Buried Alive

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Disclaimer: Same as first chapter

Chapter 3:

Greg moaned weakly, rolling his head on the hard surface beneath him. His head was pounding like two bongo drums being played by an annoying monkey and it hurt like a bitch. He groaned again as he lifted his head to figure out what the hell was going on. The last thing he remembered was heading out to a crime scene with Nick. His forehead suddenly hit something hard and his heart pounded frantically against his chest. He had a dreaded feeling that he was in a bad place right now, but it was so dark and he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

"Help!" His voice was dry and it hurt to talk. "N-Nick?" But all he heard was the sound of his own frantic breathing. His ribs started burning- though he didn't remember why- and it hurt to breathe. He needed to relax. Alright Greg just calm down; what would Nick do? Figure out where you are. Greg blindly felt around and it dawned on him where he was; in some sort of box

"No," he whispered. This couldn't be happening. Maybe…well he couldn't think of any other explanation for being in an enclosed space like this. He felt around with his left hand by his waist and his fingers brushed something cold. And even though he had barely touched one, he knew it had to be a gun. On the other side, he tried moving his right arm but pain shot up through his shoulder. He cried out in pain, breathing heavily through his nose, however the thin oxygen in the space that he was in didn't help. He could barely keep a breath and he prayed for the pain to go away soon. It felt like a dislocated shoulder, but when had that happened? As his whimpering ceased, Greg carefully just moved his hand around and found an object he recognized as a flashlight; there was something else that felt pretty bulky but he couldn't figure out what it was. Fumbling with the flashlight and keeping his upper arm still, he pressed the button, dimly illuminating the small space. Greg shined it on the thing in his hand and saw that it was a Dictaphone. His heart sped up, tears forming in his ears; he knew what this was.

"Oh god, please no." He pressed the play button and prayed that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Hello CSI Sanders,

I'm guessing you might already know where you are. Well, if you're smart enough, you probably already figured out that I've buried you alive."

Greg closed his eyes, tears dripping down his face while a shiver ran through his body even though it was starting to get really stuffy. It was really happening.

"And I bet you're wondering who I am, right? Not gonna answer that question but you're here, because you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, for one. I could've taken Stokes, but you were just there…alone and vulnerable. However, this is mostly about revenge. Your other CSI friends are probably finding out what happened to you by now, but they'll never find you…alive anyways. You CSI's pissed of the wrong guy and now you're paying the price. You will suffer a long, torturous five hour death…unless you use the gun I gave you and shoot yourself in the head and it'll all be over quick and easy. It's your choice; either way, you're never gonna see the light of day again. You don't have much air so use it wisely. But no matter what, you're gonna die here."

The recording ended leaving Greg in a petrified shock. His chest heaved with harsh breaths and his hands trembled causing him to drop the Dictaphone and flashlight onto his chest; tears flowed out and he felt like puking. Terrified and hysterical, Greg pounded his fists on the cover of his wooden coffin completely ignoring the pain in his arm or ribs; this really couldn't be happening. He had to be dreaming, it had to be another one of his nightmares from almost losing Nick to this exact same problem. But Nick was stronger than him; and even though his kidnapper said he had four hours to live, he didn't think he could do that. He was gonna die and there was no way to change that. It took almost twelve hours to find Nick; they were never gonna find him in time.

"Somebody! Somebody please help me!" He wheezed while sobbing violently. He tried scratching at the wood, but he already felt warm liquid dripping down his fingers. "Heeelllppp!"

~+CSI+~

Nick paced the light room anxiously. Hodges had taken the flash drive for prints so now they all had to wait to look at the contents. But all of them knew it wouldn't be something good. Greg had been fucking buried alive. Nick couldn't believe this was really happening. Greg didn't deserve to be going through the same shit that he had. The kid was as innocent as they came; who the hell would do this? He groaned inwardly, holding his tears at bay. He suddenly heard rushed footsteps and his heart jumped as the team followed Grissom into the room.

"Anything?" Nick asked hopefully.

"No; it was clean."

