Title: In the Spider's Web
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Table: Un-themed 6, mission_insane
Prompt: 8, Paranoia
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders, unfortunately, just borrowing him for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Greg sighed as he looked around the hotel room he was staying in, wishing that he was anywhere but here. What he really wanted was to be at home, with all of his possessions around him, with his stalker caught and his peace of mind intact.

But that probably wasn't going to happen any time soon, he told himself gloomily, shaking his head at the thought. He'd only been here for two days, and it seemed like a lifetime. He hoped that they would track down his stalker soon, but it couldn't happen quickly enough to suit him.

His paranoia had finally gotten the better of him; he'd let himself be talked into staying in a hotel, even though he worried now that his stalker might take this chance to break into his apartment and help himself to anything he found. He didn't like the idea of someone invading his personal space.

But as Nick and Sara had pointed out, it was better than his stalker getting to him and harming him. He had to admit that idea was far more frightening than the possibility of losing a few material things that could always be replaced if he had to.

His life couldn't be replaced once it had been taken. And he wasn't going to give this sociopath who was stalking him the chance to do that. He wasn't going to let himself become another statistic just because he hadn't wanted to reach out for help when he needed it.

He wasn't that stupid, Greg thought wryly. He had tried to handle this on his own, but there came a time when he knew that he couldn't deal with the danger that he might be in alone. It was better to have talked to his colleagues and Jim Brass about it, and know that they had his back.

Greg leaned back against the pillows on his bed, closing his eyes. He should be glad that he was here, safe and protected. But it was hard to feel that way when he didn't know if his home might be invaded by someone who meant him harm; it was scary to think of that.

His paranoia had risen to new levels since all of this had started. Normally, he wasn't paranoid at all -- well, maybe just a little bit, he amended with a rueful smile. He was always careful, but that was something that he'd had drilled into him since childhood.

Ever since he'd found out that he had a stalker, he'd been even more careful about where he went and what he did, but even that hadn't been enough to keep this person away from him. What he couldn't figure out was why. Why would anyone want to stalk a CSI?

It might be because he had access to a lot of case evidence, and this person wanted to put some of that evidence out of circulation, he mused. But he dismissed that idea almost as soon as he thought of it. If that was what this man wanted, he'd already have demanded it.

No, it was obvious that his stalker wanted something more. And Greg was afraid that the "something more" was him. His stalker had fixated on him in a frightening way, and he didn't like the feeling of being caught in the cross hairs.

He liked the feeling of being in a cage even less, he thought sourly, thumping the pillow and wishing that he was at home. This was a nice hotel, and he was here for his safety. The crime lab was even paying for it, in the interests of keeping him protected.

There was no help for it, though. He had no choice. He had to be here, even though it made him feel trapped and helpless. If he was still at home, there was too much of a chance that his stalker could catch him unawares. And that could lead to tragedy.

He'd let his paranoia grow until it had forced him to seek a hiding place, but maybe that hadn't been the best thing to do. It might have been better to simply stay at home, and let this person bring themselves out into the open. Sooner or later, they would trip up -- and get caught.

Greg's head jerked up as the phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts and into the present moment. It must be either Jim Brass, or somebody from the crime lab, he thought, reaching for it. They were the only people who knew he was here. "Hello?"

"Hello, Greg." The voice wasn't familiar, but a shiver went through him when he heard it, a trickle of cold ice moving slowly down his spine. He knew all too well who this was, and it wasn't anyone he wanted to hear from. The voice made his skin crawl, the hair rising on the back of his neck.

How had the person stalking him gotten this number? And more to the point, how did they know he was here? It was supposed to be a secret; when he was picked up to go to work, and when he was taken home, they used circuitous routes in case they were followed. No one should know.

"Hiding from me isn't an option, Greg," the voice went on before he could speak. "You should know by now that it isn't going to make me happy. I want to be able to see you. To drink you in. To imagine what you look like on the inside, as well as seeing you on the outside."

Greg wanted to slam the phone down, but he couldn't. He felt paralyzed, as though every muscle was caught in a rictus that he couldn't break free of. He was held in place by the voice on the phone; the voice seemed to mesmerize him, forcing him to listen to those words.

"Don't try to run away from me, Greg," the voice continued, the words silky smooth, but with a roughness underneath that made Greg shudder. "You won't escape, no matter how hard you try. It's best not to struggle. Even a fly caught in a spider's web knows that."

With those words, the line went dead, the receiver buzzing in Greg's hand. Slowly, as if he was moving in slow motion, he replaced it, then lay back against the pillows again, closing his eyes and trying to fight back the panic that was only now rising within him.

He was the fly caught in the spider's web; that was more than obvious. And the problem was, he had no idea how to fight his way out of that web, or even if he could. It seemed as though he was being wound around with sticky threads that trapped him, and that there was no escape.

No, Greg told himself firmly, taking a deep breath. That wasn't true. He wasn't some helpless victim who was going to simply lie still and wait to meet his fate. No matter what this person might happen to think, he wasn't going to give in that easily. He would fight to the end.

But how could he fight this person? They seemed to know everything about him -- including the exact place that he was hiding from them. There was no way he could hide; the best thing to do would be for him to go back home, and for Brass to arrange protection there.

His paranoia had driven him to do this, but it had been useless. He'd always thought that it was better to be a little paranoid, just to err on the side of caution -- but maybe he'd gone too far. Maybe he should try to shove his paranoia aside, take a stand, a face this enemy head on.

All he could was wait and see what would happen, keep looking over his shoulder and being careful, and hope that this man might eventually lose interest in him. And he could keep hoping that they would catch him, that he'd slip up and end up caught in his own web.

Greg heaved a sigh, closing his eyes. That thought wasn't even worth pursuing; he had no doubt that this person was a past master at stalking. He probably had other victims; he was sure that he wasn't the first. No, this man seemed too slippery, too knowledgeable about what he was doing.

And it had seemingly been so easy for him to insinuate himself into the outskirts of Greg's life, to stalk him without showing himself. But he was getting closer now; that was obvious from the phone call. He would make a move soon, and Greg knew that move would be swift and unexpected.

He shuddered at the realization that this man knew so much about him; his nemesis kept himself hidden, while being able to freely find information about Greg. How could he not be paranoid while all of this was going on? He wasn't just paranoid at this point. He was terrified.

Slowly, he reached for the phone again, intending to call Brass and let him know that his hiding place had been discovered. He felt more than ever like a helpless fly caught in the spider's web, struggling to free himself but knowing that he would have to succumb in the end.

***