A/N: Here you go, we're that much closer to what you all have been waiting for.

Warning: This chapter contains no actual rape, but comes pretty damn close and strongly hints at it.

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Chapter Nine

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"That's enough, Rubin." Shelling said firmly.

"I'll say when it's enough!" Denalgio yelled in return.

He brought is arm back, ready to lash Gil again with the bull whip.

"Denalgio! Fifteen lashes are enough for now!"

Shelling stormed over to Denalgio and grabbed the whip out of his hand.

"There's no point," Shelling tried to calm his voice and regain control of the situation. "If he can't feel the pain. Wait until he wakes up."

Shelling turned to walk away but not before issuing another order.

"Let him down."

"What?!"

"We don't want him suffocating either." Shelling explained. "Let him down."

Denalgio hesitated, but unlocked Gil's wrist shackles, dropping him face first onto the concrete floor. The right side of his face connected with the hard surface first with a muffled thud. Shelling had walked out of the room and before Denalgio followed he spit on Gil's lifeless form.

Shelling and Denalgio walked the short distance to the office and entered through the still open door.

"Don't you think you should go after him?" Shelling asked as he sat behind the desk.

"Who, Mikey?" Denalgio had momentarily forgotten the earlier outburst.

"Yeah." Shelling was becoming exasperated.

"Nah, that kid's a pussy. He runs off crying but he'll come crawling back, begging me to take him. He was the same way in prison."

Denalgio sat down across from Shelling and propped his feet up on the desk. Shelling only nodded. He had seen how Denalgio treated the younger man and Michael O'Tool was definitely his bitch.

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The lights of Las Vegas glittered in his tear soaked eyes as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took another swig of the brew.

"Assholes." He mumbled as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "What gives them the right to fuck with me. No one fucks with Michael O'Tool."

In his mind he knew it was a lie. He had been Rubin Denalgio's bitch in prison and he was Rubin's bitch in life.

Memories of his first night in prison flashed in his mind. Rubin had gagged him and taken him hard in the ass. He squirmed in the drivers seat at the memory. That first night had been to announce his control over the eighteen year old Micheal. Every night after that had been to cement it. Which he had done so effectively in the young, impressionable man. He had to get his tray when the were taken for meals. He had to take Rubin's dirty clothes to the laundry. He had to wash Rubin in the shower.

It hadn't been without its perks though. Rubin had protected him from other thugs who would have been much worse. He had taught him to be tough. He had taught him to take it like a man. For the past five years he'd had Rubin to tell him who he was and that hadn't changed now that he was back in the free man's world. On the other hand he was a free man now. He was wasn't he?

"Of course I am!" He yelled angrily.

He downed the remainder of the beer and tossed the empty onto the floor board of the passengers side with the other five. He didn't notice that he had drifted over the yellow line.

You're not free. He thought bitterly. You're Rubin's bitch. For life.

He reached into the back seat and grabbed the other six pack he had bought at the small convenience store just outside of Vegas. He silently cursed himself for not putting it in the seat beside him but rather behind him, but what did he expect, Rubin was always telling him how stupid he was and how he wasn't smart enough to think for himself. He supposed Rubin was right. His history of bad decision making was proof enough. As he had reached for the six pack he had twitched the wheel, causing the car drift back across his lane and now it drifted over the white line and into the breakdown lane. As he turned in his seat to face forward again he saw his navigational error and twitched the wheel to bring him back into his lane proper.

As he opened a new bottle and brought it to his lips his car was filled with flashing blue lights.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath.

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Jim's feet couldn't carry him fast enough as he ran to the break room where the others gathered in their wait for news. They had been relieved when Conrad had approached them after meeting with Jim and told them that he didn't expect them to work any other cases until they found Gil. They noted that he had looked rather pale and sickly then he quickly went back to his office.

Jim burst through the door, panting for air. The others looked at him with surprised curiosity.

"We got him!" He blurted out.

