Disclaimer: Unless this has escaped every one's attention for the last 18 chapters, I don't own CSI, although I assume that none of you do either. But it would be a nice thought.
A/N: Glad that the last chapter was liked. I enjoyed writing it – trying to capture the emotional sides to our fave CSI's. So here is chapter 19 – a full Nick solid chapter :)
Chapter 19: Countdown
Nick had given up. Almost. Despite the fact that on the outside the building appeared to be falling apart, the pipe he was attached to was well and truly stuck. And him with it.
'Typical.'
He'd had visions of the building collapsing and him still being stuck to that wretched pipe, rubble strewn around him, the hot sun beating down on him. Despite the serious of the current situation, he had to chuckle to himself.
'Either that, or go crazy.'
He hadn't heard anything out of Tyrone for minutes? Hours? It was as though he'd vanished off of the edge of the Earth.
'Not that the Earth has an edge.'
He scanned the room he was in. Various chairs were scatted around the edges, a broken table just off centre. He strained his ears for anything that would tell him what was going on. The possible danger that he was in next. The odd thing was, he couldn't hear anything apart from the dripping pipes. He began to hum a tune. Anything to try and block out the drips that were beginning to irritate him.
'What will be the first thing I do when I get out of here?' he thought to himself.
The images flickered in his mind, putting him slightly at ease. He could imagine the aromas coming from the café as he and the others sat and ate breakfast. It almost felt real, yet provided him with the necessary distraction that he needed. He didn't know what was coming next, or what was going on outside of here. He stretched out his legs in front of him. He hissed.
'Damn leg,' he mumbled to himself, trying to inspect the wound tract.
'Looks superficial. But damn, it's ruined my pants.'
Still grimacing, he continued to straighten his legs. They felt numb. He tried to relax but it was difficult with his hands tied behind his back. He was beginning to wonder what the others were doing at this moment in time.
'Wonder if they've gottn any closer to finding me? Wonder if they found 'Rick?'
A loud band caught his attention, his body jumping, jarring his shoulder.
'Er, oowwwww,' he said to himself, straining to look in the direction the noise came from.
He couldn't see anything, but after a few moments he could hear some murmuring.
"Well at least it works," came the voice. "Just got to make the real thing now."
A loud clatter rang out as something was thrown onto a hard surface. Nick could make out more mumbling, before the door creaked opened, heavy footsteps moving towards him. Nick took a deep breath, his palms clammy. His last encounter with Tyrone hadn't been good: he'd ended up with knife injuries, and that was after he thought his life was about to end: had spent time torturing himself, reliving the old memories.
The footsteps got louder as they moved closer, until the large shadow of Tyrone's body framed the doorway. He made his way closer to Nick, smiled slyly at him, before sitting crossed legged in front on him.
"Hi Nick," Tyrone drooled.
Nick didn't say anything, instead, sizing up Tyrone as though they were opponents in a boxing ring.
"Hey Nick. Come on. That's not polite you know."
Nick swallowed.
"Hi. Tyrone."
"And how are you today?" he asked him. He examined the raw flesh running down Nick's torso, before jabbing a finger along the cuts, causing Nick to take a sharp in take of breath.
'That hurt a lot.'
"Well I see you're still well. Too well in my opinion. But I'll see to that later."
Nick just nodded, although the fear shone in his eyes. He didn't like the sound of that.
"So Nick. It's just me and you against the world. Well, me against the world. You're just my pawn so I can get what I want. Anyway, I expect you're wondering what's happening next don't you? If you're going to get out of here alive. Or dead. Like your friend Warrick."
"Warrick ain't dead," Nick said defiently. "He's a lot stronger then you think he is. You'll see."
Tyrone studied Nick, his eyes narrowed, a small smile crossing his lips.
"That so is it? You really think he's still alive?"
He stood up now and began to pace round the room. Nick just nodded silently at his last question, not able to say anything.
"He's dead."
Nick shook is head, the tears trying to form in his eyes.
"No," he whispered.
Tyrone approached him, nodding his head venometely.
"Yup. Dead. Your friend, Gil Grissom told me so."
The emotion boiled in Nick, the tears now flowing freely. Tears of anger, frustration. Tears of saddness, regret.
