Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter, but real life has been crazy lately and I was attacked by that pesky writer's block. I did get a new beta reader though, Appreciates Fine Labrats, who I would like to thank for her help.

Chapter Seven

"He's still not answering," Nick said flipping Warrick's phone closed after leaving a message on Greg's answering machine.

"He's probably asleep; Grissom said he made sure Greg took his pain meds before he left his apartment. Don't assume the worst man," Warrick told him as he drove toward Greg's apartment complex. He tried to comfort his friend, even though he also felt as if something was very wrong. He could not stop thinking about Nick's stalker. He had almost lost a friend then and feared this time they may not be as lucky.

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "I'll feel better though, when I can see for myself that he's alright and drag his ass back to my place." Staring out the window Nick silently prayed that Greg was safe.

Greg yawned as he stretched out on his bed. The pills Grissom made him take had finally started to work. He felt as if he had not slept in days despite being unconscious the majority of the time he was in the hospital. Just as he closed his eyes, a loud knock at his front door caused him to jump. He sighed and rolled his eyes assuming it was either the police Grissom was sending to "babysit" or whoever had been trying to call him for the past half hour. He had opted to try to get some sleep instead of constantly telling people that he was fine. Slowly, he got up again as the banging on the door became louder and more persistent.

"I'm coming," he said as he made his way out of his bedroom, down the hall toward the living area where the front door was. As he walked, the room became fuzzy, forcing him to lean against the wall for support. He slowly reached out to open the door when it suddenly flew open, hitting him in the face and slamming him into the wall behind him.

Stunned, he leaned against the wall his right cheek and jaw erupting in pain as a blurred figure entered his apartment. He could tell it was a large man by the shape of the figure as he fought to remain standing.

"Wh… who are you? What do you want," Greg rasped getting a good look at his stalker for the first time as his vision began to clear.

"Where is Amanda," the large man demanded as he took a step toward Greg.

"Who is Amanda?"

"You know damned well who she is. My girlfriend that you have been screwing," the man glared at Greg angrily and took more steps closer to the frightened lab tech.

"She's…"

"If you would have just cooperated at the hospital, you little jerk, I wouldn't have had to come here. But you were always either unconscious or not alone. You ruined my plans to talk t you peacefully."

"You made me wreck my car so you could talk to me," Greg questioned wide-eyed. He could not believe anyone would do that. "You could have just knocked on the door."

"You've been running from me and avoiding me since I came to Vegas. Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe you would let me into your apartment willingly? My idea was brilliant; I'd already stole a doctor's lab coat and a name tag for my plan, but you messed it up," the man sneered as the phone in the kitchen rang. Greg inched slowly along the wall, away from the man. He knew he would not be able to get to the phone and answer it before the man could stop him, and it would only anger him more.

After the phone stopped ringing, the answering machine clicked on, and Greg's cheerful voice sounded on the message. "You've reached Greg, you know what to do, and if you don't then you shouldn't be calling me anyway."

Seconds later Nick's voice filled the apartment, "Hey Greg, its Nick. Listen there was a mix up and Grissom took you to your apartment instead of taking you to mine, which is safer. Warrick and I are going to come and pick you up to take you to my place. I… I guess I'll see you when we get there."

Greg had not failed to notice the anxiety lacing Nick's voice or the way his Texan accent became more prominent as the message played. He also realized the man in front of him, who was now taking several more steps closer to him, looked angrier.

"Maybe y… you should go before they get here. My girlfriend's name was Olivia anyway, so I don't know what you are talking about. Sh… she broke up with me and left Vegas a month ago," he lied not wanting to give the psycho Lisa's real alias.

"Olivia," the man repeated slowly. He was now standing right in front of Greg, who felt much smaller in the shadow of his bulk. "She's been using a fake name for a while now; she's also a blonde now. And I doubt Olivia is the name that she told you, since you already lied to me about when she left. I saw you with her several times. I saw you kissing her and I know she spent the night here several times before she suddenly disappeared no more than a week ago."

"She told me…" Greg closed his eyes for a moment against the dizziness that once again overwhelmed him. Opening his eyes again, he spoke "She didn't tell me she had a boyfriend when we met."

"I don't care. You were seeing her; that's all that matters. Where did she go?"

"I don't know," Greg told him.

"Don't lie to me boy," the man snarled. H reached out to grab Greg, but the lab tech was expecting it. He tried to move out of the way, but the stalker was quicker. He grabbed the injured man and threw him back into the wall knocking the air out of him again.

"Where is she," he thundered as the phone began to ring again.

