A/N: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer. This chapter is rated for non-con/rape (or at least the mention of it). Oh, and for all those wondering, the story of the governor removing all the inmates from Death Row in Illinois is a true story. Sill Gov. Ryan...who's now facing 18 criminal charges.

Chapter 3- Worse than Sorrow

"Three things that are worse than sorrow:

To wait to die, and to die not,

To try to please, and to please not,

And to wait for someone who comes not"

Irish Triad

Grissom's computer beeped with an incoming message, but Grissom didn't hear it. His head lolled as he snored heavily, oblivious to the bustle around him on the airplane. The computer beeped again. Catherine nudged him with her shoulder, jerking him awake. "Griss?" she called gently.

Grissom slowly sat up, ears ringing with the sudden return of noise on the airplane. He opened the laptop and clicked on the flashing icon. "It's from Sara," he said, eyes scanning the note.

"Griss-

We received these pics from Sandra and her grunt a little while ago. Doc Robbins examined them and said that the bruises were consistent with repeated rape and beatings. Look at what they did to him. God, look at what they did.

-Sara"

Hand trembling slightly, he clicked on the attachment. "Oh, God," he said, bile rising in his throat as he beheld the pictures. They were beyond horrible, and some were so graphic, no one would have even put them on a porn site. There were pictures of Bruno raping Greg, as well as pictures of the resulting bruises, and other injuries all over Greg's body. The last one, however, was probably the most heartbreaking. It was a close-up on what had once been Greg's face, and was now a mass of bruises and cuts. The worst part was Greg's eyes. No light danced in them, and they held only hopelessness and pain. "Greg…" whispered Grissom softly. Unable to bear it anymore, he pushed the computer away and allowed the tears to come. Nick took it next. Grissom, expecting a violent reaction, was startled when Nick started crying.

"My God, buddy…what have they done to you?" he sobbed, staring at the pictures in horror.

Catherine snatched the computer. A few seconds later she said, "I think I'm going to be sick," just making it into the airline-provided bag.

Grissom closed the computer, the gruesome result of Bruno's repeated sodomy etched in his mind. "Greg…" he whispered once more, closing his eyes to the cruelty.

Greg lay huddled on the cold concrete in the small room, a broken mass of flesh and bone. His tears had long since stopped once he realized that no one would hear him cry anyway. He froze as the door opened and thought Oh no, not again! This time, however, Sandra stepped into the room, bearing a small tape recorder.

"I, despite what you may think," she began, "am not completely heartless. So I'm giving you this tape recorder as an opportunity to say good-bye to your friends and family before I send the tape to Grissom. And don't even bother trying to tell them where we are," she added. "I'll be reviewing the tape before I send it." She left as abruptly as she had come, slamming the door behind her. Greg picked up the recorder and thought rapidly, an idea forming in his mind.

"Gil Grissom?" asked the harried-looking man. "I'm James Peters, Chicago Police Chief. Heard one of your CSIs was taken hostage. I'm offering my entire task force to you, if need be." Grissom shook his hand and thanked him heartily.

Catherine came up to him then, computer in hand. "Gil, you need to hear this. It's from Greg."

Grissom sat in the small airport office and clicked play. Greg's voice emitted from the speakers, only a shell of his previous self.

"Grissom, I don't have a lot of time." Nick came in and stood over Grissom's shoulder, listening. "Tell my family that I love them all. Tell Cath she's been like an older sister to me. Tell Warrick and Nick that we're bros til the end of time. Tell Sara that I always liked her, even if she did shoot me down every time I asked her out." Grissom almost smiled at that. Greg continued, "Tell them I miss them. Tell them I love them." Greg's voice paused, as if unsure how to continue. "Tell Nick I'm sorry, and that I hope he's not disappointed in me. I'm not as strong as he is."

"No, man," whispered Nick. "You're stronger than I'll ever be."

"And Gil…thanks for everything. You've…" His voice broke. "You've been like a father to me."

There was a longer pause, which Grissom used as an opportunity to wipe his eyes. Nick didn't even bother; the tears ran down his face unchecked.

Greg's voice started again, this time brisker and more business-like. "Ya know, Grissom, I never really wanted to visit Egypt, especially not Cairo. I wanted to go, I don't know, thirty, forty miles north? I like the solitude. I like the abandonment of society." Suddenly he giggled, high-pitched and unnatural. "You know what else has abandoned me? My sanity. It's gone, gone, locked away, all alone." His tone changed again. "Bye, Gil, I gotta go." The tape ended.

Nick looked bewildered. "Did he lose it?" he asked. "Did he finally crack?" Grissom stared at the computer screen blankly, then began laughing so hard he was almost crying. "Griss? What's going on?" Nick questioned, alarmed.

"Oh, Greggo, you're brilliant!" exclaimed Grissom. "Don't you see? It's a clue to where he is!" He quickly pulled out his map of Illinois. "See, Cairo, IL. Not pronounced the same, but…thirty to forty miles north, an abandoned place without sanity."

It dawned on Nick. "An abandoned sanitarium!"