Title: Lock and Key 02

Author: Griffin Maxwell

Fandom: CSI

Pairing: Greg/OMC and Nick/Gil later Nick/Greg/Gil

Rating: R

Summery: Something's wrong with Greg.

Warnings: Abuse, as usual.

Notes:

Disclaimer: Dude, if CSI belonged to me…mmm…let's not get into that now.

Dedication: My Mentee, Cady, and Abby for lending me seasons of CSI so that I don't go through withdrawal.

lj-cut

The next day Greg was no where to be found. Grissom was worried, but they were close to breaking the Amber case wide open. For the moment there was little the CSI's could do but wait for the skin under the victim's fingernail's to be processed.

Nick sat in Grissom's office while they waited. He was playing silently with a Rubik Cube that was left laying around while Grissom read a forensic journal. Neither said anything about the case, r their worry for Greg. They were silent until Catherine showed up.

"We've got a hit on the DNA." Catherine stalked across the room and handed the print-out to her boss.

"Nick," Grissom handed the paper back across the desk, "isn't this the same apartment building Greg lives in?"

"Look it up," Nick suggested. "I think it is."

Catherine watched as Grissom typed into his computer. Suddenly his eyes widened and his lips tightened. "Cath, call Brass and have him send SWAT over there. Nick, we're going now." Grissom ordered sharply.

Nick felt a feeling of dread build in the pit of his stomach. He didn't dare ask until they were both in Grissom's truck.

"It's more than just the building, isn't it?"

"Same apartment…"

"Fuck I hope this guy isn't our killer," Nick muttered to himself as they sped off.

Brass and the SWAT team were waiting for them by the time they got there.

"We think Sanders might be in there with him, so careful who you go after," Grissom told Brass.

"You think he's an accomplish?"

"No way," Nick cut in. "I'm thinking hostage, but we're not sure."

"Just be careful."

Brass nodded and signaled for the team to head into the building and to the apartment. Nick and Grissom followed at a safe distance.

"LVPD! Open up!"

The apartment door slowly opened, revealing a muscled middle age man with tousled brown hair and piercing green eyes. Brass grabbed his arm and twisted it around and cuffed him. "Mr. Brooksten, you're under arrest for the kidnapping, rape, and murder of Jason Milly." Brass turned to the SWAT. "Clear the apartment!"

The team filed in and the CSI's could hear calls of "Clear!"

One of the SWAT team came out to find them. "I heard you tell Brass you suspected someone else here?"

"Did you find him?" Nick asked.

The guy nodded. "He's laying in the bedroom. He won't answer any of us."

Grissom walked past the man into the apartment. As they walked past the kitchenette, Nick paused. "Hey, Gil."

Grissom stopped and followed his gaze to see all the cabinets and the fridge locked up. "I'm going to bet that wasn't Greg's idea."

They found what they were looking for in the master bedroom, through a door that had been splintered and split where the SWAT team had kicked it down. Greg was curled up with his knees pulled close to his chest, wearing only a pair of jeans. He was crying, and for the first time in awhile, both men remembered how young Greg really was. Nick felt like throwing up when he saw the blood that soaked the carpet around him.

"G?" Nick whispered.

When Nick got closer he could see that the blood had come from Greg's back, and had already stopped bleeding. "Hey, Greggo." Greg looked up, eyes and face blank. "Greggo, it's over. We're gonna get you out of here now, okay, man? He can't hurt you anymore."

A small glint of recognition appeared in Greg's eyes. "N-Nick?" he croaked out.

Nick smiled the smallest bit. "Yeah, I'm here."

"N-no. Go," Greg lifted his arms and tried to push Nick away, but didn't have enough strength. Nick saw then how much weight he had lost over the last few months. "He'll kill you! P-please!" Greg started to panic.

"No, no he won't, G. He's gone. He's locked up. He won't be out for a long, long time." Nick took both of his friend's hands in his.

"G-gone?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, gone. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore."

"Nick, we need to take him to the hospital. He needs his back checked out." Grissom said from his place by the door.

Greg looked up at him, then back at Nick.

"G, can you stand?"

Greg slowly stood up, wincing silently as he used the bed for leverage. He wobbled for a moment before leaning against the wall. "Nicky?" he whispered.

Nick got up and put a hand on his arm to try to keep the younger CSI steady. "Yeah, G?"

"I'm hungry…" he whispered, like it was some secret sin that alone could send him to the deepest pits of Hell.

"Okay. We'll stop at a convenient store on the way, okay?"

Greg nodded and allowed himself to be led carefully out of the apartment and to Grissom's car. Nick helped him get settled on his stomach in the back so not to irritate the cuts.

"So, what would you like to eat, Greg?" Nick asked once they were on the road.

"Salad?"

"Just a salad?"

Greg nodded.

"What kinda salad?"

"G-garden?"

Nick was glad Greg couldn't see Grissom. The latter was obviously upset about how Greg was reacting, and it showed in his features. Grissom pulled the car into the parking lot of a small store and cut the engine. "Okay, I'll get you a garden salad. I'll be right back."

"Grissom?" Greg said quietly once Nick was gone. "Are you mad at me?"

It took Grissom a moment to process the question. "Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?"

Greg was crying quietly again. "Because I was late for work, because I'm a crappy CSI, because I was stupid."

"Greg, stop it. You're not stupid, you're a great CSI for your level, and being late was in no way your fault. I have no reason to be mad at you, so I'm not."

The conversation ended then when Nick got back in the car. He handed a paper bag to Greg. "There you go. Eat up."

Greg smiled a little, though it in no way met his eyes, and took the bag. The rest of the ride to the hospital was quiet as Greg ate his food slowly, trying to make every bit last, and Nick and Grissom lost in their own thoughts and guilt.