Author's Notes: Thanks to Emmithar for her help and suggestions. Girl, you're the best. Also a huge thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing faithfully, it makes this story a pleasure to write. Please let me know what you're thinking!

Jenny

Chapter Four:

"Easy does it." Sara whispered soothingly, her arm around Greg's waist as she gently eased him from their car, "Take it slow, we've got all the time in the world."

Greg scowled and tried to push her hands away, "I'm sore, not crippled."

"Stop being stubborn." Sara chastised, finally able to get him to his feet, softly groaning as she tried to support both of their weight on her slender frame, "If you want to do it on your own, you can try...but I don't want to hear you complain when you hurt yourself and have to go back to the hospital."

Greg frowned in response, allowing his wife to slowly lead him towards the front door, feeling helpless and weak despite the painkillers and antidepressants the doctor had given him before he was discharged. It wasn't that he hated being doted on, or needing the help--that was always Sara's pet peeve--the thing that bothered him the most was that it was his wife doing all of these things for him. He firmly believed that it was the husband's place to care for the wife, not the other way around, and Sara definitely needed some doting on as well.

She had been kept overnight in the hospital for observation after being diagnosed with a grade three concussion and bruised ribs, and the moment she was released, she had perched herself next to Greg's bed, refusing to leave until he was released two days later. Even though she hadn't complained, Greg could tell she was still feeling pretty run down and sore, he'd be willing to bet that she was still suffering with a miserable headache.

They slowly approached the door and Sara fished in her pockets for the house key, "I asked Nick to come by and get some things situated for us, that way I don't have to leave to go to the store. He's filled all of your prescriptions, and he's gotten the bedside table set up as a station to change your bandages and clean your--your--injuries."

She quickly averted her eyes to the lock, her hand shaking as she fumbled with the house key. Greg didn't fail to notice her voice faltering, and with a worried frown, he stared at her trembling hands as she struggled to get the door open. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and steady her hand, to reassure her that he was alive, that she had saved him, but the extensive bandaging on his palms made it difficult and painful to touch anything. Instead, he leaned his head against her shoulder, quietly whispering for her to take a deep breath and calm down.

A few moments later, the door was opened and she carefully led Greg inside, easing him onto the couch before declaring that she was going to get his painkillers from the bedroom. She quickly retreated to the bedroom, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Leaning his head back, Greg let his eyes briefly fall closed, fatigue overrunning his entire body. His injuries hadn't been too extensive, several dozen stitches inside and out had fixed his hands, and staples were holding the three wounds closed where Alyssa had done the most damage. A slight shudder ripped through his sore body, and he softly moaned as the involuntary action sent a surge of pain through his tender muscles.

The phone rang, and Greg groaned at the shrill noise, slowly maneuvering himself into a laying position on their worn out sofa. He wasn't sure how long Sara would be, and even though he'd been in a drug induced stupor for days, he found himself unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

--

Sara collapsed onto the bed, deciding not to even bother with the covers or her clothes. The only thing she wanted to do was sleep, something she hadn't been able to do since this whole ordeal started. Within minutes of closing her eyes, her body relaxed enough to allow herself to succumb to her dreams.

Sara walked through the open doorway, nervously glancing in all directions before checking each room, one by one. The living room was first, where she found a blood stain on the sofa where she and Nick had been huddled together a few days prior. Making her way down the corridor, she stopped in the kitchen, shivering as she remembered the woman's torso which had been sitting by the stove.

Curiosity got the best of her as she took a step into the room, slowly making her way to the counter. Turning the remains of the body over, she let out a terrified yell. This was definitely not their previous victim, it was too masculine to be their unidentified blonde. Peering into the pot on the stove, she let out another shriek, gagging as she came face to face with the distorted, bloated face of her husband.

Slamming the lid down on the pot, she backed towards the doorway, her entire body violently trembling as this revelation started to sink in. Greg was dead. She was going to eat him. Greg was dead. She was going to eat him. Greg was dead. She was going to eat him.

A tidal wave of fear flooded through her weary body as she came into contact with something warm and soft. She didn't have to turn around to know it was Greg's kidnapper. The woman grabbed Sara by the hair, pulling her out of the room and into the hallway as Sara violently protested the attack.

"We'll need to get a little meat on your bones first...don't worry, by the time I'm ready for you, you won't be able to feel pain anymore."

As Sara froze in horror, the woman began to emit bone chilling laughter. This was it. This was how she was going to die. No one was going to save her, just as no one had saved Greg.

--

Greg awoke with a start, ripped from his hellish dreams by a bone chilling scream. His heart racing and his head pounding, he forced himself to sit up and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

Another scream tore through the house, causing Greg to realize that it hadn't been his own nightmare that had roused him from sleep, but apparently Sara's. Worry and fear gripped his heart as he swung his legs over the couch, slowly trying to stand. He had to check on Sara, he had to wake her up, otherwise she'd wake up in a frenzied panic. It was part of his duties as her husband to hold her close and soothe her fears, it made him feel good to know that he was able to calm her down when she was nearly inconsolable.

He sank back onto the couch, his face contorted in pain as he felt the stabbing pain in his side return. How was he going to get to her if he could barely walk on his own? What kind of husband couldn't be there to provide some sort of support for his wife?

Another shriek filled the air, followed by a loud thud. The house was eerily silent until the bathroom light flipped on and the sounds of vomiting filled the air. Greg closed his eyes, trying in vain to get back on his feet. He couldn't let her suffer alone, especially since her haunting dreams were likely a result of the agony he had put her through.

