A/N: I apologize for the lacking update on this, but I'm in a rough spot right now, so I'm trying to get back. Anyway, I don't own CSI, CBS, or anyone but Stewart Jacobson and Mia Salvatori. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and please, please review. If you're reading it, please let me know. It keeps me encouraged.

Chapter 2: 'Torture Me,' and Say Hello

Sweat beaded across his forehead as he sat still, keeping his eyes closed. The room was hot, hotter than he ever thought possible in the desert. But he knew it had to do with positioning within the building more than actual heating of the room. He wiggled his hands from their position behind his back, feeling the sweat work its way into the articulations of the handcuffs. He was drenched in his own sweat.

He tried to take a deep breath, but his dry lungs and ribs fought against him. He would sweat all day, and freeze all night. And as of yet, he had not been given any water that he knew of, but he'd only been there for one day. He could tell by the one sunrise/sunset he'd seen. He forced himself not to think about how thirsty or hungry he was for a few minutes as he opened his eyes and tried again to figure out his location.

The sun shone in directly in the morning, so he was certain his window faced the east. The extreme heat of the day, coupled with the freezing at night, made him think he was in the middle of the desert. He couldn't see anything out the window more than sky and sand in a distance, without any unique attributes, so nothing to give him an actual location. Occasionally he heard tractor-trailer trucks driving by, and he knew they weren't far from a street, but no one knew he was there. No one yet, anyway.

He was handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room, and the chair was bolted to the floor. The cuffs were locked just tight enough to keep him in place, but not tight enough to cut off circulation or cut into him. His ankles were shackled to the bottom of the chair, keeping him locked in place even if he had managed to get his arms out. He was still in the clothes he had worn at the crime scene, covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He didn't know where he'd been as of yet, and he wasn't sure he'd find out, either.

The door creaked open slowly, and an older man stepped inside. He smiled at Greg, who looked shocked to see another human being. He had begun to make friends with the dirt piles on the floor. "Good morning, Mr. Sanders," the man said.

"Morning?" Greg asked, confused. The man didn't seem to answer his questioning look as he produced a bottle of water. He poured some into Greg's mouth, and Greg swallowed it quickly. "Who are you?"

"Stewart Jacobson," he answered quietly.

"Where am I?"

"Come on, Gregory. You're a good CSI. I'm sure you've put together some clues." Greg shrugged as more water was poured into his mouth. "I ain't about to give you a serious answer anyway. You can't get out of here, so you might as well get that idea out of your head, too."

"What do you want with me?"

"You'll find out a lot more later, Gregory. For now, suffice it to say that you're about to become part of an experiment."

"I don't consent."

"You don't have a choice."

Nick walked into the break room, finding Mia slumped over the table. He stopped, looking at her sleeping form. He shook his head, knowing she'd hate him for it, but he had to do it anyway. He gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Mia?" he asked.

"Huh?" she replied, waking up.

"You fell asleep in the break room." She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired. I honestly can't find anyone that would want to kidnap Greg. I've been through all of his case files, and everyone he's ever put away is still away. He hasn't been at this game long enough for the first one to come back."

"Yeah, I know. I had a feeling that might be a dead end."

"S.O.P., though." She yawned, and Nick placed a cup of coffee in front of her. "Thanks."

"No problem. Now, you know him better than anyone. He have any enemies? Anyone around his house pissed at him? Disgruntled exes or family?"

"Not that I know of, but I don't know his history like you guys do."

"Any letters, hate mail recently?"

"Not for him."

"For you?" She shrugged.

"Comes with the territory." Judy walked in quickly.

"Mia?" she asked. Mia looked up at her.

"What's up, Judy?" she replied.

"There's someone at the desk to see you. A Stewart Jacobson. He says it's really important." Mia looked at Nick, who shrugged.

"Okay." Mia and Nick walked out of the break room and over to Stewart. "Mr. Jacobson? I'm Mia Salvatori, and this is Nick Stokes. What can I do for you?"

"I have something to tell you, Miss Salvatori."

"Spill it." Nick arched his eyebrows at her, confused. She glanced over at him, shrugging.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but… I'm your father, Mia." Her mouth dropped along with Nick's.

"You're fucking out of your mind." Nick grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Where the fuck did you come up with that shit?"

"Your mother? Juliana Salvatori?"

"How do you know who my mother is? Is this some sick fucking joke?"

"I had sex with your mother."

"So did half of L.A., but that doesn't make you my father." Nick looked at Mia, confused. Mia met his gaze with a shrug.

"Mia, please." She snapped her head to him.

"Mr. Jacobson, I'm a scientist. I don't fucking believe anything without evidence to back it up. So, in theory, you think you're my father. Fucking prove it."

"I'll take a paternity test for you, with you, however the heck you want to do it, honey. I'll do it to prove that you're my daughter. Whatever it takes." Mia looked at Nick again, who shrugged.

"Fine."

"He's not lying to you," the woman said, smiling. "He's your father." Mia looked over at Nick, shaking her head.

"Why's he trying to get in my life now?" Mia asked him.

