The tension's so thick I can barely see. Oh wait, could it be … yes, there! It's the next chapter! It is! The next chapter of …
What it's Worth
By Goody
"No, no," Nick muttered, hands changing positions to pound on Memphis's chest to attempt resuscitation and try to force his heart to keep beating, "Where is he? You can't die, please you can't die, you have to tell me where he is."
Nick continued compressions on Memphis's chest, pushing far too hard and doing too many, too fast, but he couldn't think clearly at the moment. The only man who knew how to find Greg was dead, which meant almost no hope of finding him before he froze to death and Nick didn't want to face that.
"Live. Wake up, please," he said one last time before a hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back, standing him up.
"Nick, stop, he's gone. Come on, there's nothing you can do," Brass told him calmly as he led him away from the corpse.
"He didn't tell me how to find him, I don't know where Greg is. Jim, we have no way to find him, he's just going to freeze to death in some cooler and it's all …."
As Nick allowed himself to be led away, he looked down at the blood on his hands - it might as well have been Greg's. He looked up when he was mid-sentence and saw the SWAT team officer that had killed Memphis coming over.
"You! What did you do? What did you do! You killed him! You son of a bitch! He's dead! We can't find him! We don't know where he is!" Nick didn't just scream, he lunged at the man, so angry and scared he was looking for a reason to attack someone.
Brass held him back with the help of another officer, while the man who had fired put up his hands and backed away.
"Hey!" the man said, obviously not believing he'd done anything wrong and was offended by Nick's outburst.
"Nick, calm down, it's not his fault. We fire when fired upon, that's the rule. He didn't do anything wrong," Brass said in the man's defence, always there to protect his own when he felt it was needed.
"Nothing wrong? He killed the only man who knows where Greg is. He's going to die and he killed him!" Nick yelled again and this time got close enough to shove the officer, covering the man's chest in blood.
"Calm down," Brass demanded again, more forcefully.
Nick didn't seem like he would, but the voice behind him stopped him dead and made him return to reality.
"Nick? Are y…you still there?" Greg was back on the walkie-talkie. Nick turned around and picked it up from where he had dropped it when he caught Memphis.
He was about to answer, but choked as he hit the talk button and couldn't speak.
How do you tell someone who's counting on you that you can't save them?
"N… Nick? Anyone? Hello?" Greg continued, becoming more scared.
Nick stayed on one knee and closed his eyes, completely oblivious to the cops surrounding him and securing the room.
"Greg, I'm still here," he finally responded, tense and afraid.
"What's g…going on?" Greg asked since Nick had been gone a long time. His voice was low and tight since the cold made it so uncomfortable to move or use any unnecessary energy.
"Greg we can't … Memphis is dead," Nick replied, wondering if he would have to say more.
"That's no real loss, t…trust me," Greg said, sounding almost relieved.
"No, G, he tried to shoot a SWAT guy, they had to fire back. He never told us where you are," Nick continued. There was a pause; he could almost see Greg realizing what this meant, but Nick said it aloud anyway, "We don't exactly know how to find you."
"Dallas?" Greg asked hopefully.
Nick shook his head, and replied apologetically, "He's not here, we don't know where he is."
"So I'm g…going to die in here," Greg said as a fact more than a question.
"No Greg, no, we're going to find you, I promise," Nick let the button go, "I just don't know how."
A voice from across the room stole his attention.
"Nick!" It was Grissom and the rest of the team.
"Hold on one second Greg, all the guys are coming in now, we'll figure out something," Nick promised as he watched Sara, Catherine and Warrick race over, with Grissom leading.
"We heard everything," Grissom said when they were face to face and then reached out his hand, "Let me talk to him."
"Sure," Nick said handing it over, but somehow felt reluctant to give up his only link to Greg.
"Greg, it's Grissom," he started off.
"Hey b…boss, what's g…going on?" Greg answered.
Grissom shook his head, "Listen Greg, we're going to find you, but we need your help. Can you think of anything that might help us figure out where you are?"
"N…not really," Greg replied, "But admittedly, I'm n…not at my best r…right now."
"Did you see anything when they brought you there?"
"No."
"What about the building you're in now, what does it look like?" Grissom asked, fishing for anything useful.
"I d…don't know, I was blindf..folded," Greg answered, not feeling very useful. "All I kn…know is I was in a b…big room, went through a s…swinging door and then here."
