You people are all awesome! But more about that later. Reviewer thanks are at the end. For now, as your reward for being such amazing people, another chapter of ...
What It's Worth
By Goody
The car was silent as it passed along the dark road, with neither Nick nor Grissom having anything to say at the moment as they were each being tormented by their own dark, worrisome thoughts. Eventually Nick popped in a CD without asking, but kept the volume at a low level that still allowed for conversation.
"You like Beethoven?" Grissom asked, surprised by Nick's listening choice.
Nick shook his head, "No."
Nick usually would have put on the radio to cover up the silence but he didn't think there was anything to listen to - rock would remind him of Greg and country would remind him of how much Greg hated country. When he checked out the CDs in the holder they were all classical - a nice middle ground and he heard they were relaxing. He was tense enough to be considered steel.
"Are you all right?" Grissom asked, now able to show his concern since they had almost a twenty minute drive on their hands.
Nick laughed joylessly, "Everyone keeps asking me that. The eye's fine, I've had worse. I'm not the one that was kidnapped. I'd appreciate it if you focus on how to find Greg."
"You know, a violent experience can be just as traumatic for the survivor as the victim," Grissom pointed out, something Nick undoubtedly already knew.
But Nick's reaction was violent and unexpected, "Greg's not a victim."
"No, right now he's just a hostage. But that still doesn't change the fact that you're now safe and he's still in the hands of two very dangerous men. Survivor's guilt would still apply and be totally understandable."
"Survivor's guilt," Nick seemed to scoff at the idea, but then his expression became serious and he looked out the window, avoiding Grissom's eye. "They wouldn't take me. I asked them to take me instead of Greg, they said I'd be too much of a handful, probably just cause I was armed and Greg wasn't." And then guilt showed its ugly head, "Geez, they were right in the back seat Grissom. Two of them! I never heard them, I never looked. And then I just did everything they asked me to. I drove and I stopped and I was a good little hostage, and I didn't do anything to stop them. They just took Greg and I didn't do anything, I let them. Hell, I drove, I helped them really. I should be arrested as an accessory."
Grissom kept staring at the road, listening, and not judging like always, "And what would you have done differently?"
"I don't know, checked the backseat, drawn my gun, crashed the car when I had the chance."
"And risk killing yourself and Greg?" Grissom pointed out.
"Like I said," Nick frustration peaking, "I don't know."
"Exactly. If even in hindsight you can't figure out what you should have done differently, then you probably did the right thing. From what you've said these men seemed reasonable …"
"They were violent," Nick added, which he considered overpowering reasonable.
"Still, they want this disk and whatever's on it very badly, Greg's the only card they hold, they won't hurt him," Grissom said confidently.
"Yeah, I'll try to convince myself of that Grissom. The same way I was convinced they were going to let us go when we didn't have what they wanted," Nick said sarcastically.
"That attitude's not going to help Greg," Grissom commented.
Nick was in no mood for the lecture, "Well, if you haven't noticed, Greg's not here, so it's not going to hurt him either."
Before Grissom could reply his cell phone rang.
"Grissom. You did?" Nick sat up when Grissom's eyes widened. "Where? Have you? It is? No, Nick and I will be there in a few minutes, we'll check it out anyway. Thanks Brass." He was less excited by the time he hung up.
"What is it?" Nick asked.
"They found the car," Grissom reported, stalling Nick's enthusiasm by putting out his hand to indicate there was more, "Greg's not with it. It's empty. There's another set of tire tracks in the dirt leading away. It looks like they had a second car ready."
"Damn it!" Nick elbowed the seat in frustration and stared out the window.
"I told Brass we'd take a look. It's on the way to the lab and the call's not for more than three hours."
"Yeah, that's fine. Let's go, they might have left something behind. We can track down the registration at the very least, although it's most likely stolen," Nick said, clearly not having too much faith in what they would find - these guys had been professionals, clues would not be easy to come by.
"Any little thing, Nick. Even a stolen car can sometimes lead us to who stole it," Grissom pointed out.
But what can lead you to a stolen Greg? Nick thought to himself as he prayed Greg was all right.
------------- - - - - - - - -
Greg's head hurt. He opened his eyes to pure darkness and pounding pain. Memories came back to him about what had happened and he tried not to panic. The blindness was just because of the blindfold, he told himself. After all, he had taken choice two, so that meant he was in the backseat, supposed to be unconscious and obviously covered by some kind of blanket. He moved his head a little and felt liquid drip down his forehead; it felt sticky and thick. A lot had pooled by the side of his face and he had a feeling it was blood; Memphis must have cut him open when he knocked him out.