He struggled to get on his feet, grimacing with every shaky step he took. He hadn't made it far before a wave of pain-induced dizziness overtook him, sending him right back to the couch, where he had started. He held his breath for a moment, tears stinging his eyes as the sounds of his wife's sobs echoed through the house. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, hold her in his arms and soothe away her pain.

He let his left hand fall to his side, where the staples suturing his wound were throbbing painfully. His eyes closed as he drew in a shaky breath, his heart aching as Sara's sobs pierced his ears. Just a few days ago, they were laying in bed, talking about what to do on their vacation. Now, they were as distant as strangers in this lonely house, both alone in the same hell.

--

Sara crept into the living room, wiping away any traces of tears from her face, just in case Greg was awake. He had gone through so much already, she didn't need to add her fears to the ones she was certain he already had. She had gotten the better deal out of the abduction, she got to find the clues and put together the puzzle, she was in the comfort of their home while Greg was being mutilated and tortured. She came out with only a few bumps and bruises, while Greg came out the broken shell of her husband. There was no way she'd give him anything else to worry about on top of his own problems, it was the least she could do.

She was relieved to find him asleep on the sofa, a slight grimace on his face as his hand rested on the deepest of his wounds. Softly placing her lips on his forehead, she struggled to hold back a fresh wave of tears. What would she have done without him? How would she have lived if he had died? Sniffling softly, she reached for the green throw blanket they always used to cuddle with on the sofa, and tucked him in gently before running her fingers through his hair.

"I love you." she whispered hoarsely, placing another kiss on his forehead as she contemplated sleeping on the floor beside him.

The decision was made for her as the phone started to ring, the shrill noise causing her headache to stab a bit stronger. Gently rubbing the tender spot on her head, she moved towards the kitchen, grabbing the cordless phone with a loud whisper, "Hello?"

"Sara, it's Grissom. I'm sorry to bother you at home, but I didn't get an answer on your cell..."

Sara quickly moved towards her bedroom, gently shutting the door behind her so she wouldn't disturb Greg, "Sorry, I guess I forgot to turn it on after leaving the hospital. What's up?"

"How's Greg?"

"Sleeping." Sara replied, sitting down on the bed with a heavy sigh, "He's still a bit worn out, but he's definitely getting better."

"Do you think it would be possible for you to come in for a bit? Catherine's out for the night, she had to bring Lindsey to the Children's Center...they think it's her appendix. Nick was slated off for tonight, and I can't reach him to pull him in."

Sara sighed, rubbing her head once more. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before responding, "Okay, I can, but not all night, I want to be back before Greg wakes up."

"Thank you, I just need your help getting things started, if it looks to be slow, you can leave."

"Okay, I'll be there soon."

Sara pushed the "off" button on the phone, letting herself fall onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Greg was asleep, and after the nightmare she had experienced, she definitely wasn't going to be sleeping tonight. A few hours of work would be okay...it would get her mind off of everything that was going on, it would be therapeutic to be actually doing something.

Stifling a yawn, she tossed the phone on the bed, making her way to the laundry room. She had hung some work clothes up the night before Greg was kidnaped, and she knew they'd still be there, waiting. She silently changed in the laundry room before heading into the kitchen to fix Greg a snack...if he did wake up, she didn't want him digging around for food instead of resting.

Once sure that Greg was situated well enough for her to leave, she jotted a quick note saying she'd have her phone on, and quietly slipped out of the house, leaving her weary husband alone to his rest.

--

"Now don't fight me, little guy." Alyssa Miller spoke in a chilling voice, "I don't want you to die just yet, and any sudden moves can cause irreparable damage."

"Please, let me go!" Greg begged, silenced quickly by a strong slap. He bit down on his quivering lip, wondering if he'd ever see his friends and family again. Would it hurt to have his head cut off? Did they even realize he was missing yet? Would they be able to decipher his clues in time to save him?

Alyssa knelt down in front of him, ignoring his pleas as she began to poke and prod him. Settling on his side, she slide her knife over his soft skin, grinning as the dark blood spilled onto his skin and clothes. "We need to get some more meat on your bones, you're not nearly tender enough."

He watched in horror as she slid the bit of flesh into her mouth, her eyes closing as she began to chew. He turned his head away, partly to keep from becoming ill, partly to try and block out a memory he was sure would haunt him forever.

This was it. This was how he was going to die. They'd only find leftovers once they figured out where he was.

She moved the knife to his other side, instructing him quietly, "Open your mouth."

"No." Greg protested before clamping his jaws shut tightly, a deep frown on his pale face. He shut his eyes, turning his head away from her once more, praying that she'd just leave him alone. He'd rather bleed out than follow any plan she was concocting.

She jerked his head forward and he began to protest, the sliver of his skin in his mouth before he realized what was going on. Choking and gagging, he tried in vain to spit it out, his stomach churching and his heart racing. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be real.

Laughter filled his ears as Alyssa taunted him to chew and swallow, the room spinning around him in dizzying circles. As he was enveloped into darkness, the only sound he was able to focus on was the insane laughter coming from his captive, chilling him to the bone.

Greg's eyes snapped open, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to block out the flashes of his imprisonment that loitered in the shadows of his dreams. His chest ached as he struggled to breathe, his heart pounding faster than he had ever felt it beat before. He could feel himself growing weak as he tried to overcome the panic attack that had overtaken him.

"Sara..." he wheezed, hoping somehow he'd get her attention. The house remained still and silent. Where was she? Why wasn't she coming to help him?

Spots danced before his eyes and he fell back against the couch, limp, as the world faded around him.

TBC