Warrick stood beside Nick and made a suggestion, "Couldn't we just track the talkie signal?"
Nick shook his head having already considered it, "It's a general frequency, we'd never isolate it, he could be anywhere within a hundred mile radius."
Sara grabbed the walkie-talkie when it appeared Grissom couldn't think of another question, "Greg, how long was the drive from where you left Nick to where you are now?"
"Sara? T…that you?" Greg asked, just happy to hear friendly voices again after these hours of hell.
"Yeah Greg, it's me. How long was it?" she asked again, needing an answer.
"I d…don't know, I was unconscious," Greg said very quietly as he started shivering more severely.
"Uh," Sara groaned, then lifted the radio again, "Well, how long have you been in there?"
"Feels like a few hours, but m…maybe twenty-five minutes," Greg said, unsure without a watch.
"And this Memphis guy is the one who put you there?"
"Yeah," Greg verified.
Cops and CSIs alike were now listening closely to the conversation, waiting for information that would put them into action.
"That's great Greg," Sara told him.
"Okay, assuming he left the first location just after locking Greg in, at the speed limit, twenty-five minutes gives us a maximum of about a thirty mile radius from here, in all directions," Warrick said, doing the math in his head.
"It's a start," Catherine added.
"It sure is," Grissom said, taking charge and shouting, "Okay, everyone get to your vehicles and take a direction with your sirens on as loud as possible. Sara, tell Greg to listen for any sirens, then we'll know if we're close."
"Greg? You still there? You have to listen. We're all going to drive around with our sirens on, and you have to listen closely and tell us if you hear them," Sara explained loudly and clear to make sure he understood.
"Yeah, I get it. T…thanks," Greg replied. "Hey Sara …"
"Yeah Greg?" Sara asked.
"What are you w…wearing?" Greg asked; she could almost see the cocky smirk. She smiled and rolled her eyes.
"Why don't you just listen and concentrate on how we can find you? Then we'll talk about my wardrobe," Sara replied.
"Deal," Greg said. "But I'm going to h…hold you to that."
By now all the cops and CSIs were heading for their cars and Grissom was once again giving out the orders.
"Catherine, Warrick, I need you outside, the cops found this guy's car around back, process it, find us something to track down where Greg is. Sara, I'm sorry, I need you to go back to the lab, we need someone to access any databases that may help us, start with walk in freezers, all the ones in Vegas. Nick, you're with me, we're on siren duty."
"Sure," Nick said, staying put as everyone else left to start their tasks, any of which could lead to Greg's location.
Just as Sara reached the door, the walkie-talkie came alive again, "S...sara?"
"I'm still here Greg," she answered. His voice was getting weaker. "The whole department's working on this. We're going to find you, I promise."
"So I k…keep being told. Can I t…talk to Nick again?" Greg asked, sounding apologetic that he obviously preferred one friend over another, but Nick gave him the most comfort.
Sara smiled, "Yeah, sure. Nick!" she called out, waving the radio. "He wants you."
Nick came over immediately and took the walkie-talkie. He and Grissom were the last to leave the building and he was touched to see so many people trying so hard to find the former lab tech.
"G, I'm back. What's up?" he asked, hoping Greg had thought of something to help.
"Hey, w…what's Sara wearing?" Greg asked, smiling to himself. It was not what most people would have asked. Most people would be deathly afraid, confessing their sins or lamenting old loves and past regrets. But Greg was not most people. He was determined not to spend what may be his last minutes of life in fear and regret, he would stay himself and not be afraid of what he couldn't control.
Realizing this, it still hurt Nick to laugh, "G, this isn't really the time."
"H…humor me," Greg requested.
"You'll see when we find you," Nick said strongly, then turned to Grissom who was walking beside him. "How long do you think he has?"
Grissom had been considering that, "From Greg's size and weight, and considering he already sounds hypothermic, I'd say about an hour."
Nick cringed; he hadn't wanted to hear that. They both got in the car and began to drive north, sirens blaring.
"I don't h…hear anything," Greg announced. "But these w…walls are pretty thick. I don't t…think I would anyway."
"I know Greggo, we need more to go on. What about sounds? Did you hear anything helpful, in the car or outside the building?" Nick asked, needing more clues.
"Yeah … n…nothing," Greg said thoughtfully.
"No, G, I asked if you heard anything," Nick repeated, louder.
