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fandomgirlz01 · 4 months

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This Can’t Be The End Pt. 3

Nick Stokes X Reader

Imagine on my fandom instagram?: No

Prompt?: No

Request?: No

Requested prompt?: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 6,175

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here.

Post Date: December 30th 2023

Post Time: 12:27 AM

Summary: Based off of S5 Es24 & 25 When Nick gets kidnapped, the reader is forced to fear the worst for her husband as she and the team work the case with hopes of bringing him home safe.

Third Person Pov:

The computer shows Nick and the countdown that is at 00:00:01. It then clicks off the video and 4672 CARNEY LANE — BOULDER HWY are the words that slide across the screen. Then the words BE THERE IN 20 MINUTES slide onto the screen next before OR DON’T BOTHER COMING slide across the screen too.

Grissom finds himself standing in front of a warehouse that doesn’t look like it’s been used for some time with the bag of money in his hand. He looks around for any sight of anything, but finds nothing out of the ordinary so he takes a step toward the building. He walks up to the building keeping an eye out for anything.

He walks up to the door, grabs the handle and slides the door open. It makes a loud clunking sound as he does, but he pays it no mind. Once it’s open he steps in and takes his glasses off as he looks around the inside.

He sees an SUV parked to his right, but nothing else really. He sets the bag down and reaches around himself to pull his flashlight out of his back pocket. He shines the flashlight out and continues to look around the warehouse.

“Las Vegas crime lab!” He calls out into the void in front of him.

“Through the door!” Another man’s voice shouts out and Gil bends down slowly to pick the money bag back up.

He then starts to walk, shining his light in front of him. As he walks he notices a dead dog laying on the floor with flies buzzing around. He sees other things a dog would need, a bed, food and water bowls.

He sees a box of random things and what seems to be a bed in the corner. He keeps walking and soon makes his way to the door the voice had told him to go through. He walks up a few steps before coming face to face with an older looking man who sits behind a computer watching the feed of Nick.

“Pretty quiet outside,” the man comments as Gil comes to a stop in front of him.

“Almost sounds like you came alone,” the guy continues to taunt.

“I’ve got your money,” Gil tells him and the guy stands.

“Put it down,” the guy commands as he leans on his arms against the table.

Grissom slowly lowers the bag and it makes a light thud as it hits the ground. He stands back up to full straight position before the guy comes out from behind the desk and up to the few steps to the podium he’s on.

“Slide it over,” he commands and Grissom uses his foot to kick it over closer to the guy.

It’s only when the bag stops, maybe about fifteen to twenty feet from him that the man walks down the steps and over to the bag. He uses a flashlight to look down on it and he looks back up at Gil.

“You’re telling me there’s a million dollars in here?” The guy asks and Gil gives a very decisive “yes,” to his question.

“Along with some cute little booby traps? Which is it? A tracker, a dye pack? A…” he asks, trying to figure out if they played any tricks on him.

“Normally, you’d be 100% right, but this time you’re 100% wrong. We want Nick back. No tricks,” Grissom promises him and it goes silent for a moment.

The guy takes a moment before bending down to the bag. He moves it so it’s facing him and unzips it. He digs though for a moment before grabbing a wad of the cash and holding it up to his light. He inspects it thoroughly before starting to chuckle.

“This looks real,” he comments as he holds it up.

“It is real,” Gil proclaims before pausing.

“Where is Nick?” He asks and the guy stands back up dropping the money back into the bag as he does.

“You know, I was under the impression that it was against departmental policy to negotiate with terrorists,” the guy comments, using his free hand to try and motion out his meaning.

“Are you a terrorist?” Gil asks him in a calm tone.

“Depends,” the guy replies in a nonchalant tone before shining the light at Grissom’s face.

“Are you terrified?” The guys asks in a playful tone and Grissom takes a deep breath.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk to you. Where is my guy?” Gil asks in a slightly irritated voice.

“Oh, so… he is your guy, huh?” The man asks in a fake astonished tone.

“Yes, he is. Where is he buried?” Gil asks in a demanding tone.

“Are you two close?” The man asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“That’s none of your business,” Gil tells him in a clipped tone.

“What does Nick Stokes mean to you? How do you feel when you see him in that coffin? Does your soul die every time you push that button? How do you feel knowing that there’s nothing you can do to get him out of that hell? Helpless…useless… impotent? How does it feel having to tell his darling of a wife he’s not coming home?” The guy asks again dodging the question with his own million to one questions and Grissom doesn’t respond.

