While I waited for the coffee to brew, I decided to sneak away to the bathroom to wash my face again. Normally I would be bothered by people seeing me without any make up on, but I was slowly getting used to the idea of being at the lab while being completely au naturel. Nick had mentioned that there was the potential for a skin or other reaction with the chemicals used in the lab to process evidence. I had even started buying some natural, mineral cosmetics to wear since this was the environment in which I wanted to work until the day I was forced to retire. Plus, I really did like coving up my flaws so I needed something that would help with that illusion.

After I splashed cold water on my face, I noticed that the restroom was completely silent. Silent rooms weren't usually somewhere I sought out except for when I was studying. Even then it was so that no other noise would be competing when I put on my headphones to listen to my music. But right now, the quiet was more than welcomed. I expected the lab to be busy and for there to be an unending murmur of conversations, but I hadn't really thought about how tonight Nick would be the main topic of conversation and by extension so would I. I've never been comfortable with being the center of attention, so tonight I was feeling even more uneasy.

Yeah, I was a special case. I've even had a couple of psychology majors at UNLV approach me to interview or study me. Somehow, they were able to figure out who I was and wanted to use my experience to research the long-term effects of domestic violence on children into adulthood. Plus, my biological parents' case had garnered quite a bit of media attention when it all played out. Despite the efforts of the Social Services workers assigned to my case, I quickly became the poster child for 'Victims of Domestic Violence'. When I was writing my Undergraduate paper, I hadn't paid attention to any photos that accompanied the articles at all because that wasn't my focus, so I hadn't made the connections between the story and my past. But they did and I had declined their offers as politely as I could, saying I had my own studies to focus on right now. Truth was, I just didn't want my past getting out, especially publicly on a wide scale, because I knew it would turn into whispered conversations in the hallways as I passed and I never wanted that spotlight shining on me, not while I was still at school.

Then again, you probably didn't even have to go that far back in my family history to explain that aversion. My parents… uhh… the Stokes that is, are both very accomplished in their fields, so they had high expectations their children, myself included. Thankfully I had the same aspirations for myself, so I worked hard while I was in high school so that I could set a firm foundation to accomplish my future goals on the schedule I had predetermined when I was a freshman. And since I was their only 'child' at home during that time, I had to dress up and play the part while being paraded around at their parties to how their friends how talented and skillful their children were. Yeah, so I was the poster child of the perfect Stokes offspring my senior year of high school. Because of that I have had my fill of being an example. Now I just wanted to be allowed to be me and figure out how I was feeling about any topic on my own terms and in my own time.

And I think I finally found the room where I could do that. I went to the end of the counter that was furthest from the door and sat down on it. As I pushed my body tight into the corner, I pulled my knees up under my oversized hoody so that I was in a compact ball. Once my hood was securely placed over the ballcap on my head, I buried my face into my knees and quietly started to cry again. I don't even know why my tears were falling, so I wasn't really sure how to make them stop. Not that I really wanted to or anything. In here, I could let all of those feelings leak out and then I could wash up before anyone in the lab could witness my moment of weakness.

Who would want to hurt Nick? Or were they just grabbing any CSI to get back at the department? If that's what's really going on, what are the chances he's still alive? Well, I get that depends on what their endgame is after nabbing someone from here, right?

My tears continued to fade as I started to brainstorm theories. After pulling out a couple of tissues I had tucked away into my pockets while I was in the break room, I blew my nose and dried my cheeks. So far, I had convinced myself that Nick would be more valuable to a kidnapper alive than he would dead, so I wouldn't start mourning any losses just yet.

Alright, so if he's still alive, what…?

My thoughts got cut off by the sound of the door to the ladies' room opening. I was still almost completely hidden under my hoody, but I still tried to disappear into the shadows of the room so that the newcomer wouldn't see me.

"Uhh… Excuse me?" She called out as she walked deeper into the room. "I'm sorry, but you can't sleep here."

Shit. So much for my sanctuary.

I flipped the hood off my head and let my feet fall off the counter so that I could sit up straighter. Before I faced the intruder, I tried to get my emotions in check… or as in check as I could right now. I took off my hat so that all of my hair that I had tucked under it would tumble down my back.

As I combed my hair back with my fingers and replaced the cap on my head I heard, "Nicco? Is that really you?"

I turned my head and smiled replying, "Yeah, Constable Martinez, it's me."

"Michelle, Nicco. Please call me Michelle." She hurried over to where I was still seated with my legs hanging over the edge saying, "I heard about Nick. I am so sorry…"

"Don't," I interrupted as I shook my head. "Don't… I mean… Thank you for the sentiment, but you aren't to blame, so you don't need to apologize."

"Right, I know. But… How are you? Well, you're hiding in the bathroom, so that answers that. But… well… Is there anything I can do for you? Anything that you need right now?"

Shaking my head I replied, "All I want right now are answers so that we can get Nicky home."

"Of course. How dumb of me."

"Not dumb," I stated as I placed my hand on her forearm. "Like I said before, I appreciate the thought and I'm doing… Okay-ish. Just wish Dr. Grissom and Catherine had better answers for me other than 'I don't know'. But… I know they'll figure it out. I just hate waiting."

"I can totally understand where you're coming from. But Nicco? Don't forget you can always call me if you need someone to talk to about anything."

"Thanks, Const-… err… Michelle. I promise I haven't forgotten or deleted you from my contacts. I've just been so focused on everything for the internship that I haven't really had time to think about much else."

"The internship! Right. How…? I mean, have you…?"

"I'm in. I'm scheduled to start in two weeks… uhh… that's if… Shit. Well, I guess that's something I'll have to discuss with Dr. Grissom now."

Constable Martinez gripped my hand gently and said, "I wouldn't worry about that too much. I'm sure that once all of this is over, it will be up to you if you want to continue or not."