Greg sighed, "I d…did. There was nothing. N…no traffic or p…people. It was r…really quiet, even for the morning."
In the freezer, Greg was sitting in the farthest corner in as small a ball as possible. He clung desperately to the walkie-talkie as his only comfort and tried to keep his mind off how cold he was, how bad he was shivering and how he couldn't feel his fingers and face anymore.
In the car, Nick and Grissom discussed what this could mean.
"There's nothing that deserted around here," Nick said as they drove through the relatively crowded and populated streets.
"He must be outside city limits then," Grissom suggested. "If we keep going north, we'll pass into the more secluded roads after about twenty miles. West, it's about the same. But we definitely shouldn't be going east or south, that takes us deeper into the city."
"Sounds good," Nick replied, picking up the radio that connected them to the other police cars. "This is CSI Stokes, all units coordinate search in north or western directions, any low traffic, low population areas. Repeat, north or western directions."
"D…did that help?" Greg asked.
Nick switched radios, "Yeah G, you're doing great, we're narrowing it down. It'll just be a little longer, hold on."
"N…no problem. Hey my f…fingers don't even hurt anymore," Greg answered optimistically.
"That's great, I'm glad to hear that," Nick said, but couldn't help continuing to find out more about what Greg had gone through.
"What exactly happened to them G?" Nick had to ask softly.
Greg tried to hide the emotion in his voice, but failed, as his voice stuttered worse. The cold was causing his speech to become slurred and a haze was forming in his mind, making it a struggle to force out each word, "M…memphis. Hammer first … th…then … then the …knife…."
Both Nick and Grissom's concern managed to deepen even more upon hearing this.
"A knife? Greg, what happened with the knife? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?" Nick asked, trying to sound calm, though he was far from feeling that way.
"Maybe … I'm t…tired," Greg announced, his eyelids fighting to close. "G…getting hard to … to think."
Nick felt himself starting to panic, "Greg, don't fall asleep. You have to stay awake, trust me on this."
Greg shook his head a little but it barely helped, "I'm t…trying."
"Get him to sing to you."
The seemingly random comment came from Grissom and Nick shot him the confused glance he thought it deserved.
"What?"
"Get him to sing to you, something upbeat. It will keep him awake and focus him, force his brain to keep functioning," Grissom explained and though Nick was rolling his eyes, he also took the suggestion to heart.
"Greg, I want you to sing for me," he requested slowly, making sure Greg understood.
Alone in the cold, Greg laughed honestly as he hit reply, "S…sorry, I don't know any c…country."
"I don't care, sing me anything. Something upbeat, just stay awake and sing me something," Nick requested again, his voice cheerful and energetic, hoping it would help invigorate life into Greg.
Even as he shook his head, Greg was trying to pull up some lyrics and picked the last thing he had heard on the radio, "H…hear the sound of the falling rain, Coming down like an Armageddon f…flame, The shame, The one who died without a name. Hear the dogs barking out of key …"
"This is upbeat?" Grissom asked sceptically.
Nick shrugged, "It's probably the Backstreet Boys equivalent of his music collection. Sounds like it's working though."
Just as Greg hit the chorus Nick's phone rang. He chanced answering it since Greg was still going strong.
"Stokes."
"Nick, it's Sara. I called ahead and had Archie start the search on walk-in freezers and coolers. There's more than 400 in Vegas alone, we need something else to go on," she told him.
"All right, hold on. I'll talk to Greg," he switched radios again. "Greg? You still there?"
The reply was slower than usual. Greg had stopped singing a moment ago when he couldn't remember the next line and now the previous lyrics were unclear as well. He was obviously losing focus as his temperature dropped and his answers were getting shorter as well, "Yeah."
"Greg, I know you won't want to, and it's going to be hard, but I need you to stand up and walk around the freezer. Check all the walls, the doors, the cooling units, and try to find us anything with a brand name on it, or a serial number. Anything to help us track you, can you do that?" Nick asked loudly, noticing the slight change in Greg's response.
"M…maybe, I can t…try," Greg promised, not sure if he could even move his legs, he was so cold.
"Do or do not, Greg, there is no try," Nick replied, trying to wake him up again.
Greg actually laughed, "You're such a c…closet Star Wars g…geek."
"Yeah and you tell anyone and I might just have to leave you in there," Nick teased, then became serious. "But I really do need you to get up Greg, find something with a code or name on it that we can follow. You can do it."
"Yeah, I'll h…have to."