“Good. Welcome to my world,” the man tells him before revealing that he has a bomb strapped to his waist.

“Uh, if I were you, I’d back up a little,” he tells Grissom in a condescending tone, but yet there’s also humor laced in with it.

Grissom takes one, two, no three little steps back and before he has a chance to do anything else the guy presses the button that he’s holding. The whole place gets wrecked with the magnificent boom, windows shatter and wood shards go flying every which way. Once the bomb is done dust over takes the air and starts to rain down along with blood painting the walls.

Grissom wakes and starts to huff for breath as he struggles to sit up. His ears ring and he can feel blood on his face as he looks over the desolate scene in front of him.

Reader’s Pov:

I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder lightly and with a small groan, I open my eyes. The bright light burns my eyes, making me shy away before looking back up to see Warrick standing in front of me. He gives me a small smile as I sit up, the blanket falling from my arm to my lap.

“What’s up, B?” I ask him and he smiles lightly.

“Griss just left to take the ransom money. If we’re lucky, Nicky boy should be home by tonight,” he tells me as his grin slowly grows more and more.

“You mean I’ll get him back?” I inquire softly and Warrick nods.

“Warrick, you better not be playing with me…” I warn him and he shakes his head, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I promise you mamas that I am not messing with you,” he tells me and I take a moment to let the words sink in.

“Oh, B… you were right, he’s coming home,” I whisper out as tears come to my eyes.

“It’s all just a waiting game now, mama. Once Grissom calls in, we can go get our boy,” he informs me and I can’t help but jump forward and hug him.

“Wait…” I pause before pulling back from the hug.

“How did Gil get the ransom money? I thought the department wasn’t going to pay it out. Did Nicky’s parents put it out?” I question and Warrick shakes his head.

“We’re not really supposed to talk about it… because Grissom insists on it staying anonymous, but you have Catherine to thank… she went to her father and asked for the money…” Warrick explains to me and I freeze as gratitude overflows me.

“Where is she?” I ask him after a moment of silence and he shakes his head.

“She’s in her office,” he informs me and I nod as I get up.

I quickly rush out of the break room and down the many halls I know will take me to her office. I slow down once I see the office and lightly knock on the door. She looks up and smiles when she sees it’s me.

She takes her glasses off and gives a small nod, mouthing a small ‘come in,’ before I push the glass door open. I walk in, closing the door behind me and Catherine smiles softly at me as I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Her walkie-talkie chats quietly from beside her with a sound of static every time someone isn’t talking.

“What do you need, y/n?” she asks me as she folds her hands on her desk.

“Rick… he, uhh… told me what you did. I… I don’t know how to thank you,” I answer her in a choked tone and she smiles softly at me again.

“No need to thank me, y/n. Both you and Nicky are family. I hated seeing you and him in pain,” she explains softly before reaching her hand out to me.

“No. You deserve a thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t be getting my husband back. I… I wouldn’t have made it if—” I start but she squeezes my hand as she cuts me off.

“Don’t even start to wonder. That road can be a dangerous one, y/n. Just think of what you’ll do with all your time off,” she tells me and I give her a confused look.

“Time off?” I ask in confusion and she nods as she pulls her hand back.

“Nick gets time off for mental evaluation after all of this. I assume Griss will make you do the same thing,” she informs and I purse my lips as I nod.

“Honestly, we need the time off anyway. We were hoping to put in for some after these cases finished up,” I tell her and she grins, making me smile too.

“And you guys deserve it. You’ve done a lot of work with no breaks lately,” she muses and it goes quiet with the radio static being the only noise.

“Would you like to—” Catherine starts, but gets cut off with a voice coming over the radio.

“Dispatch, this is Gill Grissom of the crime scene lab. I request assistance at 4672 Carney Lane - - Boulder HWY. There’s been an explosion that needs analysis as soon as possible,” comes Grissom’s voice over the radio and I quickly suck in a breath as Catherine picks it up.

“Copy that, we’re sending units to your location right now,” Dispatch replies and Catherine looks up at me.

“You stay here. Someone will update you if we find anything at all, I promise,” she tells me as she stands up and I nod quickly.

After Catherine and the others leave, I’m left alone so I decide to take a shower and change my clothes. I walk to the locker room and open my locker.

Immediately I regret it when I see a picture of me and Nick on the inside of the door:

I smile softly at the old picture as I look at Nick and me from back when we were still in our second year of being CSI’s. With a soft smile, I find myself mentally thanking Nick’s sister Janet for taking the picture. I reach up and touch the picture as I sniffle.

