-Greg-

He could feel those cold hands touch his bare back and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Does it hurt?" asked that cold voice.

Greg shook his head. The rope binding his hands was starting to eat into his skin. But it was the fact that his hands were cold and Greg was starting to burn up. It couldn't be helped, considering Greg hadn't really had a decent shower in a while.

"Well, if it doesn't hurt..."

Greg hissed in disapproval as those cold, strong arms surrounded him. "What?"

"Aw, Sanders, don't be like that. You're gonna be free soon enough. For now, I've left your work-family a present at your house."

Greg turned his head, which earned him a good whack to the back of the skull. He put his head down and tried to endure it. It had been a while since he'd been "fanny-smacked" and the pain to his head was probably going to be worse if he fought back now.

-Nick-

He was leaning on his knees, his thumbs pressed into his forehead. He kept muttering things Greg would say about his outside life. Trying to find some clue as to what he might have missed in all of Greg's stories.

But he was drawing a blank.

"Sir?"

His head snapped up.

"Hey!" he whispered. "Melissa?"

"Julie, actually." She smiled as she rolled onto her side. "You're Nick."

"How...?"

She smiled softly at Nick. "Greg told me. He likes how friendly you are." She closed her eyes again. "My full name is Julie-Melissa Greene." She reached out to Nick. "Greg always brought me here when I'd show up on his doorstep."

"You're a twenty-year-old, right?"

"Yeah. Because I look like a child, my dad doesn't let me out." Julie's little hand closed around two of Nick's fingers. "There's something you should know..."

-Catherine and Langston-

"Catherine!"

She followed the sound of Langston's voice into Greg's closet. "What?"

He was looking at the shelf system Greg had set up. "Notice anything?"

She examined the boxes. She didn't get what he was saying.

Langston tapped the handwriting on one of the boxes. "Greg. Greg. Unknown. Unknown. Greg. Greg. And Greg."

"Two boxes that don't belong." Catherine was reaching up when a little corner of something caught her eye. She slowly lifted the box and pulled out the envelope. "Hello, what are you?"

"You sound like Greg."

Catherine gave Sara a face and smiled. "What's up?"

"We found something in the backyard. The small, cramped, dessert backyard."

"How did Greg live like this and none of us knew?"

Sara shrugged. "All I know is that we found some blood in the shaving cream and the mildew shows that Greg's been missing at least three days."

Langston made a face. "Three days. That's the maximum to find a missing person alive."

The dead silence was punctuated, rather crudely, by an officer yelling from the front door.

"A CAR MATCHING CSI SANDERS' HAS BEEN LOCATED!"

-Nick-

His heart took a nose-dive and then a hurtling leap.

They found his car. But it was a helicopter. It was Greg's car... in the middle of the dessert... parked near a cactus.

He looked over his shoulder at Melissa, who'd fallen asleep with her arm hanging off the end of the bed.

This was the chance he'd gotten. Greg might actually still be alive. The only friend who'd gotten under his skin the way Warwick couldn't. The only person who could send Nick into a fist of rage or a blast of defeat.

Greg might ACTUALLY be alive!