The ride was smooth, Las Vegas roads were well taken care of, and it was also quiet. With his head this close to the ground Greg would have thought he'd be able to hear traffic clearly, but there was nothing. He also didn't hear any talking from his kidnappers, but static voices filled the air.
"Car 32 to Detective Brass, suspect's vehicle has been spotted. It's in a low ditch on route 12."
Greg's darkened eyes widened when he recognized the next voice, "Brass here, do not approach. Repeat, do not approach. Suspects are armed, dangerous and have a hostage. Make sure no one runs and hold tight until we get there."
"Understood sir, but I don't see any movement, I'm pretty sure it's empty."
"Damn right it's empty." The final, laughing voice clearly belonged to Memphis and Greg shivered involuntarily. There was a click and the static voices disappeared.
They have a police scanner, Greg realized and was not comforted. It would not be easy for the police to get the upper hand on these guys if they knew almost every move they were making before hand. Not the least bit enthused with this new knowledge, Greg closed his eyes, wished for Nick, and wondered why he had bothered waking up.
----- - - - - - - -
"These prints are all smudged and grainy," Grissom announced from the front seat as he finished dusting.
"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me, they were wearing leather gloves," Nick replied from the back where he was sweeping the seats with the ALS.
"You got anything?" Grissom asked, finding little. They had already handed off the registration to Brass who was tracking down the owner - they were in charge of the material evidence.
"Some blue fibres on the seat, that could be from anything. Hmm, floor's a little discoloured right here," he noted as he took a swab from his kit and took a sample. As he reached for the next bottle he hesitated, then forced himself to pour. The white swab turned pink. His head dropped, "Blood. Fresh, must be Greg's."
Grissom tried to take this in stride, "At least we know they didn't put him in the trunk."
"Of this car," Nick added despondently.
Grissom tried to stay focussed, "Was he bleeding when you saw him last?"
Nick shook his head, "No, just bruised. Damn."
"It's not a pool Nick, you almost didn't see it. The cut's probably superficial," Grissom pointed out.
"Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right," Nick said, but didn't sound convinced.
They found nothing else of use in the car and it wasn't long before Brass was ordering a tow truck to take it in to be impounded, and Grissom and Nick were on their way to the lab once more to prepare for a very important call.
---------------- - - - - - - - -
Greg had been faking unconsciousness for five minutes now, which wasn't hard when you were blindfolded and covered up. Memphis and Dallas didn't say much and Greg still didn't hear any sounds of traffic. Just as he started to wonder where they may be that there was so little activity on the road he felt the car slow to a halt. The engine turned off, the car doors slammed and Greg felt his terror rising once more. He prayed that they would just forget him somehow, leave him where he was, but those prayers went unanswered. The door at his head opened, he felt the air rush in and the blanket was pulled away.
"Wakey, wakey Greggo," Memphis taunted, slapping his cheek.
He flinched away from the contact, even more terrifying without sight and choked out, "I'm awake."
"Damn right you are cause as much of a gentleman as I am, I wasn't carrying you. Get up," Memphis hauled his arm none too gently and forced him out of the car, only barely keeping him upright when his legs wouldn't support him for a moment.
"Where are we?" he asked as he stumbled along behind Memphis's grip.
"If you were supposed to know you wouldn't be blindfolded Einstein," Memphis pointed out, shoving him to get him to walk faster.
Greg didn't hear any sounds or people, which verified that this place was very secluded. It would have to be for these guys to march him around tied up like this in plain sight.
"Ah," Greg hissed in pain as he fell to one knee. Memphis had neglected to mention they were going up steps and little did he care that Greg currently had no coordination; he pulled him along relentless.
"How old were you when you learned to walk for God's sake, fifteen? Twenty?" Memphis mocked as he continuously kept him upright when he stumbled.
"Guess I don't practice enough blindfolded and handcuffed," Greg replied, not quite sarcastically, but not sincere either. His blindness was making him forget the danger he was in.
They were passing through a doorway and Memphis pushed him ahead as they walked through, not caring that he half fell on his side.
"Oh, we are going to have some fun together Greggo, I guaran-damn-tee it," Memphis hissed in his ear when he grabbed him by the hair to pull him up again. A fresh wave of understanding about the reality of his situation caused Greg to lower his head submissively in recognition of his mistake - after all, he didn't want to imagine Memphis's idea of fun.