Greg took a deep breath and then slowly pushed himself up into a standing position, still leaning against the wall. He felt much more exposed to the cold and gasped as he hunched over, still shivering badly as he started to walk with short, uncomfortable steps.
"Kay, I'm l…looking," Greg said very quietly.
"That's great, be sure to check everywhere," Nick replied.
When Greg reached the door he collapsed against it, uncoordinated and shivering so badly he couldn't hold himself up. He looked up and down the huge steel frame, all the corners and the sides.
It was bare.
"There's n…nothing on the door. T…the walls look bare too, s…sorry," Greg said sincerely as he felt himself falling back to the floor in an attempt to escape the cold once more.
"No, G, don't apologize, please don't. It's not your fault, I know you're doing your best," Nick answered.
Greg was sitting hunched on his knees now, staring at the walkie-talkie as he couldn't seem to get his fingers to respond to hit reply.
In the car, Grissom turned to Nick, "Tell him to find the cooling unit, there's usually a brand name on there somewhere."
"All right. Greg, Grissom thinks there might be something on the cooling unit. Can you find that and look?" A pause that was too long. "Greg? Greg can you hear me? Please, G, if you can hear me, answer! Greg, you have to get up and find the cooling unit. Do you understand? Greg!"
While Nick panicked, Greg heard every word. He could see the vent that was filling the room with the freezing air. It was on the far wall, and right now he was concentrating on how he would get there, so much so that he couldn't answer Nick. He could barely stand up since his body was numb and his mind uncooperative, but still he started awkwardly straight across the room.
"Greg! Greg, don't give up. Talk to me!" Nick continued pleading.
Greg was nearly at the vent, still stumbling. It was close to the floor and he decided to just let himself fall. He stayed there a moment, shivering and gasping freezing air that froze his nostrils and mouth. The walkie-talkie fell out of his hand, but he could still hear Nick's voice coming through. Struggling slowly onto his knees, he forced himself to stay where he was, the coldest part of the freezer. He was eyelevel with the vent now and saw no words or symbols, but there was a layer of ice on the bottom. Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he wiped the frost away and fell to the floor again, a shaking hand reaching for the walkie-talkie once more.
"Greg! Please answer me G," Nick begged a final time.
Beside him, Grissom frowned, "Nicky, he may have lost consciousness."
Nick didn't want to consider it, and was about to hit talk again, when the static disappeared, meaning the other end was trying to get through.
"EZ-Freeze 3200," Greg grit out, trying very hard to keep his teeth from chattering.
"Greg! That's great. You're doing amazing Greg," Nick picked up his cell phone, beyond relieved. "Sara?"
"Yeah, I'm still here, I'm pulling into the lab now," she replied.
"When you get in there look up all the companies that purchased an EZ-Freeze 3200 and find out where they are," Nick told her, not having to explain why.
"I'm on it," Sara promised and hung up as she ran into the building at full speed.
Nick's attention was immediately brought back to the walkie-talkie, "Greg, Sara's working on finding you and we'll be there the second she does, okay? Greg?"
A pause. Greg was pulling himself back into his old corner where he curled up tightly. The shivering was lessening and the cold didn't seem nearly as severe as before.
"Nick, it's not so bad anymore. Getting k…kind of warm," Greg said dreamily, eyelids yearning to be closed.
"It sounds like he stopped shaking. He's probably going to pass out soon, try to keep him awake," Grissom suggested, eyes never leaving the road or the buildings on it. They were both alertly looking for any secluded building that could have freezers, but none were popping out at them.
"Greg, listen to me, stay awake," Nick started, but Greg wasn't done and wouldn't release the talk button. Nick could only barely hear what Greg was saying; his voice had grown even weaker and he couldn't hold the walkie talkie up anymore. Putting the radio to his ear Nick could hear better and realized that Greg was singing again, something much slower and more intense than before.
"Wake me up, when September ends …"
When he finished off one chorus he started speaking louder and slower, his voice getting more slurred as his mind wandered aimlessly.
"I always wanted to be a rock star. In high school I was too geeky, couldn't be in a band if you like chess … or if you wear braces, it's like an unwritten rule. Should be written down though … Nick, write that down for me. But I liked where I was now, out of the lab … I was a Crime Scene Investigator. Doing something … doing something great. I caught bad guys, I put away murderers, cleaned up the street. I'm like Batman … yeah, I'm Batman."