They were all on their feet and rushing towards him.

"They found Gil?" Sara asked excitedly and the others looked at him in anticipation.

"No, they picked up the guy that gave us the disc."

They traveled to the police department and followed him to interrogation room one. They looked through the window at the young man with the spiked red and green hair. He sat behind the silver topped, metal table, drumming his fingers on the stainless steel surface.

"How'd they find him?" Catherine asked.

They all turned to Jim to hear his explanation.

"Two officers pulled him over on a suspected DUI. After confirming his blood alcohol level they pulled him out of the car and searched him. They found this in his pocket."

He held up an evidence bag containing Gil's lab identification badge.

"The officers called me immediately and brought him here."

They all looked back through the window and Warrick started for the door. Jim stepped in front of him, cutting him off from his goal.

"Get out of my way, Jim." His tone was low and threatening.

"You're not going in there, Rick." He warned.

"You're not in charge of this investigation." He almost yelled. "We're all in this together."

"Yeah, but Gil would be very disappointed if you lost your badge." He replied calmly.

Warrick stopped as he was taken aback. He realized that Jim was trying to protect him.

"Are you saying that you have that much more control, Jim?" Catherine gently asked.

"No, but thirty years is pretty close to retirement."

Conrad walked up behind them and addressed Jim.

"Your page sounded urgent."

"Yeah, we got the guy who gave us the disc."

Jim pointed through the window and Conrad followed his direction. When he saw the smug, young man sitting behind the table his face began to redden and he clenched his jaw.

"Let's do this." He said to Jim.

Jim and Conrad sat next to each other on the opposite side of the table as Michael O'Tool. They looked at him for a long moment before Jim finally spoke.

"Where did you get this?" He asked as he held up Gil's badge.

"Found it on a dead man." Came his cocky reply.

Jim tried not to give any signs of his increasing frustration and anger.

"Did you think you were smart, giving me that disc?"

"I thought it was a pretty funny joke." He stated smugly.

"We didn't think it was very funny." Conrad interjected.

"What's the matter?" Michael looked between the two men. "He a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact he is." Jim replied evenly.

He was surprised that he had been able to keep his calm, but he wasn't sure how long it would last.

"Where is he?"

"So, what is he?" Michael looked Jim in the eye, ignoring his question. "He your boy friend?"

His ability to stay calm against this punks arrogance was slowly slipping away and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back much longer.

"Where is he?" Jim asked again.

Jim's breathing was becoming labored and the investigators who stood behind the two way mirror took notice of the tension building in his shoulders.

"I'll tell you one thing about him."

Michael leaned forward, propping himself on the table top as he squarely looked Jim in the eye. The smile that played across his lips increased Jim's agitation and Conrad, sensing the emotions emanating from the other man, subconsciously edged a little further away in his seat.

"He gives some really, sweet head." He closed his eyes for effect. "And his ass is oh… so… tight."

No one was sure if Jim had launched himself over the table, causing it to flip over, or if he had thrown it to get it out of his way. It had happened too fast. The next thing that anyone knew was that Jim had Michael pinned against the wall, his fist connecting hard with the hot shots mouth. One of his front teeth snapped in half, breaking Jim's knuckle and causing him to bleed, and blood oozed from his busted lip. The look of pure terror on the younger man's face was no surprise to anyone when they saw the pure rage on Jim's.

"Y-y-you can't do that, m-man." He whimpered fearfully. "Cops g-got r-rules."

"You think anyone's gonna care if I grease a piece of shit like you?!" Jim roared.

Jim was furious and didn't care if he had crossed the line. He didn't care that Ecklie sat there and watched everything and would have him fired when it was over. Michael looked down, hopefully, at the gold badge hanging from Jim's front, coat pocket and then back up at Jim.

"You think this is gonna hold me back?!" Jim pointed to his badge.

