I? I am one and who am I?" he stopped after a few more repetitions as his mind was calmed by the mantra and he tried to think, head still leaned against the wood. "He needs to go, but I can't kill him, Nick won't let me. Nick doesn't lie, he won't be my friend if I kill him. But he's distracting Nick, he won't understand with that brat here so I have to get rid of him somehow. Nick just doesn't get it, he has to understand … understand … yes, I'll show him! He's above Gregory, he's too good for him. I'll make him see that and then …"

Crane did not have the chance to finish his thought. Was that a footstep behind him? A snarl? He began to turn to see but before he could look he was struck in the head from behind and fell to the floor. Disoriented and surprised, he relied on instinct and quickly pushed himself onto all fours and put a hand on the back of his head. Before he could turn around to defend himself he was struck again, this time across the shoulder blades and he fell onto his stomach.

"Stay down!" the attacker shouted.

Standing above him, wobbling, Greg triumphed in his own mind as he raised the bat again.

TBC

Woo hoo! Go Greg! He's got so much spunk that little lab tech!

I must thank, over and over again my amazing reviewers!!!!!! All of you, Kenzimone (your review really made me smile), r-r-r-raccoon (another quirky review, it was cute), Sillie (love your consistency), whiterose01, A.H. Smith, higherbeingsfriendsfan, rozzy07, Neovator, Aurora, snowbunny3, deathchamberX17, Jackie (did you review twice?), Hyperactive Forever, Elf Fanatic Lark, ally, and Feline Feral. Every review was cherished and hugged.

You all replied so quickly and passionately, I am sorry it took a week for me to get a new chapter up but exams and essays and … you know. Hope this will keep your interest and satisfy your angst cravings for the time, and I apologize in advance for any who may fall off this cliffhanger. Goody