Thank you for the lovely reviews, they're very much appreciated. Once again I apologise if there are any mistakes.

Usual disclaimer applies...

xXx

"Nick..." Greg mumbled softly, the sound of the Texan's soft voice drifting through his mind, the comforting scent of him wafting through his subconscious until Greg pried his eyes open, gazing around at his surroundings through a hazy tint of slumber. He blinked, trying to focus as Nick's image swam in and out of his vision. Reaching up he tried to grasp at the other man but was met with only air, and a strange, settling sense of unease.

Rubbing his stinging eyes, Greg slowly took in the white walls and ceiling, the solid door and harsh overhead light. A cloud of heavy panic wormed its way into his stomach and he jerked upwards, crying out when his attempts were suddenly thwarted and he was slammed flat again. Twisting his head to the side he saw that he was lashed to the bed by thick leather straps buckled securely to his thin wrists. He tried pulling again but gave up with a pained whimper, flopping back onto the bed.

Looking as best he could around the room, Greg took deep breaths and tried to stay calm, the CSI in him knowing that he needed to find some sort of clue as where he was and how he had gotten there. Everything was a stark white, the floor clinically clean and the walls soft and spongy looking. Above him the ceiling also held no discernable clues, while the door just beyond his strapped feet was heavy and unforgiving, with a small peephole about three quarters of the way up. Greg sighed in frustration, pulling again at the straps and letting out a strangled moan.

"Please, let me go..."

The sound of the door being unlocked and opened startled him and he glanced up, his neck straining with the effort. He watched as a dark haired man entered the room and at first he was sure it was Nick, smiling at him and whispering his name but then his vision cleared and it wasn't Nick at all. It was a different man, dressed all in white to match the room, his face passive as he advanced on Greg holding a tray and what looked like a blood pressure cuff. Greg shied away from him.

"What do you want?" He gasped, unable to hide the shake of fear in his voice as the man moved calmly to stand beside him and wrapped the cuff around his arm, barely flinching when Greg yanked hard at the leather straps and yelled up at him.

"Don't touch me!"

The man continued to ignore him as he pumped up the cuff and made a mental note of the reading before releasing Greg's arm. Greg glared angrily at him and struggled again, noting how the man waited patiently for him to give up before gently cleaning his arm with a piece of sterile gauze. Greg twisted his arm but only succeeded in straining his already aching shoulders. He began to babble, words pouring out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

"Please just tell me where I am...I promise I won't fight you but I need to know...why are you doing this to me?"

The man in white remained stoic as he prepared a needle full of clear liquid. Greg's eyes widened as he continued to plead, his voice rising desperately.

"You won't get away with this. The people I work with, they'll be looking for me." He nodded, feeling the panic subside a little at the thought of the team working their hardest to look for him. They'd be sure to have noticed he was missing by now and would be working on finding clues to his whereabouts. Grissom and Catherine would be busy barking orders, and Nick wouldn't rest until he had answers. Greg turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, his chest aching painfully.

It hurt to think about Nick. He had been so close to having everything he had wanted and now these people, these nameless people with their white clothes and silence and needles had taken it away from him. Suddenly angry he lashed out again, kicking and fighting against the restraints as the man stabbed the needle into his arm and pushed the trigger. Instantly a veil dropped over Greg's eyes and he gasped, slumping back against the bed. His darkening vision locked onto the nameless man as he began to walk out of the room.

"They'll stop you, you'll see...and then you'll be sorry..."

xXx

It was an indiscernible time later when Greg's eyes flickered open and he groaned, his head swimming and his stomach rolling unpleasantly. The bright white light pierced through his hazy vision and he blinked, blurred figures slowly coming into focus as he gazed around him. Above his bed stood two more men in white and a dark haired woman dressed in a neat grey suit. Greg stared dumbly at them for a moment before recognition surged through him once more and he jolted against the leather straps still holding him place. Shaking her head the woman sighed and laid a gentle hand on his damp forehead, soothing him like a mother would a child.

"Greg, look at me. It's all right. Everything's going to be all right." Her tone was calming and Greg found himself responding to her gentle touch, his body relaxing onto the table as he panted softly. He felt a single tear fall from his eye and drip down the side of his face, and he hated himself for it.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He begged, feeling instantly guilty when the woman's face fell and she shook her head, her sleek dark hair falling over her shoulders.

"We're just trying to help you, Greg, but you keep fighting us." Gasping, Greg turned his head to the side, gazing at the men standing like guards on either side of the woman. Just behind them Greg could see a metal trolley with another tray resting innocently on top. Greg let out a whimper and turned away as the woman continued to talk.

"We just want you to get better, Greg."

Greg frowned, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind struggled to catch up. He gazed up into the kind eyes of the dark haired woman and shook his head.

"I don't understand why you're keeping me here..."

"You've been doing so well, but if you don't let us help you then you won't be able to go home. You want to go home, don't you?"

Greg gasped and nodded. Home...

"I know you do..." She smiled and gently stroked his hair, reminding him so much of Sara that he had to hold back a sob. "...Your parents have been so worried about you."

Greg blinked, gazing up at her, her words conflicting with the images in his head, the sound of her voice lulling and confusing him. He stuttered, shaking his head.

"My parents?" She nodded, sadness replacing the comforting smile.

"They just want what's best for you Greg, like we do."

Greg's head swam. He tried to reconcile his thoughts with the woman's softly spoken words but found that he could not. Fear once more built up inside him and he fought against the straps again, making the woman take a step backwards. Beside her the two men stepped forward but she held a hand out and they stilled, all three gazing down at the blonde man strapped to the bed. Greg growled at them.

"None of this makes sense. I'm a CSI, I work for the LVPD and they're going to find me. Grissom will find me."

The two men in white exchanged pitied looks before the woman stepped forward again and carefully took Greg's hand.

"No Greg, they won't. It isn't real." Greg stared up at her in horror.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not a CSI. You've been with us for nine years, Greg. It's all in your head..."

Greg arched off the table and screamed.

xXx

To be continued...