"I bet you this anonymous call about a smell is nothing but a dead raccoon," Greg said as he and Morgan stepped out of the Denali and stared at the rotting house before them. "Hell it could even be the house." They had gotten a call to this abandoned shack about something smelling like it had died inside and he and Morgan had been the lucky ones to get it. Though, he didn't mind being with Morgan.
"Wanna make that bet official?" Morgan smirked as they grabbed their kits and headed towards the house.
"Why, so you can rob me of all my money?" Greg chuckled.
"Aw, you chicken?"
"No," the older CSI shot back.
"Then make a bet."
Greg groaned. "Fine; hundred bucks its a dead animal."
"And I bet its a body of an old woman who lived alone and just died peacefully."
Greg raised an eyebrow as they got to the front door, but stuck his gloved hand out. "It's a bet, Brody," he said as they shook on it before going inside, covering their nose as the stench of a decomposing body hit them at full force.
"Looking better for me each second, Sanders," Morgan smiled. "I'll take the bedrooms."
Greg nodded and they both separated, knowing that backup hadn't been there yet, but assumed they would get there soon. The older CSI slowly walked through the dimly lit room, his flashlight in hand as he walked through the living room and into the back where the small kitchen resided. And sure enough, he found the source of the smell. He gagged, covering his nose with his arm before squatting down and inspecting the body. It was a dead, rotting pig which could easily mimic the stench of a dead human body.
"Guess what, Brody, your wallet is gonna feel one hundred dollars lighter in a few minutes!" he chuckled. He waited for a response or even footsteps from the younger CSI to come see what he was talking about...but there was nothing. Frowning, he stood up straight and listened. Silence.
"Morgan?" Breathing heavily, he quietly walked towards where the blonde had disappeared while his hand hovered over his gun. "Morgan, if you're trying to scare me, it's not funny!" Still nothing. "Morgan!" he walked down the hall, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he saw Morgan's kit in the entrance of the bedroom. He shone his light and creeped towards it and the second he looked inside, his stomach dropped.
"Morgan!" The woman was sprawled out on the ground, blonde hair over her face and unconscious. He didn't even care about clearing the room; his heart ruled his mind and he ran inside and fell to his knees, brushing the strands of hair away from her eyes. "M?"
"She's out cold, boy, and you will be too," a gruff voice suddenly spoke, causing Greg to gasp. Before he had time to turn around and grab his gun, something hard hit him over the temple. White hot pain flashed through his vision before unconsciousness engulfed him into the darkness and he knew no more.
"I think you might've hit him too hard, Walker," Doyle said, rubbing the back of his head as he came out from the closet.
Walker, the older brother, just shrugged and bent down and pressed a finger to the kid's neck. He had hit the man with a wooden bat, while Doyle had hit the girl with a lamp, and accidentally hit him harder than he had meant to. But he was angry. This was revenge. Blood caked the side of the CSI's head and he actually prayed he didn't kill him. Then this wouldn't be as much fun as he wanted it to be. He felt for a pulse and sighed. "He's fine; still got a strong pulse. Now come on, lets tie up their wrists and throw them in the van before more cops get here."
His younger brother nodded and tightly tied Greg's and Morgan's wrists together before each of them were slung roughly over Doyle's and Walker's back. They had parked on the side of the house and they silently made their way to the large van; Doyle opened the door and placed Morgan inside while Walker was a bit more rough and carelessly threw Greg next to her.
"Careful, Walker, are you trying to kill him before we can ask questions?"
"Shut up, D. Besides, the girl will probably break before he does. Hurry up, we need to disappear."
Doyle sighed and the shut the back doors before getting into the front seat and quietly driving away. The two CSI's were completely oblivious as to what their future would hold.
Morgan groaned weakly as she came to, her head killing her. She had no idea what happened or why she felt like she was moving even when she was laying down. The last thing she remembered was getting called to a crime scene. Did she ever make it there? Scrunching up her face, she blinked her eyes open and looked around her. When she tried to move her arms, she realized that they were tied tightly in front of her and also that she was in the back of a van that had one window on the door that was dirty and barely gave light. She had been kidnapped! All of a sudden she heard a small groan beside her and remembered something. Someone. Greg! Morgan looked next to her and saw the blonde man laying on his side, his hands tied behind his back. Maybe there were two kidnappers. She gently flipped him over and gasped; his face was deathly pale and, even in the weak light, she could see the blood on the side of his head. She touched it carefully and sighed in relief when it was all dry.
"Greg," she whispered, not wanting to alert their kidnappers. She gently shook his shoulder, but he only groaned. "Greg, please wake up." A few moments later, his eyes squinted open before shutting them again from the pain in his head. God he felt so nauseous and he couldn't think straight; why did his head hurt so bad? He heard a soft voice above him and it made him want to come out of the darkness. But he was so tired. When he heard the voice again- a little more scared sounding- he decided he better not keep the person waiting. He opened his eyes again and looked up to see big blue eyes staring down at him.
"M-Morg'n?" He slurred before clearing his throat.
"Hey," she smiled. "How're you feeling?"
The man groaned as he tried sitting up and eventually getting Morgan's help. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, the movement of the car making him sicker than ever. "Like I got hit by a bat...are you okay?"
Morgan laughed quietly. "Your head is the one that's bleeding and you're asking if I'm okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. My head kinda hurts, but that's it."
"Okay...good." His forehead scrunched up in pain.
Morgan looked at her friend in sympathy. "You do have a pretty bad bump on the side of your head." She inched closer and cupped his face. "Open your eyes, I need to check if you have a concussion."
"P-Probably do...my head feels like it's gonna split open any second." He opened his eyes and Morgan gently lifted his eyelid, looking inside. They hit another bump in the road and Greg moaned, shutting his eyes once again.