He laughed at his own joke for a moment, still not releasing the talk button, and then his mind shifted again and his rambling became eerily serious and coherent.
"Nick, if you don't find me, it's not your fault, it's no one's fault. You did everything you could so don't beat yourself up…. You can't save everyone," Greg spoke slowly but with the clarity that came with one's final moments of life. "And don't shut everyone out, deal with it, let them help. You don't open up easily, so don't push everyone away because of me."
Nick had one hand over his face, trying to compose himself as he listened to what Greg believed would be his final words.
"Thank everyone, for supporting me, and making me part of the team. That meant a lot… Tell Sara she's per…perfect how she is and men are stupid not to want her. Tell Grissom he's stupid… and also the smartest guy I know…. Let C…Catherine know I never would have made it anywhere without her support, and uh thank … thank Warrick for always taking the time to be patient with me in the field, and for teaching me to be slick… And tell yourself thanks for being an awesome friend …and for accepting me, … even when I was weird … or when I pissed you off… you never made me feel like an outsider … just one of the team… the team … gonna miss the team." There was a long silence, and then a barely audible, whispered voice, spoke one last time, "Bye Nick."
"Greg? Greg, no! Talk to me! Don't give up G, please, we're so close," Nick said, to himself and Greg.
Almost fifteen miles away Greg's finger fell off the talk button and his eyelids won the battle and finally closed as his head tipped forward to lean against his knees, with Nick's voice still echoing in his ear.
"Greg, don't do this, please answer me. Greg? God, don't give up," Nick begged, but he would get no response. "Greg! Talk to me! Greg!"
Grissom had listened to all of this silently, eyes forward, trying to give Nick and Greg as much privacy as possible in the confined space, but now he had to talk.
"Nick, he's not going to answer," Grissom had to tell him.
There were beginnings of tears of denial, rage and grief in Nick's eyes when he turned to his boss, "He's still alive Gris, he has to be."
"I know Nick, right now he's most likely just passed out," Grissom agreed, staying calm.
"How long until he …?" Nick couldn't finish the question.
Grissom hated to answer, "It must be colder than I thought in there, if he's already passed out he could die within minutes."
Nick's jaw dropped open, horrified, "What? No, no, that can't be right."
"It's okay, we'll find him. Even if we're late, people whose hearts stop in extreme cold can often be resuscitated successfully even twenty or thirty minutes afterwards. There are some cases of people living even after hours," Grissom pointed out optimistically.
Before Nick replied, his phone rang again. Flipping it open, he knew who it was, "Sara, please tell me you have something."
"The EZ-Freeze 3200 is a fairly newer model, there are only a few bought in the Vegas area so far. I'm mapping out the addresses now of the ones in our search region. We have one at Driscoll Street in Manelli's Restaurant, one in a grocery store on Faneth and the last one was for Hindrick Meat Packing on Sussex, I've never heard of it ... Nick it's under construction!" she finished excitedly as she read the list.
"Like the background on that picture. That's the one then," Nick agreed enthusiastically and yelled at Grissom, "Hindrick Meat Packing on Sussex, it's under construction."
"Thank god. We're going in the right direction but we're still more than ten minutes away," Grissom replied, "Call the other units, someone may be closer."
Nick nodded and reached for the radio, "Sara, we're on our way there, you're amazing. I'll call you when we find anything."
"Just find Greg, don't worry about calling anyone," Sara suggested and then hung up. Nick did the same and made the general broadcast.
"All units, this is CSI Stokes, we have a likely location on our target, it's Hindrick Meat Packing on Sussex road, north of the city. Is anyone in proximity? Repeat, Hindrick Meat Packing on Sussex road, is anyone in proximity?"
There was a moment of static as they waited for replies. Three separate cars reported they were nearby, heading in the same direction as Nick and Grissom, but no one was closer than the CSIs.
"It sounds like we'll be getting there first. All units meet us there for backup and send in medical help as well," Nick requested and put the radio down. Then he picked up the walkie-talkie for a last time, "Greg? Greg I know you probably can't hear me, but you have to hold on, okay? We know where you are, we're coming to get you, I promise, and I'm gonna keep it this time. We'll be there in a few minutes, just hold on. I'm coming. I swear to you, I'll be there."
He finished quietly, not sure if he was promising himself or Greg, and then he could only sit impatiently as Grissom tore through the streets, heedless of the speed limit or stop signs. They were only suggestions at times like these.