As they walked across a concrete floor Greg nearly tripped again over what felt like a small pile of metal rods, and then Memphis threw him to the ground, on purpose this time. The larger man took Greg's shoulder and pushed him back a foot until his back hit a metal pole. Then Memphis knelt down behind him.
"I almost want you to try something," he whispered as he took a strong hold of Greg's wrist while he unlocked one of the handcuffs. Greg felt blood rush back through his fingers, stinging them, but the feeling was short lived as Memphis looped the cuff around the pole and then snapped it back around Greg's wrist, locking him in place. Greg didn't even have time to consider pulling away.
Then he felt Memphis get up and kneel in front of him - he knew he was at eye level because he could smell the gunman's breath and Greg thought he had probably been chewing mint gum. Greg tried to move around the pole in an attempt to distance himself a little, but Memphis's strong hand grabbed his jaw and held his head in place.
"If you're smart, which I seriously have my doubts about, you won't open your eyes," Memphis instructed.
Greg was smart and kept his eyes closed as he heard the man pick something up and then tear it. Memphis swiftly lifted up Greg's blindfold but his eyes were immediately covered again, by something stronger and stickier. Greg could only guess it was duct tape.
"I realize you could probably get that off if you really wanted, but I'm going to be close by and I suggest you don't. The next step after the tape is a drastic one and most people enjoy having their eyes attached to their head, I doubt you're any different," Memphis said, chuckling, but also using just the tone to indicate he would really do such a thing and Greg didn't doubt it; he had seen what he and Dallas had done to the poor Wallers.
Greg tried to take a deep breath, but all he could manage were short gasps, "I … I understand."
"Glad to hear it," Memphis laid a hand on Greg's cheek and added suggestively, "I kind of like your eyes the way they are myself." Then patted Greg's chest and walked away.
Greg shuddered and pulled his knees as close to his chest as possible. The large man was purposely trying to frighten him, in several different ways and it was working.
Across the room he could hear the men talking, but couldn't quite make out the entire conversation, it sounded like they were discussing the payoff they would get after they delivered this disk they were so anxious to get their hands on. The disk that was worth so much they had kidnapped him in order to force Nick to retrieve it for them.
Nick. Where was he now? Greg couldn't know. He hoped they hadn't hurt him after they'd lost sight of each other, but somehow he didn't think so - they needed Nick after all, more than they needed him.
Greg was dying to know how long it would be until he was set free and how they were going to make the switch. In fact, he had a lot of questions and briefly considered asking a few, but he didn't want to draw the men's attention again, so far that always meant more pain or torment and he doubted they would tell him anyway. Besides, even if he had all the answers, he was still powerless to do anything.
With this in mind he laid his head down on his knees and waited. It was all he could do.
------------- - - - - - - - - -
Warrick looked over the room for what felt like the hundredth time and sighed. There was no disk. Every room in the house had been turned upside down by the original thieves before they got there, and now everything had been gone over twice more by the cops and CSIs scouring the house and still they had found nothing.
There was a safe in the bedroom that the kidnappers had opened and cleaned out and so far that was the only hidden compartment they had found. There were two computers in the house, both of which had had every CD and Floppy disk stolen from their cases. The drawers were empty, the mattress's stuffing had been pulled out, the floors had been checked for secret spaces - it was two hours until deadline and there was nowhere left to look.
Nick had been calling every half hour and was due to do so again shortly, and Warrick really dreaded having to tell him they hadn't found it yet. Without knowing exactly what the disk looked like, they couldn't even make a decent copy to try to fool these men; besides, according to Nick they were going to check its authenticity before Greg was released.
"Catherine, I think we might have to face that fact that whatever the hell they want it for, this disk isn't here," Warrick announced, hating to admit defeat but that seemed like what they were facing.
Catherine stood up from her inspection of the closet floor and ran a hand through her hair, "I know what you mean. Whatever it is, it must be pretty valuable. Mr. Waller must have either hidden it extremely well to protect it or was smart and put it in a safety deposit box or something. Either way, two more hours might not be enough time to track it down."
"Exactly," Warrick agreed, then decided it may be a good time to open up to each other - they were both very tense. "So, how do you think Greg's handling himself with these guys? Think he'll be all right?"
Catherine shook her hear, obviously very worried, "I don't know Warrick. He's been in the field full time, what, three months? He's only just started to feel confident processing a scene. I hate to see what this is probably going to do to him."
