A/N: Ah, I bet you thought I'd forgotten hadn't you? Well you were right actually! I thought I'd posted the final chapter but then realised I hadn't even uploaded it. Doh! Well, here's the conclusion.

Greg lay shivering on the bed, enduring an agonising wait for the test results, the nurse smiled reassuringly at him; it was such a fake smile. He knew they all pitied him, it was written on their faces, the doctors, the nurses. Poor kid! He'd probably be better off if he had died. He wrung his hands nervously as staff walked in and out of his room, busily. The tests themselves had been awful being prodded and probed by complete strangers. The same stern looking doctor who had conducted the examination walked in, a very serious expression on his face.

He cleared his throat "Mr Sanders"

Greg could barely dare to look up at his face, he was so scared. Doctor Martin's face suddenly broke out into a huge grin. "Mr Sanders you are completely clear"

Greg thought he hadn't heard him right "What?" He asked stupidly

"All tests came back negative, you are clear of having any sexually transmitted infections, that includes HIV"

Greg sat back in disbelief; he had convinced himself he was infected. He remembered little about the attack, but feared the worst.

"What about the drugs or the virus?"

The grin visibly waned "Ah, the drugs that were injected into you, they've mixed in your blood stream"

"What does that mean?" Greg asked alarmed

"It means you will feel the affects of the drugs for some days, drowsiness, nausea, vomiting. The doctor reeled off the symptoms. "Therefore it would be best if you stayed here until they wear off, so we can keep an eye on you"

"Oh" Greg said dejectedly

"Hey look on the bright side kid! At least you're clean and alive"

Again Greg found himself wondering if it would have better had he never been found.

"You should get some rest now, Greg, the police want to speak to you and you have visitors waiting to see you, I told them you need to sleep"

Greg nodded at him gratefully, he wasn't sure if he was ready to see Nick and the rest of the team just yet and he certainly wasn't up to facing a police interrogation! The nurse fluffed his pillows, doing her best to make sure the patient was absolutely comfortable.

"Can I get you anything Mr Sanders?" She smiled

Greg attempted to smile back, in normal circumstances he would be flirting like mad with the pretty young blond nurse but he barely noticed her beauty and in actual fact was ashamed, ashamed of his ugly scars on his face and arms, his off colour skin, his bruises and bandaged head. He adjusted his position the best he could so the 'good side' of his face was shown. "No thank you"

She went to shut the blinds to allow him some privacy and walked outside the door about to switch the light off when he suddenly called her to

"Why is that policeman stood outside?" He questioned alarmed, catching sight of the uniformed officer stationed outside his room. "Am I in danger?" He demanded.

The nurse looked uncomfortable for a second before that smile that was intended to be reassuring returned "Oh don't worry about him honey, he's just there as a precaution"

There was something in the way she said it, that made fear tighten around Greg's chest again, there was something they weren't telling him about, he was sure of it, he moved around on the bed until he could get as comfortable as humanly possible with a bruised and battered body, he once again fell into a restless slumber.

The next morning, Greg was feeling marginally better and reluctantly allowed permission for the police to talk to him, they asked him so many questions that he found difficult to answer "Did he know of any accomplice?" "Did Simmonds ever communicate to anybody else?" "What exactly happened when he was in captivity?" The questions slowly got more obtrusive, more probing. Catherine who was overseeing the meeting saw Greg was getting increasingly more and more uncomfortable with the questions, squirming in the bed. The questions were becoming more distressing to Greg, he looked at her sorrowfully, his eyes about to fill with tears. She snapped.

"Ok that's it! He is not emotionally ready for this kind of questioning!" she said glaring angrily at the insensitive policewoman. The woman snapped her notebook shut with an irate clip. "Very well" She sniffed leaving the room.

"Thanks Catherine" He said quietly "But I could have continued"

"That was out of order! The way they were speaking to you" She said in disgust "They were speaking to you more like you were some kind of suspect rather than a" She faltered.