"Yeah, you definitely have one."
"Just great," Greg mumbled, taking deep breaths and trying to will the pain away. "Have any idea...where we are?"
"None. All I remember was going into the house that we got called to. Nothing after that. You?"
Greg sluggishly shook his head. "Not really. Same as you, actually...well, I do remember one thing."
"What's that?" Morgan sighed as she scooted next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"The stench was coming from a dead pig...which means," Greg opened his eyes and looked down at the woman. "You own me a bill."
Morgan chuckled. "The second we get out of this I will give you your well earned benjamin."
They laughed but it was cut short when the car came to a screeching halt.
"That's not good," Greg murmured, glancing at Morgan before they both looked at the back door, breathing heavily. Doors slammed, footsteps crunched on the gravel and then seconds later, the back of the vehicle opened and the bright sun shone in, nearly making the two CSI's blind.
"Doyle, get the girl," a voice said and Greg perked up.
"No!" He put himself in front of the younger woman. "Leave her alone!"
"Greg-" Morgan whispered. She was flattered Greg was protecting her, but he was already injured and these two guys were big and looked like the meant business.
"Well, well, well. The tough guy's awake. I was beginning to think I might've put ya' in a coma since I hit you so hard." One of the men laughed heartily. "Now come on. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way."
Greg didn't move, he just glared daggers at the bald man in front of him.
"Nothing? Okay, the hard way it is."
In a swift movement, Walker grabbed Greg by the ankle and pulled him out of the van, letting him fall hard to the ground. Greg yelp when he felt his shoulder pop and he rolled onto his side, the wind being knocked out of him and his head pulsing. He blinked his eyes and looked up when he heard Morgan shouting; through his blurry vision, he saw the man, known as Doyle, grab Morgan by the waist and start to take her away even though she was kicking and screaming.
"M-Morgan!" He suddenly was picked up by the arm and he gasped in pain. But he had to save Morgan. He couldn't let her get hurt. He elbowed his attacker in the nose and tried to make a run for it, but he was too dizzy and Walker punched him to the ground.
"You little runt!" He began kicking Greg in the ribs with his steel-toed boot. "You *kick* just made *kick* a huge *kick* mistake *kick* boy!"
"No! Stop! Please, stop!" Morgan cried as she struggled in Doyle's grip and watched in horror as the other man kicked Greg to death. "Stop, you're killing him!"
Greg couldn't get a breath in and he felt his ribs cracking and his lungs tightening. He was going to die. This is how he was going out and then Morgan would be all alone with these bastards.
"P-Ple..." he wheezed.
It finally stopped and he began coughing violently, tasting something metallic on his tongue. Blood...shit.
"You're right. I don't wanna kill you. Not yet anyways. I've got something better in store for the two of you anyways," Walker sneered. "Get up."
But Greg remained coughing, trying to get his breath back, yet it seemed nearly impossible.
"I said get up, boy!"
Greg tried, but he was too weak. Walker grew impatient and grabbed Greg by the collar, dragging him the rest of the way. Greg closed his eyes, choking from his shirt pressing against his throat. He vaguely heard Morgan crying, calling his name and he wanted to return the shouts, but he was just too weak. He was always weak. Morgan didn't deserve a guy like him. He must've blacked out, because the next thing he knew he was in a small, cement, musty room and his ankle was being shackled to the wall.
"We'll be back," he heard Walker's voice said. "Don't go anywhere." The two guys began laughing at their joke before he heard a heavy door slam shut and lock.
"Greg? Greg can hear me? Please say something."
He felt warm hands on his cold face, turning his head, but he didn't want to open his eyes.
Morgan's heart hurt when she saw Greg getting kicked and knowing well enough he wouldn't be able to breathe. When Walker had finished, she and Greg had been taken into a disgusting basement and chained to the walls, thankfully not to far from each other. When the two guys left, she crawled over to the barely conscious man. "Greg, please." she cried. He was still wheezing pretty badly and it made Morgan wonder how badly injured he was.
Finally, the man's brown- glassy- slid open and looked at her. "Mor...Morgan?"
"Yeah...right here, Greg," she grinned, putting Greg's head in her lap and stroking his hair, trying to calm him down. "Take deep breaths, okay. Who knows how badly that asshole really hurt you."
Greg coughed harshly and Morgan let a tear slip, hating the sound. "It's gonna be okay, Greg. Just breathe. I'll protect you."
"I should...be telling you...that," Greg said with a smile, losing his energy fast.
"Why?" Morgan chuckled. "Because you're they guy and I'm the girl?"
The corner of Greg's mouth flicked upwards, his eyes closing.
"I'm fine, Greg. You're the one who's hurt. Besides...we both have to take a turn protecting each other. But you know...you were stupid for intimidating that guy. You could've...you could've gotten yourself killed. I don't know what I would've done." Just the thought made her shake, her voice choking.
"Hey...d-don't...don't cry," Greg whispered. He wished he could hold her hand. To let her know they would be okay. But he needed to sleep...just for a few minutes. "I'll be okay. We'll both be fine. And I'll always sacrifice myself for you, M." His voice was getting softer as he drifted off, resting his head in the crook of Morgan's arm.
"Why? Why do you have to do that?" Morgan said angrily.
"Gotta...p-protect you...I l-love..." but his head became limp and Morgan freaked out.
"Greg? Greg! Come on, please wake up." But he was out. The good thing is that he was still breathing. She sighed, wiping her already sweaty face with the back of her hand before her hands went back to Greg's face, stroking it gently. The binds wouldn't be able to stop her from comforting the man. "We're gonna be okay, Greg." Please let us be okay.
She just prayed...God, she prayed that Russell would find them before it was too late.