"No. You're wrong. Grissom -"
"Grissom says he's dead. You saw him when we left. He was just as good as dead. Hell, you even saw him before you left." He laughed. "All that blood. I have to admit, he didn't break easily. Wasn't like you though. No. He never cried. Had a mouth on him though."
This was something that Nick didn't want to hear. He'd already seen it with his own eyes. Witnessed the damage that had been done. Now Tyrone was playing with his mind, trying to get a reaction.
'I know this is what this guy wants. And I'm playing into his hands, as hard as I try not too.'
Tyrone was still talking. He didn't care if Nick was listening or not.
"You know, I tried knives. But that didn't work. Wasn't until I used the hot metal on his skin that I got some kind of reaction. And hell, that was good."
He looked in Nick's direction. Nick had his eyes closed, fighting back the tears, fighting his own demons. His own worries.
'Is this what he's going to do to me?' He knew he'd break a lot sooner then Warrick. He was more emotional.
"I'm sorry Nicky. Am I boring you?" He approached Nick, hands in his pockets. Nick tensed his body, readying himself for whatever it was that was coming. So he was surprised then, when Tyrone pulled out a small black tape recorder.
"What's that?" Nick asked, aprehension in his voice.
"This," Tyrone said, showing Nick the tape recorder, "Contains – well, I'll let you listen for yourself."
He hit the play button. Crackles and static played for the first few moments, before distinct voices came onto the tape.
Flashback:
"Here you go." This man was shorter than Tyrone and had a mop of dirty blond hair.
"Good." responded Tyrone, still not taking his eyes off of Warrick. He spoke again, this time to Warrick. "Let's see, we've done sharp and blunt, now we're going to do hot.
End Flashback.
Nick didn't like where this was going.
'That's Tyrone. I don't know who the first voice belonged too.'
The tape continued to play.
Flashback:
"I haven't really had any screams of agony from you. I'm disappointed. I want to hear you scream." He pulled out a small tape recorder from his pocket. "Oh, don't worry about this. It's just to record those screams." He laughed and hit the record button.
"You'll never he.." Warrick began but was cut off.
End Flashback.
'Was that 'Rick?' he said to himself. He knew it was, but was trying to persuade himself that it wasn't. He didn't want to know what was next. Although defient, he could hear a slight waver in Warrick's voice.
Flasback:
"Never say never Warrick." He lifted a metal rod from the bucket. It was glowing red. He walked over to Warrick, ripping apart the remainder of his shirt. "Never...say..never," he screamed as he forced the rod onto Warrick's chest, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Warrick couldn't help but yell.
End Flashback.
Tyrone stopped the tape player, taking a deep breath in. He didn't see the Nick shudder as his friends ells continued to echo in his mind even after the tape player had been turned off.
"You bastard," Nick yelled. "You're sick." His eyes still watered, any calm he had managed to compose long gone.
"Yeah, I know," Tyrone gloated, as though he was proud at his twisted ways. "And now I'm going to have some more fun. I've got," he looked as his watch. "Just under twenty-four hours before I have to deliver you to Grissom, so I may aswell get my fun in now. I mean, I told him I'd give you back to him alive. Just, well, I didn't tell him how alive."
Nick shok is head violently.
"It doesn't have to be like this. You can just let me go, walk out of here now."
"And leave my brother on death row? Not an option."
"But we didn't do anything to you. We just followed the evidence."
Tyrone's nostrils flared. Nick noticed and instantly regretted trying to reason with Tyrone.
"You followed the evidence that put him in jail in the first place," he hissed. "Do you have any idea what that did to me? The torture I've endured at the very thought." He clenched his fists. "And in twenty four hours you will be dead Nick. And I'll be free, along with my brother."
"But you said - "
"Said what? That I was going to let you go alive? Well you will be, after I've released you. It just won't be for long. "
Unseathing his knife, he approaced Nick again.
"So here we are. Almost at the end. Now where do you want me to start first?"
Any attempt Nick had had at steming the tears failed, small tears running down his cheeks. He'd just received the news that everyone dreaded.
'In twenty four hours I'll be dead.'
He felt the cold metal of the blade touch his skin. Somehow that didn't matter so much anymore.
So, What will happen next? Will Nick get out of this alive? And will attempts at negotiation be successful? In order to find out, you'll have to look out for the next chapter :)