"You can say it Catherine" Greg interrupted "A victim, that's what I am, a weak pathetic victim, no point trying to cover it up" He said it so sadly, so dejectedly, resenting the fact that this was all that was left of him. A pitied ugly victim.

"Oh Greg" She sighed, wishing she could do anything to help him, him overcome this nightmare.

"Will you um send the others in now?" He requested of her "I'm ready to see them"

"Yes" She brightened " Nick Sara and Warrick are really looking forward to seeing you, I'll let them know that you are ready" She left the room abruptly, giving Greg time to mentally prepare, they were not just his team mates they were his friends so why was he so scared of seeing them?

The broad shoulders of Warrick entered first followed by a smiling Sara and finally Nick. Greg couldn't help but be shocked at his appearance, the burns on his arms and singed hair, the slight limp in his walk. "Hey man" the Texan grinned "It's so good to see you"

Greg tried to be bright, he tried to force a smile onto his broken face, and he failed miserably. He burst in to tears.

"Oh god Nick not you too! Look what he did to you, I'm so sorry"

"Hey! What's the tear for Greggo? No apologies needed man, what have you got to be sorry for"

"I'm sorry for being so weak" He said harshly "for allowing myself to be kidnapped so easily and dragging you into this mess in which you almost died"

Nick was momentarily stunned so Sara answered

"Where's this come from Greg?" She said astonished "You're not weak Greg, far from it, you're the strongest person I know, he was a psychopath no-one could have stopped him"

"It was my fault" He continued miserably "My fault that all those people died, that you all almost died" He said nodding at Nick, Warrick and Sara. "I befriended him"

"Greg stop this now!" Nick said trying to fight back tears "This is not your fault, blaming yourself isn't going to help anyone" He said it a lot harsher than he had planned, Greg looked at him.

"I can't help it" he sobbed "I hate what he's done to me, what's he taken away, I'm just a weak victim to be pitied, I should have died maybe things would have been easier for everyone, sure there would have been mourning but you'd get over it, find a new lab tech to hassle, at least you wouldn't have to deal with pathetic old me, being a burden, jumping at every little bang, fearing to step outside in the dark, not daring to answer the phone…"

His horrific speech was stopped by a stinging blow to his left cheek; he looked up stunned at the source of the blow. Sara was staring down in disbelief at her still throbbing palm, she didn't ever plan to hit him, it was a light slap but it still stunned everyone in the room.

"Just stop it, stop talking about this" She cried

The slap had the desired effect, Greg the realisation hitting him sobbed uncontrollably now. "I'm sorry" he repeated "so so sorry" Sara reached out to touch him, but Greg stiffened at her hand on his cheek.

"No don't"

"Greg I"

"No please just go" He said to all of them. Warrick Nick and Sara looked sorrowfully at him, not wanting to leave him in this state

"Just go" He turned on his side so they couldn't see his face, devastated, the three CSI's left. They joined Catherine and Grissom outside, and looked through the window.

As they looked at their destroyed colleague lying in his hospital bed, tears tracing a silent path down his face, they were all struck by the same thought. The Greg Sanders they once knew was gone, all that remained was a shadow of that man, Simmonds may have failed to have taken his life away but he had taken his soul.

Sara turned to Grissom, tears burning at the back of her eyes.

"What if he never gets better?" She said quietly

Grissom didn't miss a beat, "He will, he has to" His voice was full of confidence but Grissom's eyes were far from certain.

One Month Later

Why couldn't he see anything? His eyes were wide open but the blackness still greeted him.

"I'm blind" he panicked, bringing his hands up to his face, but he couldn't, they were pinned firmly behind his back. He realised his situation almost immediately, it all came rushing back. Not blind but blindfolded and suddenly 'he' was there. His sticky hands were pawing all over his chest. His unpleasant breath, he was breathing all over him, it reeked of alcohol and tobacco. Greg's lips were suddenly rudely forced open, a protruding tongue danced with his own. Greg wanted to gag, tried to pull away, impossible. The hands continued to wander restlessly, probing areas that didn't want probing.