"She… she didn't tell me where she was going. She said it was better if I didn't know." Greg tried to come up with a way out of this mess, but was too weak to fight the larger man. He knew his only hope of survival was to keep the lunatic talking until Nick and Warrick got there.

"If that is true, she was wrong. I'll find her again and you will die for touching my girlfriend."

"I… I didn't know…"

"I don't care," the man told him and wrapped his large hands around Greg's throat. He lifted the younger man off the floor, squeezing his neck tightly and cutting off his oxygen.

Greg kicked his legs wildly and clawed at the man's arms in desperation. If Nick and Warrick didn't get there soon, it would be too late.

As he struggled to breathe, he realized he and his assailant were leaving evidence for his friends to process. The man's DNA would be under his fingernails from clawing and scratching him. There may be a shoeprint left on the door the man kicked in, and he knew the stalker was not wearing gloves. With a little luck there would be recoverable fingerprints left behind.

His struggling slowed as his world began to fade; darkness began to envelop him like a warm blanket. He wished he could talk to Nick one more time to tell him that none of this was his fault. He knew the older man would blame himself. He thought he heard the voice of an angel call his name from a distance like the childhood stories Nana Olaf used to tell him.

As soon as Warrick pulled into the parking lot of Greg's apartment complex Nick noticed the Lincoln Continental parked in front of Greg's building.

"Damn it, that's the stalker's car," Nick observed as Warrick stopped the Denali behind the car. Nick jumped out of the car before it had completely stopped and pulled out his gun.

"Nick, wait!" Warrick quickly parked the car and hurried after his friend.

Nick ran up the staircase outside Greg's apartment taking the steps two at a time. He saw the opened door and sprinted inside. Warrick, followed close behind with his own gun drawn.

As they entered the apartment, Nick took in the tall burly man holding Greg off the floor by his neck. "Let him go," he yelled.

Without looking behind him, the man spun around so Greg's back was to the CSIs and was being used as an unconscious shield. "He deserves to die," the man snarled.

"No John, you don't want to do this," Nick spoke with a much calmer tone than he felt.

"Listen man, we got your prints off the lockout box. We know you sabotaged Greg's car. Don't make it worse for you by adding murder on to it," Warrick said, gun aimed firmly at the man.

"It doesn't matter; I'm still wanted for my unsuccessful attempt to kill Amanda. If she would have died your friend wouldn't be in this predicament right now."

"Just let him go," Nick pleaded and tentatively stepped closer. "He's been through so much already. He doesn't deserve this," The man appeared to be unarmed save for his hands. Warrick was right beside him with his weapon ready.

"No, I won't go back to jail!" The man suddenly threw Greg's limp body at Nick and ran down the hall in the opposite direction.

Warrick ran after John. He had never been in Greg's apartment before and had no idea where the man was going or if there was another way out of the apartment. The larger man ran into the last room at the end of the corridor that was obviously Greg's bedroom. A large bed, a small end table, and a large dresser took up most of the space in the room. There was only one large window with dark blue preventing the early morning light from seeping through. The dim glow emanating from the hallway was the only light illuminating the room. There was no way out other than the doorway he currently stood in and the two-story drop out the window.

"There's nowhere for you to go, it's over man," Warrick said calmly.

John shook his head. "I'm not going to jail over that slut and her boyfriend." He grabbed a pale blue ceramic lamp off the nightstand next to the bed and smashed it against the wall. The base of the lamp shattered upon impact, startling Warrick, but he held his grip firmly. John held the other end of the lamp out toward Warrick as if it was a knife. He stood staring at the shorter CSI, whose gun was aimed straight at him.

"Don't do it," Warrick warned the other man as he realized what he was planning. John wanted him to shoot and kill him to avoid jail.

Without saying a word, John started running across the short distance that separated them, straight at Warrick. After a moment of hesitation, Warrick fired his gun, hitting the man in the chest. His heart raced and his hands shook as he walked up to the man, crouched down, and placed two fingers on the man's neck. Upon feeling a pulse beneath his fingertips, Warrick released the breath he had not realized he'd been holding and removed his shirt to put pressure on the wound and minimize the blood flow. He then reached for his cell phone and immediately called dispatch to send two ambulances and then called Grissom to let him know what had happened.

Nick was barely ready when the crazed man threw Greg at him like a rag doll. He caught the younger man in his arms and dropped to his knees gently, preventing Greg's body from hitting the floor and causing further injuries. Nick placed his fingers on Greg's neck to check for a pulse, but felt nothing.

"No Greg, don't do this to me. You have to hold on," he pleaded as he gently laid Greg down and began CPR. Moments later that felt like a lifetime, he heard the sound of shattering glass followed by the loud unmistakable sound of a gunshot.