(Nick/Greg) When a killer takes Greg's life, what comes after is all that Nick can handle. Signs of Greg's body show everywhere, but it's the final clue that triggers the emotions held within. Only one girl knows where Greg's vanished to, if they can undo the paralysis her body before she suffocates. What's more important? The life of a ten-year-old? Or the life of "the one"?

"When did the call come in?" Greg asked, putting his feet off the table. He leaned forward, looking at the paper Catherine tossed on the table.

"Two hours ago. A ten-year-old girl called in and said she was left alone. Her father left the house and said he was going to capture a new partner." Catherine looked at Greg. "The ten-year-old said she knows you and thinks you're the target."

Greg sat up. He listed the address of two houses and Catherine responded to the second one. "She's my neighbor across the street. I give her a piece of candy every night when I leave for work."

"Did you leave your house two hours ago?"

"No, four hours ago..." Greg looked up, and then back down. "This sheet, is it from a fax machine?"

"Yes. Do you know-?"

"Catherine! Greg! We've got a dead body poking out of a storm drain." Nick gave them a little smile. "And this ain't no time for pretty games." He vanished.

Greg put his head on the light table. "Catherine, I need to stay behind. I've got a load of work to do. Take Nick up on his offer." Greg gave a weary smile. "I'll be fine, Catherine. Just go and do your job like you've always done."

She sighed and then patted his arm. "Don't forget to be good."

-Two Hours Later-

Greg felt his bare feet pounding against the harsh, wet pavement. His breath was coming in puffs of mist from his lips and the moon was still waxing in the night air. He was fully cloaked in the iridescent glow of the moon's blue reflections.

His thin, white tee was covered in streaks of black and brown. His jeans were torn and bloody from his getaway. His skin prickled with cold and moisture. His nearly matte hair was slick with sweat, as well as his neck. His bare feet were sore and moist from the pavement.

"Come back here, little one! I won't destroy you, I promise!"

"Leave me alone! I don't even like you!" Greg yelled over his shoulder, still running away. He could see Nick's truck just in the distance, it's headlights still dimmed.

"Gregy, come back."

Greg reached the truck and knew that Nick was nearby. He climbed into the bed of the truck and slipped off the other side. He had to get into the truck and-

"Greg, sweety, what're you doin'?" he whispered in Greg's ear, his thick voice echoing his lust for Greg.

Greg knuckled the guy's shoulder back. It tore open his knuckles, causing blood. He flicked it right at the windshield, where Nick would see. He grabbed the handle, knowing full well Nick didn't unlock the passenger side door, so, it clicked. His fingerprints were left there, and so was a piece of his jeans, jammed in the door's connection to the rest of the cab.

"C'mon, let go!"

Greg felt his hands slip and knew it would smudge, so, he pressed his palm to the window before he let go. He heard Catherine and Nick nearby, coming back to their unmaned cars and Greg allowed himself to be dragged away. He saw Nick approach his car and stop.

The blood and hand print would be enough.