Greg was seated next to the bed when he came back in. Greg looked up and quickly stood up when he saw that his captor was bringing in food.

"Hungry? I know you always buy this for your breakfast." He laid the food out on the bed. "Pick and chose. Whatever you don't want, I'll take." He touched Greg's cheek with his rough hands and as gently as he seemed to be.

Greg looked down at the food. "What do you want from me anyways?"

He put his forehead against Greg's. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, I actually don't." Greg looked into those amber eyes. "I'm sorry. With your dark hair it's hard to say."

He smiled. "I'm Ivan. Julie's daddy."

Greg's eyes widened. Julie's eyes were bright amber, her hair was a soft brown. Whatever they had in common started with the eyes...

-Nick-

He had Catherine pull up to Greg's curb side. It had been a few months since then.

Greg's front lawn was neat and green. There was a box of flowers beside the front door, just under his front windows showing his kitchen. The garage door was propped open, like Greg always left it. There was a newspaper propped against the front door and a small stack of mail next to it.

"Are you sure, Nikki?"

"Yeah, this is his house." Nick undid his seat belt. "I know where he put the key."

"He asked you into his house?" Catherine asked, the surprise evident.

"He told me to unlock the door when I picked him up for that 4th of July party I went to." Nick sat back and took a deep breath. When he looked to his right, he saw Sara and Langston standing side-by-side, waiting for Catherine and Nick to get out. "C'mon, I'll show you." He pushed the door open and stepped onto Greg's street. He let the others linger back while he ran his fingers along the box planter and felt the cool metal. He tugged the key out and stuck it in the lock.

However, he felt the door give from that little force. He quickly released the key and door knob. He reached back and pulled out his gun.

Catherine came up beside him, her own gun drawn. "Let's go in. The officers are on their way."

Nick looked down. "When did you...?"

Catherine smiled. "My own, don't worry." She faced the door. "Brass is on his way, he's only two blocks away."

Nick nodded and gently pushed the door open with his gun. Slowly, the darkness of Greg's house was illuminated the hallway with it's bleak, white-washed walls. There was a small mirror beside hooks that held keys and above a small, neat row of shoes, toes outward, heels against the wall. Greg's keys were simple to figure out. Down the hall four feet and to the left, Nick came into the kitchen.

The white tiles on the counter were clean and there was a lot of freed up counter space. A half-used roll of paper towels stood on the metallic dispenser under the last cabinet. The stove was against the far wall from the protruding counter and the windows above the stove were letting in a small stream of sunset through the eggshell, lace curtains. There was an open can of soda beside the sink, where there was one bowl of mostly-eaten-cereal and mostly-drunk-milk.

"Clear!" Nick turned down the hallway just beside the counter. It only lead into a laundry room.

Greg had a neat stack of newspapers in front of the dryer and a fresh load of laundry folded nicely atop the dryer. There was an open bottle of liquid detergent, the cap wasn't anywhere nearby, on the floor in front of the washer.

Nick turned around and headed to the right of the entry hall. He found Catherine standing with her back to a door. She pointed into the bathroom.

"For Greg, that's gotta be dirty."

Nick put his gun away and looked into the bathroom.

There were four disposable razors on the counter, along side an open tube of toothpaste that had oozed onto the faucet's handle. There was an unused toothbrush in the sink and a highly used on in shaving cream. The mirrors were all smudged and his toilet looked brown. The shower doors were fogged with mildew and smelled weird.

"Did you check the bedroom?"

Catherine shook her head. "Ready?"

Nick braced for another dose of Greg's life. He pulled out his gun, just in case something came out of there.

The door opened into a kind of small bedroom. There was a wall that had been transformed into a working library. There were books on one side, CDs on the other side, and DVDs all along the bottom. A computer stood on sleep on a dark table, the keyboard tucked neatly under with a shelf. The printer was on the floor, but the wires still connected it. Beside the computer was a tower of a media player. A flat screen was across from the library wall.

"Bedroom?" Nick asked.

Catherine shrugged. "This would be the first time I've been here."

Just then, Nick spotted a second door. It was to the right of the door they'd just come into. He gently pushed and it gave way.

Inside was a warm-colored room. The walls were plastered with photos that had been missing from the rest of the house. Nothing had a frame. There were photos of a graduation party, dinner, and ceremony from a local high school and college. There were birthdays and dinners and first dates. There were aging parents and a growing boy. There was nothing indicating Greg didn't live there.

The sheets were black with brown designs. The pillows were slightly off and one was on the floor. The mattress was on the floor, but there was a painted headboard behind it. The bedside tables held no lamps, but something that looked like those flameless candles. The closet was open and cloths were all thrown into some order. Pants and socks and all that were folded nicely in little drawers under the shirts, suits, and jackets.

Nick and Catherine lowered their weapons when they saw the room at large.

"It's like Greg at work is all over this room," Catherine commented. She looked up at the ceiling fan, it was still going. "What...?"

-Greg-

He looked up at his new ceiling. The fan's gentle swooshing noise was what helped him sleep. How could he sleep in silence? He looked at the rays of sunset hitting the opposite wall.

He hoped that they'd be in his house, as welcome as if they were in his lab. Greg smiled to himself and curled up on his right side, watching the last of the sun vanish from his little prison cell. He was all alone now and all he had was Ivan.

Maybe Ivan was right about how Greg should feel...