"Yeah, I guess you might be right."

"Nicco, you know that I am. Now, I have to get to my patrols, but don't hesitate to call if you need anything… anything at all, okay?"

"I promise I won't. Thanks again for your support."

She left the room and I turned to face my reflection. Surprisingly, my eyes weren't as red or as puffy as I had thought they would be. I still took a few minutes to run the cold water until it felt closer to being icy cold and splashed a couple of handfuls into my face. That helped to wake me up a bit, but I had hit that point of exhaustion that I knew only caffeine or a nap would help to take the edge off.

I gave my reflection another quick look before even thinking of leaving the room. Man, did I look tired. Just seeing how tired I looked made me feel even more exhausted. But I couldn't give into it yet. First, I had to find out if the team had found answers to ANY of our questions. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, put my cap back on my head and forced my feet to move so I could exit the room. I wouldn't find anything useful by hiding from everybody.

As I slowly made my way back to the break room, I froze in my place when I heard one of the technicians yelling for security. It looked like there was a bit of a commotion at the reception desk as Nick's team had rushed out to help the tech, as well as a couple of security guards with someone I couldn't see who was yelling and struggling with them. I was too far away to hear what was being said, but Dr. Grissom and Catherine definitely did not look happy.

By the time I reached Greg's side, I heard Dr. Grissom ask in a thoroughly annoyed tone, "What trace?"

Hodges shook his head and realized his mistake. No one else in the room had seen the envelope. He then answered in a slightly apologetic voice, "It's about Nick."

He then stepped to one side so that everyone could look at said envelope. I stared at the group and couldn't quite keep up with what they were doing or saying. As soon as my brain registered his words, it almost completely shut down. I probably would have fallen over if Greg wasn't right at my side to catch me.

"Nicco… hey…" He stated just over a whisper as he helped me to follow the group to one of the labs. "Hey, this is a god thing."

"It is?" I asked in a dumbfounded, disbelieving tone. "How?"

He had me tucked into his side while we watched Dr. Grissom work on processing the evidence. "The kidnappers are reaching out."

"And that's good?" I asked absentmindedly.

I know I was sounding less than intelligent, but like I said, it felt like my brain wasn't working properly. Now had I been able to think clearly, I would have been able to understand the dots that Greg was wanting me to connect. Hell, if this was an in-class or tutorial intellectual challenge, I probably would have had it solved by now. But it wasn't and my concern for Nick was my ability to think clearly and critically.

Sara leaned forward from where she was leaning against the wall and to my forearm in a gentle hold. "Nicco, you that it is. Right now, silence from the abductor…"

"Would be worse," I finished for her. I turned my head to look into her concerned eyes and added, "If they ask for a ransom, we'll probably get proof of life. Thanks Sara."

She gave me a tight smile before she went back to rubbing her temples while we waited for Dr. Grissom to finish his work. Greg squeezed my shoulders in a side hug, but thankfully didn't let me go. Even if he couldn't figure out a way to get me to use my deductive reasoning to get to an answer, he had figured out that I was having trouble standing on my own.

Eventually all of us ended up around a desk in the lab. Dr. Grissom placed the cassette that he extracted from the mystery envelope into a player and hit play. I held my breath while I waited for some evil laughter or some other typical "Batman villain-esque" voice to come through the speakers. Instead, I heard a catchy retro rock tune as The Turtles 'Outside Chance' played. I quickly looked around the room to check that I wasn't hallucinating, and everyone looked as confused as I felt.

When we all settled into the room, I ended up between Catherine and Greg. He kept his right arm around my waist to help me stand upright, but I jumped all on my own when Catherine softly cursed out, "That son of a bitch. He's screwing with us."

She then gripped my left arm as if to apologize, so I shook my head. Before I could tell her not to worry about it, Dr. Grissom held up a USB drive that had been placed in the envelope with the cassette tape. We all followed him in silence to one of the computers when he placed it into the drive. I couldn't really see what was happening until Greg pulled me closer to the group. Hell, I hadn't noticed that I had stayed so far away from everyone until I felt him touch my wrist.

I smiled at him gratefully, but it fell away when I read the message on the screen. ONE MILLION DOLLARS IN 12 HOURS… OR THE CSI DIES… DROP OFF INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW… AND NOW FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE… YOU CAN ONLY 'WATCH'.

Dr. Grissom clicked on the bubble that said 'WATCH'. The blank screen was then filled with the image of Nick holding his hands up to shield his eyes from the light that had illuminated. For a moment my eyes couldn't focus on anything but Nick's face. His rugged, utterly handsome face.

He's alive, I thought as relieved tears threatened to form. Alright, but WHERE is he?

It took a lot of effort, but I managed to force my eyes to move away from his face. But as they scanned the area around his head, nothing else about the picture made sense. It looked like there was sand or dirt all around him, but he wasn't getting dirty or crushed by it. And it didn't look like he had much room to move around.

Is he laying down?

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Nick started to take in his surroundings. It seemed like we all came to the same conclusion at the same time because a look of pure horror overtook his confused expression. A couple of us gasped out "OH… MY… GOD…" when we realized he was buried alive.

I then turned and ran out of the room. It wasn't that I couldn't watch the silent video of him anymore (although that was a major part of it). I needed to make some phone calls to see if I could pull together the money to pay the ransom to get him home.

Of course, I didn't tell anyone that, so Greg reached out to try to catch my arm and stop me. Warrick just as quickly gripped Greg's left arm and said, "Let her go, Greg. She shouldn't have to see him like this right now."

Greg opened his mouth to argue, but just as quickly thought better of it. The two of them turned back to the screen and fell silent into their own thoughts while they watched Nick silently screaming in the video.