"I don't know, hon," Nick said, shrugging.

"Well, thanks for being here."

"No problem." Mia thanked the woman before leaving.

"So, my father wants back into my life. How did he find me?" Nick shrugged as they climbed into the Denali. "And why now? What does he want with me?"

"I don't know, Mia." Her cell phone rang.

"Salvatori," she answered.

"Mia, it's Grissom. Where are you? And Nick, for that matter?"

"We're on lunch together. I promise, we're working the case."

"I don't doubt it. You okay?"

"Fine. We'll talk later."

"Okay." She hung up.

"Grissom?" Nick asked. Mia nodded. "You think this relates to the case?"

"I don't know what to think, Nick," she replied. "I mean, the timing does seem weird, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I mean, he had to know he had a daughter somewhere."

"Did your mother ever tell you about him?" She shrugged.

"Just that he was an insensitive asshole. Left after finding out my mom was pregnant with me." Nick nodded.

"Ever have a reason to doubt your mom?"

"She died when I was eight. I wasn't questioning her yet." Nick nodded again.

"I'm sorry." Mia arched her eyebrows.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Sorry to hear about it." Mia shrugged.

"That was 19 years ago, Nicky," she said. "Doesn't matter anymore."

"Still," he said. "It was your mom."

"It's in the past. Can we please drop this?"

"You're the one that thinks your father may be linked to this case."

"And you don't?" Nick shrugged. "Come on."

"I don't know, Mia. Yeah, it seems fishy, and he must've known you and your name."

"So, it wouldn't be hard to know I'm with Greg."

"Why would your father have something against you or Greg?"

"I don't know, Nick. I don't know."

Greg looked up as he heard the door of his chamber open once again. Stewart walked in, looking at him sadistically. "You mind telling me a few things?" Greg asked.

"Maybe," Stewart replied, producing a whip.

"You told me your name. You keep showing me your face. You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Stewart whipped him.

"Maybe."

"You're either going to kill me, or you're trying to make a statement. Which is it?"

"What's the fun in telling you?" Stewart asked as he whipped him again, drawing blood.

"Is this all just a bunch of riddles?" Stewart paused.

"You tell me, CSI Sanders."

"Have I done something to you? I mean, I know I got enemies all over the place."

"No, you haven't done something to me." Stewart whipped him again.

"So, what's the purpose of this?"

"Everything in due time, Gregory." Stewart whipped him a final time.

"What do you want with me? Please, just tell me. What do you want with me?"

"Everything in due time, Gregory," Stewart repeated, turning his back to Greg and walking out of the room, leaving Greg alone yet again to contemplate what would happen next.

"We're nowhere," Mia said as she and Grissom were leaving.

"We have some leads," Grissom replied.

"A cryptic note, coupled with untraceable fingerprints and unusable DNA do not constitute real leads, Griss. We have nothing."

"We know he faked the crime scene. We have bullets from a gun, we have casings."

"The bullets haven't turned up anything yet." Grissom sighed.

"I want to find him as much as you do."

"We have three dead officers."

"One with a knife, two shot. More than likely, he knifed the first and stole the gun from him to shoot the other two. When we find his gun, we will find our kidnapper."

"Mia?" Stewart called out across the parking lot. Mia sighed, looking toward him.

"Haven't you had enough today?" she snapped at him. Grissom arched his eyebrows.

"Look, by now you've gotten the results."

"Yeah, I did, okay? Congratulations, you were right. Now, what the fuck do you want from me?"

"I need money." She sighed.

"Of course you do. How much?"

"Three thousand dollars." She sighed, and Grissom watched her.

"Will you leave me alone if I pay you?"

"I'm your father. I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'll pay you back. It's just a loan, until I get a job and get back on my feet." Mia sighed again, more annoyed than before.

"What do you need the money for?"

"To get a place to live." She sighed, opening her pocketbook.

"Fine." She took out her checkbook, writing him a check, much to Grissom's surprise.

"Thanks, Mia. I promise, I'll pay you back."

"Fine." He walked away, and Grissom looked at her. "What?" she asked him.

"What was that about?" he replied. She sighed, almost in insecurity.

"He… showed up at the lab earlier. Claimed he was my father. So, I went to an outside lab and had them run a paternity test. Got the results on my lunch break, with Nick. He is who he says he is."

"But, your mother…"

"Mom never mentioned him more than calling him an asshole. Look, I already have my suspicions about him."

"So, you paid him…"

"I don't know, Griss."

"Be careful, Mia. You don't even know this man."

"Yeah, I know. But, by giving him a check, we can track him." Grissom shook his head. "It's a little odd that he chose now to try to get in touch with me, after Greg goes missing. I mean, we could always run his DNA against what we found at the scene, but other than a strange feeling, I have no reason to believe he has anything to do with Greg's disappearance."

"Feelings don't hold up in court. You know that."

"I know. I can't help it though, Griss. Something's not right about this. If I appease him, maybe, if he is involved, he'll help us out, give us something." Grissom shrugged, looking out across the parking lot in the direction Stewart retreated in.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."