"Dammit." But why was he surprised? Did he really think it would be that easy? However, now was the big moment.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Nick?" Catherine whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

The Texan hesitated, feeling everyone's eyes on him. "Y-Yeah, just put the thing in already."

Without a word, Grissom plugged the USB into the computer and a window immediately popped up with a single website link.

" ?" Sara frowned. "That's Latin right?"

"It means 'his death comes soon.'" Grissom knew he was gonna regret clicking this link, but they needed to see Greg…mostly Nick needed to, but if they were gonna find the kid, this was the place to start. Moving the arrow over the website, Grissom clicked it and it brought them to another blank window. A microphone crackled and a distorted voice filled the room.

"You probably don't know who I am and I bet you want to know. But I'll get to that in a moment; it seems that you're missing someone in your group."

Nick clenched his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into his palm.

"You destroyed my family, now I'm gonna do the same to you. Greg Sanders will never see the light of day again. An eye for an eye; my father for your CSI. Have you guessed who I am yet?"

Grissom sorted through his mind thinking of who could be doing this. Whose father did they kill? Dammit, it could be anyone. Nick looked at his boss with a thoughtful frown on his face as the recording continued.

"But I'm a generous person and I'll give you a chance; one billion dollars in five hours to pay for my pain and suffering. Time is running out and there isn't much air left for him…there'll be even less when he starts to panic. Well, maybe I should let you see for yourself."

A button popped up on the screen telling them to click; and as soon as Grissom did, hoarse screaming blasted out of the speakers. Greg's hoarse screaming.

"Oh god." Nick closed his eyes and wiped his face. This couldn't be happening…but it was. This whole fucking nightmare was real.

In the camera, they could see Greg desperately pounding his fists on the wood, crying for help…completely terrified.

"Nick! Sara! Somebody please!" His screams were heart-breaking and it was killing the Texan to hear it…he couldn't take it anymore and he bolted out of the room just as Grissom muted the speakers. Warrick glanced at Catherine before following his best friend into the hallway. Grissom pursed his lips and bowed his head sadly; he couldn't believe this was happening again. And to the youngest of the team; the kid didn't need this.

"Wait, Gil look," Catherine pointed to the screen and Greg's video disappeared, a different face popping up. And now they knew who it was.

"Guess you didn't think hard enough. Remember me now Grissom? Paul Millander…you caused him to commit suicide. Now I have no one because of you. You'll never find your boy in time…but happy hunting."

"Craig Mason's doing this? Paul Millander's adopted son?" Sara frowned.

"I'll call Jim," Catherine whispered angrily, pulling out her phone. Now that they knew who kidnapped her surrogate son, it was all easy sailing from then on. Catch Mason, force the guy to tell them where Greg was, find the kid and it'd be all over. But everyone knew it probably wouldn't be that easy…because when was it ever?

~+CSI+~

Warrick found Nick in the locker room, sitting on the bench, his head in his hands. This whole thing was bringing back unwanted memories; for everyone but mostly for Nick. Warrick sighed as he sat down next to the guy.

"You alright, man?"

Nick exhaled heavily and shook his head. "No Rick, why would you ask that question?"

Warrick remained silent knowing that the Texan needed to vent.

"I'm sorry…I'm just…"

"I understand Nicky; it's tough, being on the outside…literally."

"Is this exactly how you felt when I…you know?"

"Yeah, it sucks, man."

Nick sniffed; he refused to cry. It wouldn't get him anywhere…but he was getting dangerously close to letting the dam break. "This shouldn't be happening, especially not to Greggo. I would've rather it happen to me again if it meant he was safe."

"Hey, we all wish it was one of us instead of Greg; but we gotta get our heads in the game, catch the son of a bitch that did this and bring Greg home. It'll be tough, but we can do this; are you ready?"

Nick wiped a hand down his face, but nodded. He was gonna find Greg; at any and all costs he was gonna bring his little brother home alive and energetic as ever. "Let's do this." They were getting Greg back and that was final.

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TBC…

A/N: Now I know what some of you are thinking: why did I give away Craig so quickly. Well, you'll find out; it's all part of the story. Stay tuned! REVIEWS!