A/N: Thank you to anyone who is still reading this! A big thank you to Emmithar for forcing me (quite literally, lol) to write this again after I had abandoned it for so long. Please enjoy!

Capture:

Chapter Ten:

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Damn it. He hadn't heard her coming. Feeling her breath against the back of his neck, Greg immediately let go of the board he was prying away from the window, his hands falling limply to his sides as he took a deep, steadying breath. This could not possibly end well. He slowly turned around, hating that he was caught off guard, and tried to formulate some sort of excuse, but was stopped before he had chance to speak.

"Did you really think you could get away with it?" Alyssa laughed, "What exactly did you plan on doing if you did escape? Did you think you could walk through the desert, shoeless and half dressed, and just stumble back into Vegas? Are you really that stupid?"

Greg remained silent, his hands clenched into tight fists. If it weren't for the gun attached to her hip, he would have hit her. He had never felt so much hatred towards another human being before, it was so powerful, so intense, that it scared him. A familiar wave of dizziness hit and he leaned against the wall to steady himself. He hated being so weak.

"You need to be taught a lesson."

Greg raised an eyebrow, eyeing his captor with a hint of skepticism. What was she going to do, eat him? She'd already tried, and at this point he could care less, as long as he walked out of this prison alive. He was fairly certain she wasn't going to kill him, since by his calculations, he had been held against his will for at least three weeks now.

Without saying a word, Alyssa turned and exited the room, slamming the door forcefully behind her. Greg's hand twitched, the desire to start working on the window again overpowering him, but he forced himself to stand still. He knew she'd be back, and he had already made her angry enough for one day.

Sure enough, moments later she returned, carrying several straps in her hands, "Lay down," She instructed, motioning towards the bed, "I will not have you trying to escape me again."

"So you're going to leave me chained to a bed?" Greg scowled, glaring at her, yet doing what he was told. Even though he felt strongly that Alyssa wasn't going to kill him, at least not yet, he wasn't stupid enough to provoke her any more than he already had. After being shot, beaten, and almost consumed more than once, he knew better than to protest, especially when his captor was armed.

She wordlessly strapped his arms and legs to the bed frame, gently caressing his bruises as he winced in pain, "I'm sorry, but you need to be taught a lesson."

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again!" Greg pleaded, hating himself for caving, but unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth, "I'm sorry! Please don't!"

"You have to be taught a lesson." Alyssa replied simply, refusing to meet his eyes as she tighten the straps holding him down.

"What are you doing?" Greg demanded as she began to strap his chest to the bed as well, "Are you insane?"

Alyssa only laughed as she pulled out a roll of plastic wrap from the back pocket of her jeans. She lifted his head, wrapping the plastic around several times, barely leaving enough space for him to breathe through his nose, seemingly oblivious to Greg's struggle against her. She gave him a light pat on the head before exiting the room once more, leaving Greg to wonder what she possibly had in store for him. Was she going to suffocate him? Would this finally be the end?

His eyes were shut when she entered the room once more, and he closed them tighter as he felt her breathing against his skin. He didn't want to know what she was about to do, it would be easier if he didn't have a chance to mentally prepare himself.

He was wrong.

His eyes flew open as he felt water pour over him, soaking his shirt, his face, his hair…he immediately began to cough and gag as he struggled against the restraints. This was how he was going to die, she was going to drown him. He turned his head from side to side, struggling to breathe, only to find that the plastic triggered his gag reflex more as he inhaled. Coughing and sputtering, he tried to signal to Alyssa to stop. He had learned his lesson, he wasn't going to try and escape again. If she stopped what she was doing, he would never go against her wishes again.

The water stopped and she plastic was pushed away as he gasped for breath, his entire body violently shaking. He tried to find the words to apologize, to beg for forgiveness and a pardon from her punishment, but he found himself unable to speak, still feeling as if he were being held underwater.

"This is for your own good, Gregory." She spoke softly, as if speaking to a young child, "The sooner you learn what behavior won't be tolerated, the sooner we can begin to have a functioning relationship."

Greg only whimpered, tears streaming down his face. How had this happened? What did she want from him? Wasn't anyone going to save him? Were they even looking? How much longer would he have to go through this?

The plastic covered his mouth again and the water cascaded upon him once more, sending him into a full blown panic attack, despite his best efforts to stay calm. His heart racing, blood pounding through his ears, he knew this would be the end. The harder he struggled to breathe, his chest growing increasingly tight, the more it felt as if he was going to suffocate, to drown. As he started to lose consciousness, his mind was bombarded by a rapid assault of images from the last couple of weeks.

Waking up alone and disoriented, the beatings, which had stopped after he started to comply with her wishes, slowly working on removing the heavy board covering the only window, the dark nights, the stench of the bucket he had been using for a bathroom, the bland morsels of food he had to practically beg for, the loneliness, the isolation.

Maybe it would be better if he did die.

--

Sara awoke with a start, her heart racing as she grabbed her throat, panting heavily. She didn't know exactly what was wrong, but she found herself terrified beyond belief. The door opened and Nick burst in, his gun in hand, "What's going on?"

"Just a dream." Sara gasped, struggling to breathe deeply, "I don't even remember what it was about."

"Are you okay?" Nick asked, sitting beside her, "Breathe."

"I…I can't." Sara gasped, shutting her eyes and forcing her lungs to function properly. Slowly, she began to calm, her heart rate slowing back down to an acceptable range, finally able to catch her breath, "That was so weird."

"You don't have any idea what the dream was about?" Nick asked, concern evident on his face. Nightmares were definitely not out of the ordinary since Sara began to stay with him after Greg's abduction. The first week or so, they were constant, occurring 2 or 3 times a night. Gradually, they tapered off, now only plaguing her once every few days. They were always the same, though, sheer terror with no memory of why she was so haunted.

Sara pushed her covers off, unable to be in bed any longer. She groaned as her chest began to ache from the slight panic attack she had experienced, and she moved to the window, cracking the blinds to peer down onto the busy street below.

"Go bed to bed, Nick. I'm fine."

"I was getting up anyway."

A quick glance at the clock told Sara he was lying, but she pretended to play along, grateful for the company. Since Greg was taken, she found herself constantly battling feelings of loneliness and depression. Following her friend into the living room, she gratefully accepted the offer of a cup of coffee, sitting with her legs drawn beneath her and staring at the wall ahead.

"Grissom's doing evaluations tonight." Nick said with a groan as he sat beside his brunette friend, "It's everyone's favorite part of the year."

"I'm sure he'll have plenty to say about me." Sara muttered, laying her head against his shoulder. It was no secret that with all of the drama taking place with Greg, over the last few months she had several slip-ups and mistakes in her work. No one blamed her, really, most of her coworkers were surprised to see how well she was holding up, despite the fact that her husband was probably dead.

Perhaps if she believed there was a chance he could be dead, she would have fallen apart by now, but she refused to give into those suggestions. She knew he was holding on, in whatever shape Alyssa had left him in, waiting on them to find him. And she wasn't going to let him down. Most of her non-working hours were spent following up on leads from a private investigator, no matter how ludicrous and far-fetched they seemed, no matter how many leads turned out to be false information or dead ends (which most of them did). She was going to find him, and when she did, she was never going to let him out of her sight again.

It didn't take long before fatigue overcame her again, her head growing heavy against Nick's arm. Shifting into a more comfortable position, Nick allowed his own eyes to close, and the two friends drifted back to sleep. At least in their dreams, everything was alright once more.

TBC