"Nick, do you have your seatbelt on?" Grissom asked calmly, never taking his eyes off the road.
"I can in …whoa!" Before Nick could even pull the belt across his chest Grissom had taken a sharp turn at full speed, knocking Nick into the passenger door. He winced and as soon as they straightened out, reached for the seatbelt and fastened himself in tightly.
"Sorry," Grissom said absently.
Nick shook his head, "No, it's okay. Whatever you gotta do."
"Good to know," Grissom commented, right before pulling another sharp turn that threw Nick in the opposite direction this time.
"Geez Grissom, but we're not going to do Greg any good if we become part of the asphalt on the way," Nick exclaimed, amazed his normally reserved boss was driving so insanely. Then a small black blur on the road caught his attention. "Cat!"
Grissom swerved, the car tilted slightly, the cat ran away, Grissom regained control and they were going full speed once more.
"It's like driving your own rollercoaster," Grissom remarked thoughtfully. "It's kind of exhilarating."
"Just don't coast us into a tree and I'm fine," Nick said, clutching the door handle.
Speeding and cutting corners on the relatively isolated roads, they managed to make the drive in just over ten minutes. As each second ticked by Nick's panic and worry went up a notch and when they finally had the Hindrick Meat Packing building in sight he nearly leapt out of the car.
"There. Grissom, there it is!" he exclaimed, pointing as if his boss could have missed it.
"I see it," Grissom assured him, turning surprisingly early. The driveway and parking lot were at the far side of the building and it was much faster to cut across the surrounding desert. Nick had no objections and waited with his fingers wrapped around the door handle as the building slowly came closer.
"There's the door. Stop there," Nick suggested. Grissom agreed and brought the car to a halt as close to the door as possible, two tires up on the curb.
Nick was gone and headed inside before he had a chance to turn off the ignition.
"Nicky, wait!" Grissom cautioned, drawing his gun as he jumped out to follow. They hadn't found Dallas yet after all, he could very well be waiting inside.
But Nick would not slow down. He rushed through the front doors, adrenaline making him short of breath, and stopped to take in his surroundings. It was a large uncompleted room, the walls were almost finished and it looked like countertops and machinery were being installed, but there was no sign of a freezer of any kind.
"Greg! Greg!" he yelled as he moved farther into the room, still oblivious to the fact that he could be walking into danger.
It was then Grissom caught up, coming swiftly through the front glass door, but then not straying far from it.
He had his gun drawn low and was clearly wary, "Nick, you have to slow down, we don't know who else could be here."
"Greg's here, that's all I care about," Nick replied, walking across the room. There was a tall metal pole near the far wall that looked familiar. It was the same one as in the photo the kidnappers had sent them. Nick could tell by the drying pool of liquid and the blood spatter halfway up the pole's length, dripping down. As he knelt down to touch the liquid he could tell it was alcohol. Turning, he saw that on this side the room branched off into a corridor with what looked like a swinging door at the end.
Without a second thought he ran towards the corridor at full speed. Grissom saw him take off and cursed, but followed, gun still drawn.
When Nick passed through the swinging door the hallway turned right and a few meters away stood a beautiful, cold steel door. They had been right. This was it.
The first thing Nick did was bang on the hard steel, calling Greg's name.
"Greg! Greg, we're here!" he shouted, simultaneously relieved and terrified. He pulled on the door handle and cursed when it wouldn't budge. Then he saw the keypad further along the wall and remembered the code Memphis had given him. Hands shaking, he pulled the small piece of paper out of his pocket.
"2 6 9 3 0," Nick repeated each number as he punched it into the keypad. Just as he hit enter, Grissom came in, gun held low. His eyes did a quick sweep of the hallway for danger, but then his focus immediately switched to the same door that had grabbed Nick's attention. They both knew Greg was on the other side, slowly dying, freezing, and it was a miracle they had found him at all. If only they weren't too late.
Nick heard Grissom follow him, but didn't turn as he hit the last button. The previously glowing keypad turned black and he hoped that was a good sign as his hands quickly wrapped around the door handle once more. He pulled up a few times, then pushed down, and then pulled again but nothing happened. He kept pulling frantically but there was nothing.
Terrified, Nick realized that Memphis had lied. The code didn't work and the door was still locked.