Warrick laughed briefly.
"What?" Catherine demanded.
He smiled appreciatively, "It's just there's not a doubt in your mind that we're going to get him back, is there? You've already jumped ahead to the emotional state he'll be in when he gets out in the field again. It's nice to be optimistic like that."
"I don't have time for doubt. Besides, it's not optimism, it's realism. We always get our guy, and I have to believe that we will again," Catherine said quite seriously. She sounded confident, completely sure they would get Greg back, but the barest tremor in her voice and shake of her hands was proof that she was just as worried as the rest of them, just as frustrated and tense. She just had a lot of experience with hiding such things.
"I suppose we usually do," Warrick agreed, trying to feel his own confidence in the statement. He could see the truth beneath Catherine's demeanour, she was scared like all of them. Unfortunately this was no time for comfort or talking. Now more than ever they had to find this disk. "Hey, maybe we should check out what's on the computer, it might have something useful, maybe even figure out what these guys are looking for."
"It's all yours. I'm going to check the living room one more time," Catherine replied, stepping out as she clearly wanted to cover as much ground as possible.
Warrick understood how she felt. He sat down at the computer chair and hit the power button, hoping the thieves hadn't damaged it in their search. When the power started he heard a familiar whirring sound and his eyes widened in disbelief.
"You gotta be kidding me," he whispered, not believing how simple it might be. So simple they had overlooked it, just like the kidnappers had.
He hit the eject button and the whirring stopped as the CD-Rom drive opened and sitting there innocently was a beautiful blue disk. Warrick smiled and sighed, relief filling him as he picked it up gently and stared at it appreciatively for a moment.
"Thanks," he said to no one in particular, then he made his way into the hallway. "Cath!"
She emerged from the other room immediately. He smiled and held up his find, "I got it."
Her whole body seemed to relax and she came forward to hug him with the exhausted feeling that relief brings.
"Thank god. Let's get this to the lab, see what's on this baby that's so important," she suggested and Warrick agreed.
As they headed for their car, Warrick suddenly couldn't wait until Nick called.
--------- - - - - - - - -
"God I'm bored. Why'd you give him four hours, that's just overkill? We're going to be waiting forever," Memphis complained as he sat up from his sprawled position on the countertop.
"We were in that house for an hour and couldn't find it, no sense in rushing him so he can't either," Dallas pointed out a few feet away where he was sitting at a makeshift table, playing solitaire on a laptop.
"He's going to have all his cop buddies helping him, no way they won't find it in ten minutes," Memphis added.
"Either way we get paid," Dallas replied.
"Whatever. Aren't you bored?" Memphis asked, annoyed by his partner in crime's cool demeanour.
"Of course I am, I just don't announce it to the world like some people," Dallas said condescendingly. Before Memphis could reply, Dallas's phone rang. He checked the ID and then headed for the door. "Be right back, I gotta take this."
Memphis groaned as he laid back down, now not even having conversation to occupy him. A barely audible shuffle drew his attention across the room - Greg was still firmly attached to his pole, but was shifting his legs, which must have been cramping.
"I'll just have to entertain myself," Memphis whispered as he swung his legs to the floor and started across the room. "How about you Greggo, you bored?"
The question was loud and closer than the rest of their conversations had been, startling Greg. They had left him alone for the last hour but now it seemed Memphis wanted to torment his captive some more.
Swallowing, Greg shook his head, "No, I'm fine."
"Really? And you're doing even less than I am. How do you so occupy yourself?" Memphis continued dramatically. Greg didn't reply right away and he pushed some more, "Come on, don't hold out on me, share your secret."
"No secret," Greg replied, coughing a little now, "I used to work in a DNA lab, I'm used to spending a few hours staring into space." He was coughing harder when he finished - his throat was dry and the bruising on his neck felt worse, possibly swelled.
"That cough doesn't sound good Greggo. Let me get you a drink," Memphis insisted and Greg could hear him walking away.
"No, I'm all right," Greg replied, barely audible. He was actually dying for water or something cool, but the eagerness with which Memphis had offered to get him a drink made him wary of what it would be.
He heard Memphis coming back and dreaded what was to come.
"Here, have a good long swig of this," Memphis said with fake kindness as Greg felt the rim of a bottle near his mouth; it definitely wasn't water.