"Don't!" Greg tried to be forceful. In his mind he screamed it; in reality it was nothing more than a pitiful whisper. His attacker chuckled quietly, moving to nibble on Greg's earlobe, tenderly licking and sucking not unlike a lover but he was no lover. Greg's whimpering protests proved as much. He stopped very suddenly, pulled away then breathed in close to his ear.

"I will always be with you Greg, remember that"

"NOOOOO!" Greg's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest; he took several seconds to take in his surroundings. The comforting surroundings of his own bedroom greeted him, he glanced down at his wrists, free, he was free. Sighing, he sank back down into the soft pillows on his bed, it was his third flashback in as many days but this one was different somehow. It was too real; he could almost feel that breath on him once more, could feel his disgusting hands exploring him once more. Worst of all he could hear those haunting words as real as if Paul was beside him.

5 am, the digital clock flashed glaringly by his bedside, no point going back to sleep now. He dragged his body out of bed, wincing at the internal pain, his ribs were still very fragile and he grasped his sides. Moving slowly he hobbled into his bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, he looked up to the mirror and started. Just for a second, he thought the face of Paul Simmonds was looking out at him. He turned sharply, of course he wasn't there, he was dead. He had seen him with his own eyes, he had demanded to see the body, thought it might offer him some closure. He was wrong. Simmond's words echoed in his mind "I will always be with you". Greg clenched his fists in frustration. Simmonds was right. He looked in the mirror, this time only his sorry reflection stared back at him. It was a reflection he barely recognised, scarred and marked for life, his face cut, his arms cut and bruised. He reached up to feel the long jagged scar that ran down his cheek. He remembered that knife going in, slicing his skin open. His hands then found the back of his head, a huge ugly lump and a deep, deep gash was barely covered by his hair, his hair flat and messy, unstyled for days.

Gingerly his hands lifted up his silky pyjama top and pulled at the bandages across his stomach, burns on his abdomen. Simmonds had actually apologised for that, said he hadn't meant it, said he never meant to hurt him so badly but he had made him mad. He let the top fall over his wounds and studied his ugly reflection in the mirror. The scars his soulless tormentor had imprinted on him forever. In that moment, he knew, knew there was only way to beat him, one way to recover from the nightmare. Resolution was flowing inside of him as he grabbed the phone; he knew what he had to do.

The sleepy voice answered after four rings. "Grissom"

"I want to do it" Greg replied determinedly "I want to do this"

Grissom didn't need any clarification, he knew exactly who the young man was calling him so early and knew exactly what he was talking about

"Are you sure? It won't be easy Greg. One step at a time"

"I know but I can do this, I have to do this, it's the only way I can beat that bastard" Greg's voice wasn't angry but passionate, he wanted to do this, he could do this.

"If you're sure you're ready"

"I am" he stated confidently "I want to start training and prove to that bastard that he hasn't taken my life away" He smiled grimly "I want to become a CSI"

Grissom smiled, he was right all along, Greg was a fighter. "I'm proud of you Greg; you're going to be a fantastic CSI"

Greg smiled, it was the words he longed to hear and my god would he prove it, to his friends, to Grissom, to that bastard languishing in Hell but most of all to himself. This time when he looked in the mirror, his reflection smiled back at him.

A/N: And that's it folks, thanks so much for all your reviews, you've kept me going and kept me from succumbing to the dreaded writers block! I would love to know your overall opinion on the whole story, constructive criticism is warmly appreciated!

I'm actually still toying with the idea of writing a kind of sequel to this, a sort of alternative (angsty) version of how Greg becomes a CSI, having to deal with the events of my story, trying to move on maybe one or two traumatic things he has to recover from? This is the summary I've come up with just now:

Six months ago, Greg was kidnapped and left for dead by a psychopath. Now, just as he's beginning to get his life back together, it's destined to fall apart all over again.

So? Do I continue? What do you all think?