He ripped the badge off of his pocket and tossed it back over his shoulder. Conrad still sat in his chair, shocked by Jim's actions. The badge landed in his lap, startling him out of his stoic state.

"I'm not going to let my career stand in the way of saving my friend. I'll even go to prison for beating the piss out of you if I have to!"

He pulled Michael away from the wall and slammed his body back against it.

"Where the hell is he?!" He yelled.

"Benedict warehouse district." Michael yelped.

"Where is it?!" Again Jim slammed him against the wall.

"It's on the other side of Moapa Town." He replied hurriedly.

Jim released his grip and called in the officer from the hall. In walked the tall, burly man with the black bushy mustache.

"Mitts, get him out of here."

The officer obeyed the order and slapped the steel cuffs on Michaels wrists.

Jim hurried out of the door, followed closely by Conrad, and met the investigators as they hurried out of the observation room. As they all hurried to the front door of the station Jim turned on his heel and looked at Greg.

"Sanders, you stay here." He ordered.

"No freakin' way."

Greg tried to push past him and Jim put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

"Greg," He spoke softly. "We don't know what we'll find out there and if the shit hits the fan you're in no position to be in a fight."

Greg was about to protest when Sara stepped forward.

"Greg, I promise that I will call you immediately if we find him."

Greg reluctantly agreed and they headed for their vehicles.

Catherine and Sara climbed into Jim's car and Warrick hopped into Nick's truck. Conrad had just connected with dispatch when he climbed behind the wheel of his Mercedes. Red and blue flashing lights pierced the dark of early morning as they sped down I-15. Jim led the convoy, followed by Nick, then Conrad, then three squad cars, the swat van and an ambulance. Jim gripped the steering wheel until he was sure that his prints would be indented into its surface. He silently prayed to God that Gil was there and more importantly that he was still alive and pressed his foot down on the accelerator, topping eighty-five.

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"I have to go to Vegas." Shelling announced. "I have some business to attend to."

He stood up and reached for the dress coat that he had draped over the back of his chair. Denalgio looked at him and smirked.

"You know," He took a swig from his beer bottle. "If it's a lay you're looking for, that's why the old man's still here."

"Not all of us dwell on sex, Rubin." He pulled on his coat and adjusted the cuffs. "What will you do when Mister Grissom is dead?"

"I'll go back to fucking that little skank O'Tool." His statement was nonchalant and as-a-matter-of-fact.

Shelling just shook his head and walked out of the office. He crossed the short distance to the front door and stepped into the cool, Nevada morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the distant hills and he smiled as he stood for a moment to admire its beauty. When he was done with his admiration he climbed into the drivers seat of his luxury sedan and drove towards the city.

As he left the outskirts of the small town his brow creased as he saw the flashing lights in the distance. He didn't slow down as he passed the procession of cop cars, a swat van and an ambulance. Once he passed them he released his rage on the inside of his vehicle and accelerated towards Vegas.

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The thought of a good lay made Denalgio's cock twitch and he rubbed it through his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at the door and made his decision. He set his beer bottle down on the desk and walked across the hall to the utility room. He picked up the two gallon metal pail and put it in the sink, filling it with ice cold water from the tap.

He walked to the room where Gil still lay, unconscious and bloody, on the floor. He walked through the open door and his sadistic smile returned when he saw the lifeless form face down on the cold, grey surface. He stood over Gil and slowly poured the two gallons of ice water over his tortured back. He laughed at Gil's surprised cry as he was ripped back to consciousness and squirmed under the cascading water fall. When the bucket was empty he tossed it aside where it hit the floor with a resounding clang. He unlocked the shackles from Gil's ankles and pulled him to his feet. With quite a bit of rough coaxing, which included several slaps to his battered face, he forced Gil to stand upright.

"You've had a couple of hours of rest," He mocked. "Now it's time to return you to your purpose."

Denalgio closed the gap between them and rubbed himself against Gil's crotch. Realization forced its way through the haze in Gil's mind and he reluctantly shook his head as tears formed in his eyes.