"No, I'm fine," he said again, pulling away but Memphis grabbed his jaw and squeezed, forcing his mouth open and holding his head in place. He tried to struggle free but the bottle was tilted back and burning, harsh liquid was forced into his mouth. Greg could tell it was some kind of very strong alcohol that would normally burn the throat. He swallowed about half of what was poured, the rest ended up on his clothes, and with the condition his throat was in the liquor might as well have been bleach.
Memphis was laughing hysterically when he finally released him and stepped back to watch him gasp and cough as he tried to get the taste out of his mouth and liquid out of his lungs. It took a few minutes for the chest tearing coughs to subside, though his throat still felt physically burned. By the time his breathing was settled into a dull wheezing he was on his knees, leaned as far forward as possible and exhausted.
It was another minute before Memphis stopped laughing and even then he slapped Greg on the back, as though they were old buddies, "Damn Stud, I had no idea you couldn't hold your liquor."
Greg coughed again and didn't reply.
Memphis seemed to bore easily because he immediately broke into a new conversation topic, "So, Greggo, what's your story? Used to work in a DNA lab, now you're out there in the crime world, working valiantly to catch bad guys like me. Why the switch?" he asked as he took a drag of his own of the hard liquor. "What made you want to leave a nice cushy desk job for this shit? Whatever it was must not seem quite worth it now, does it?"
"None of your business," Greg grit out, then coughed again. He was sick of being scared of this sadistic man that was clearly trying to get a rise out of him, to use his pain as entertainment, and defiance was the only way he had of fighting back.
But Greg paid for his words when Memphis's fist struck him hard across the left eye. He fell to his side and stayed there for a minute, willing the shooting pain to subside as Memphis stood up, kicked him hard once in the stomach and then started to ramble.
"Now that was just disrespectful Greggo, I must say I'm shocked and disappointed. Here I am, trying to have a pleasant conversation and you don't even have the decency to answer my oh so polite question. I thought you had more respect than that," Memphis said, attempting to sound sad. "Try to clean up your act a bit, will ya?"
He showed his disappointment in Greg's actions by pouring the rest of the liquor out on the CSI's head and neck, drenching him with alcohol. Greg started in surprise and gasped when it first hit, but didn't have enough to energy to make much effort to get out of the way of the alcohol shower - he had accepted there was nowhere to go.
When he was done, Memphis chuckled as he watched Greg slowly push himself back into a sitting position and alcohol dripped from his now flat hair. Far across the room, Dallas came back from his phone call and yelled out.
"Memphis, what are you doing?" he asked without concern, just curiosity.
"Teaching our boy here some manners," Memphis answered happily.
Dallas shook his head and sat back down at his computer, "Just be careful and make sure he can still talk, they'll want proof of life before they make the switch."
Memphis frowned as he studied the bruises on Greg's neck and remembered how bad he had been coughing. He might not be able to talk eventually if he kept tormenting him, and Memphis was smart enough to give up the only entertainment he could find rather than risk losing their big payoff.
"Yeah, I was finished anyway," he said, turning around and sitting back down on the countertop.
Greg felt himself breathing better with his departure as he felt his body tremble with the residual fear of the encounter and from the discomfort of being soaked. He didn't know how long it would be until he would be freed, but he prayed it would be soon, before Memphis got bored again.
At his laptop, Dallas checked his watch; Nick had two more hours until they called.
TBC
My fantabulous, stupendous, amazing reviewers. Each word of a review is like oxygen to a fanfic writer that breathes life into their story. So thank you for giving my fic life.
anmani - thank you for the kind words. The internet access is getting a little better. I've learned that lunch hours are much better spent reading my reviews and posting than actually eating lunch, thus the chapter you have just read, hope you enjoyed.
rozzy07 - You've pretty much smacked that nail right on the head. Memphis is definitely into the pain, as I think is clear, and Dallas isn't exactly unnerved by it either, and if you like the pain as well, you are really going to enjoy the next chapter, it's definitely my favorite so far. LOTS of angst, but I won't ruin anything. I'm evil so I'll make you wait.
Divertiti - Korea? That's amazing! A fan would have been nice last week during the heat wave, but I think I'd settle for the Trans-Atlantic lunch. I'm posting during my lunch break and I'm starving, but these are the sacrifices I make for fanfiction and I don't mind. Very cool to have a fan so far away, huge wave to you all the way from Canada.
takimiromy - Wow, those genres aren't really that close to this fic at all so I'm very honored you're enjoying it so much, especially enough to review. Many thanks.