TBC
Ha! I did it again! Really I'm just thankful that none of you know where I really live or else I might fear for my life. But since this is cyberspace I can leave evil cliffies without consequences. Muahahahaha.
But even without consequences I must thank my fantabulous reviewers.
Shacky20 – lolololol, "he has no body fat" – so true but so hilarious. Oh, that made my day, but really, he doesn't last long in that freezer, and though the EXTREME cold is one reason, his slight build is the other. Our poor Greggo, can't seem to put on the pounds. Hope you liked mad Nick, although he kind of got quickly overshadowed by concerned Nick, but he was pretty upset for a minute there. Always love getting your reviews.
GreggoAddict – Ah, thank you. Hmm, freeze to death? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Only time will tell. I appreciate your understanding, but I do feel bad when I can't respond to everyone. Unfortunately lunch hours are only so long.
New creation – You seem to be the only one happy Memphis is dead, a lot of people apparently will miss him. I'm happy the length was good, and yes you did ask for an update, hope this didn't take too long.
Jackie – Memphis was definitely my creepiest character to date, especially since I can't take credit for Nigel Crane since he's from the show and I really enjoyed writing him, glad everyone seemed to like him. A happy ending? Of a sort, but it takes a while to get there.
Footymad – why thank you, I did a lot of scene rearrangements with that last chapter so I'm glad to hear it flowed so well.
Sillie – lol, I appreciate the effort, but it's a bit hard to take your threatening look seriously when your username is Sillie. Sorry. It was mean though, sorry again.
Emmithar – You were right about the general area of the radio, but I chose to make it very general, just to make him hard to track, I hope it still sounded reasonable. Thanks for reviewing.
James' Grl – You're probably the only one who liked the ending and didn't complain about the cliffie, so thank you. It was my fave chapter too, very action packed and fun to write. Thanks for writing.
Red Tigress – Here's hoping you have another shirt, because it will be another chapter before The Greg is even seen. Sorry, and there's another evil cliffie so feel free to shake your fist again. Thanks for reviewing.
Rozzy07 – You've got all the questions, but I'm not giving the answers, you'll just have to wait and see. Sorry I killed Memphis but it was necessary for the sake of more Greg angst, he was a noble sacrifice. That would be a good middle name, I like it better than my own actually, I've never felt like a Margaret. Love hearing from you.
Miki – Well, that was original. A 'love war'. Sure, why not? Hope you're still alive, thanks for writing.
Talifiney – Ah, thank you. I was going for a different kind of angst with this fic and I'm glad I'm succeeding thus far. It's always good to hear what I'm doing right and what people like, so thank you. Oh updating, the bane of a fanfic writer's existence. But that is what we must do for our work. Thank you for reviewing.
Guardian6 – Yes, I love making people's days. And I realize the cliffie was a new extreme of evil, and this one's probably not much better, but I hope you can bear with. I'm working on the update thing. Thanks for the congrats, I was very excited to be nominated.
Bobskiwatin – I updated as soon as I could – begging doesn't really help, but it was a nice gesture. Thanks for reviewing,
Hestia82 – Well hopefully I'm not giving people such as yourselves ideas on how to commit the perfect crime, after all, it didn't work out so well for Memphis. Come to think of it Greg's not doing that great either. Good to know the storyline is interesting, I like to be original. Don't kidnap anyone I know, thanks for writing.
Kenzimone – Sorry about Memphis, but his purpose was served and I wanted him dead! Dead I say! Oh my god, I just seem to dredge up old memories for everyone. You're my second reviewer who has actually been through the stuff I did to Greg. I hope your nails grew back all right, though you don't seem too traumatised from the experience. Yeah, I did kind of hold back on the Memphis/Greg scenes and there's a lot of reasons. I was going to do more but thought of a lot of stuff I wanted to do in later chapters that wouldn't really fit in otherwise and just kind of veered off course, but I agree, a lot was unresolved between those two. I enjoyed that line as well, always love hearing from you, thanks for reviewing.
Radioactive Raccoony – lol, sorry I seem to have ruined your enjoyment of cliffies. Hope the update was fast enough, thank you for reviewing.
Analisa the Great – I'm glad I could suck you into the genre, thank you so much for reviewing and even reading if you don't usually enjoy these things. That means a lot.
As I've said, I love all my reviewers, thank you so much for writing, each word means so much. I'll try to update as soon as possible but I'm going back to university soon and might not have internet for awhile, but I will try my best. Later days, Goody.