"Please," He whispered, his voice shaky and pleading. "Please don't rape me again."

Denalgio threw him against the wall, the back of his head connecting hard with the concrete.

He blacked out momentarily and pain shot through his skull. Instinctively he grabbed Denalgio's shoulders. Not to push him away but to keep himself upright. Denalgio wrapped a big hand around Gil's throat and slammed his head against the wall again then delivered two punches to Gil's broken ribs. A cry of pain barely escaped Gil's throat and darkness had encroached again until he received the painful blows to his side.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Denalgio yelled.

Gil obediently dropped his arms to his sides and Denalgio relaxed his grip on Gil's throat.

Gil's head swam as he was overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness. He wasn't sure if it was because his head had been slammed against the wall or because he knew what was about to come next. Denalgio's face was almost touching Gil's as he spoke and Gil kept his eyes down watching his moving lips.

"As for the fucking… you don't want to disobey me do you?"

"No, sir." Gil whispered.

Denalgio reached down and grabbed Gil's shaft, giving it a hard squeeze. Gil whimpered and Denalgio grabbed him by his curly locks and pulled him over to the table.

Denalgio pushed him face first over the wooden table top and Gil grabbed the edge when Denalgio slapped him hard on the ass. The whipping lacerations on his chest and stomach and the broken ribs from his first beating screamed out in pain. The numbness offered by the ice water on his back had quickly faded when he was thrown against the wall and the concrete scraped against the lacerations. Gil tensed as he heard Denalgio unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

Gil felt a renewed sense of humiliation as he realized that this time he was a willing participant. He wasn't restrained this time and he hadn't put up a fight. Truth be told he was scared to put up a fight, scared to receive a worse punishment. He knew he was going to die, Shelling had already decided that. Now he just hoped that if he stopped fighting them, if he obeyed and did what they wanted, they would hurry up and end it. Fresh tears of degradation reached his eyes and rained down on the table's surface as Denalgio roughly parted his cheeks and pushed a thumb inside. Lost in the moment neither Denalgio or Gil heard the noise from down the hall.

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There had been too many buildings to cover so they decided to break into teams. Jim, Nick and Sara entered one of the buildings on the back side of the lot. On the outside it appeared to be to same as all the others. Grey sheet metal siding. A regular door with a window in it and beside that a large door for the docking bay inside. Jim looked through the window and when he was satisfied that there was no one visible he carefully opened the door. All three had their weapons drawn and Sara followed Jim and Nick followed Sara. They noted the black, Chevy van that had been the get away car and Nick lifted the radio to his lips, informing the rest of the team of their findings.

"Las Vegas Police." Jim called out.

There was no reply. They made their way across the bay and to the short hallway on the other side of the room.

"Get you fucking hands off me!" A voice yelled from the room at the end of the hall.

They all froze and instinctively threw themselves back against the wall. Jim looked back at them and they both nodded to continue.

As Jim came closer to the door, being careful to check the two rooms before it, he saw something that horrified him. Gil was bent over the table against the wall and a man that he recognized only from the video was grabbing his ass. Infuriated, Jim ran into the room and was followed closely by Sara and Nick.

"Las Vegas police!" He yelled.

Denalgio's head snapped up and he immediately recovered from his surprise. In a flash he pulled the nine millimeter hand gun out of the back of his pants and brought it up level with Jim's face. Two shots rang out in the small room. Then there was silence.

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A/N: Do you think Jim will make it??? Or will he die saving his best friend??? By the way, did I tell you that I'm going on a two week vacation to the mountains and I'm leaving tomorrow. It kind of sucks that I won't have access to a computer, but I'm sure you guys won't mind waiting 'til I get back.

Just kiddingJ If your past reviews have anything to say I'm pretty sure that I would get some death threats if I did thatJ

I think I'll start using Ellie's answering machine message.

"Hey this is Esther, you know what to do."