Sillie - Definitely. I love being able to drop into Labrat Central whenever I have a break at work and quickly download all the new stories because I know they will all be Greg centered. It's a beautiful thing really. I'm trying to get the posts up quickly, thanks for waiting.
Hikaru Kosuzaku - Hey, do not blame the innocent writer for the actions of her characters. Like I had any control over what those evil evil men did to poor Nick and Greg ... Okay, maybe I influenced them a little but you know you loooove it (evil grin). Here's hoping you got your summer reading done cause I know this probably doesn't count.
rikkairora - Kidnap stories are my favorite too. The angst is just so much more intense and you can drag it out for so much longer than other angst genres. Thank you for being willing to wait patiently, that is much appreciated, and many thanks for your kind words.
Espina Oscura - Thank you! You're the only one who mentioned the end line of the chapter and I was sooo proud of it, so thank you sooo much. I know it wasn't a cliff hanger but I felt it was one of my more clever lines so it meant a lot that you mentioned it. Oh, I would love to watch Grave Danger again. I can't believe I didn't tape it when it was on, I don't know what I was thinking.
new creation - first off, thank you for putting me on your lists, it's always an honor. And second, it's a nice thought and I'm flattered, but I really, really doubt the writers would use any fanfic writer's idea, no matter how ultra cool it would be. If they did though, I wonder if I would get royalties. Well thank you so much for the review and your nice words, bless you too.
rojaji - Glad you got the story working, sometimes the site can be weird about refreshing new chapters. I've had times when I couldn't even see my newest chapters that I already got reviews for, usually the best thing to do if it happens again is to leave the site, delete your history then go back and refresh the page, that works sometimes. And I did skip lunch again, which I guess you wouldn't mind since it means you get another chapter, but I'll be able to inhale something real quick before I go back to work.
shacky20 - I know I've said it before, but honestly, I can't thank you enough for the amazing reviews you leave me. It seems like we're always just thanking each other for something or other, but I really mean that, you obviously spend a lot of time on what you say and it all means so much, so thanks. As for your fic, I haven't gotten through the whole thing yet. As I said in my review (don't know if you got it or Kristen) I could only get the first four chapters downloaded before I had to get off the computer, but what I read I really enjoyed. Original and nice tension and bonding with the boys, very nice. So thank you for writing, and appreciating my style, I'll try to get the rest of Reclaiming Life read as soon as possible. And I'm not going to give anything away, but if you want some high tension Nick angst and Greg pain you are going to LOVE the next two chapters. I'll try to post them quickly but I'm still proofreading and want them to be just right. Thanks again for reading and reviewing like you do, you're definitely my most faithful reviewers. Goody.
kenzimone - lololololol, 'mancrush' that's awesome! Laughed so hard, but it's so accurate! Well, I knew I was insane, but splitting up our boys just seemed like the logical choice for all the reasons you pointed out. Nick can't protect Greg, Memphis can do whatever he wants, and Nick gets to feel deliciously helpless. It all comes together really to make a nice angst milkshake with enough straws for everyone. But I really didn't need the mental image of my muscled out bad guy as a little school girl, that's just scary. As for who's more excited, I think it's you, which is great, because I love your enthusiasm. As for the twistedness, it will continue in all following chapters. No worries.
Sandersfan – Hey, my dad's a teacher, that's cool. Probably where I get my tendency to use proper grammar, when I was little he corrected my speech all the time. I knew you were just kidding around, no problems there. As for the Greg angst, wait and see!
Emmithar – No alert? Really. How strange. This site is so finicky, but it's also so good for so many other reasons. Lol, well I find early life threatening injuries take away a little, and make the fic feel kind of draggy. In one of my early LotR fics I injured Legolas WAY too early and had to keep mentioning it over and over again, I didn't like it. But I'm not against life threatening injuries obviously, I just like to save them for the end.
Many wonderful and heartfelt thanks to all my other reviewers as well Silverblood666, foursidedtriangle, harryandbrennan-luver200317, SpiritedEstel, SandersKzaos, Gator-Girl, and robinyj. Sorry I don't have time to respond to you all.
Well there's some dialogue I really like in this chapter and then there's some stuff I was kind of just okay with, but for some reason couldn't improve (mostly the Warrick/Catherine stuff), so I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but the next one coming up is one of my favorites in the whole fic so that should make up for it. It's ransom call time and it's not pretty. Hope to see you all there! Later days, Goody!