I sigh and grab my change of clothes and a small toiletries bag before closing the locker. I go over to the shower and grab a towel from the cabinet before setting all my stuff on the counter. I then get into the shower and monotonously go about it.

I stay in the shower until the water runs cold and sigh as I reluctantly turn it off. I make work of getting out and quickly drying off before getting dressed. After I’m dressed, I drop my towel in the hamper and walk back to my locker.

I open it and set my toiletries bag in first before folding my clothes up. I put my clothes into the locker and catch sight of another one of the pictures I have hanging up:

I smile as the memory from college plays in my head and all I can hear is Nick’s laugh. That day was just one of our many lazy days that turned into him forgetting that he had a project to finish for his class. He ended up working on it while I sat reading my book, until I got bored and reached over for my camera that was on his bedside table.

~Flash back~

“Hey, Nicky,” I sing-song to him.

“Hmm?” he hums out, not even looking at me and I roll my eyes.

“Look over here, babe,” I tell him and he takes a moment to lean back in his chair, looking over one last detail before looking at me.

He smiles when he sees me and I grin as I take the picture. He laughs while shaking his head, making me grin even more.

“You and taking pictures of me. Did it at least turn out good?” he asks through his own grin and I pull the camera back to look at the screen.

“Hmm. Yes, it did. That one’s being printed,” I comment, only to giggle when he shakes his head before going back to his work.

~End of Flashback~

“Come home to me, Nicky,” I whisper, wiping at the tear that falls as another picture makes me giggle softly:

I remember that day so well. Nick was working on a separate case alongside Greg and I just so happened to walk by and see them both in really deep thought. Me being me, I decided to take a picture of them and send it to Nick with the text “someone looks a little grumpy :(”. He had immediately looked up to see me after reading the text and smiled at me, making me smile back softly before continuing on my way.

I sigh as I look over all the many pictures I have of us from over the years. Some Janet had taken, some taken by Nick’s brother Shane, as well as his brother Mason, sister Piper, and brother Braxton, all of whom saw me as a sibling the moment me and Nick started hanging around each other. There’s some we took together and some of us just being goofy together:

I let all the memories slowly play out in my head before shaking myself out of my thoughts.

“He’s coming home. He’ll be ok…” I keep repeating to myself in my head. I bite my lip and look over all the pictures one last time before closing my locker.

I wipe away tears that I didn’t even notice had fallen and start to walk to the break room. Once in the break room, I decide I should try to eat something, so I start looking for something that seems appetizing. I find a bowl of leftover spaghetti in the fridge with the name ‘Stokes’ on it in big bold letters. I shake my head at the note I find under it:

Sweets, I know you’ll find this. You better eat it, I know you haven’t had anything at all today. Remember I love you and EAT the damn food please.

~Nicky ^>^

“Even when he’s not here, he’s still taking care of me,” I comment out loud to myself, shaking my head as I give a soft chortle.

I take the foil off the top of the glass bowl and open the microwave. I then set the bowl in carefully and close it before setting it to three minutes.

As it warms it up, I walk back over to the fridge to get my soda from earlier this morning out before walking back over. I then grab a plastic fork from a container on the counter just as the microwave comes to a stop and beeps. I take the food out and walk over to the round table in the center of the room.

I sit down and start to stab at my food, but all of a sudden it doesn’t seem appetizing anymore. I twirl some on the fork and take one bite in hopes it’ll at least taste appetizing, but it doesn’t. I sit there trying to work up to wanting it, but it just keeps looking gross.

I sigh and push the bowl away from me before putting my hands over my eyes. I sit there for a few minutes with my hands over my eyes when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up and see Warrick standing there with a solemn look on his face.

“What happened?” I ask him and he sighs, moving to sit down next to me.

“The bastard blew himself up. Talk about cowardice to end it all,” he chortles in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Griss was lucky and didn’t get hit by the blast. He has minor hearing loss, but unfortunately no Nick,” he continues to explain and I suck in a breath.

“You process the scene yet?” I inquire and he pursues his lips.

“Yeah. Me and Greg worked on the car. GPS wasn’t a lot of help at all. All we got was general information of around where he was,” he informs me and I bite my lip in hopes of holding my emotions back.

“What— what about a body? Did the guy have anything on him?” I question and he pauses a moment as if debating whether to tell me.

“There wasn’t much of a body. He was literally in pieces… and no, we didn’t find anything on him,” he answers me and my face changes to one of anger.

“Did you guys find anything useful at all?! Or did you just quit?!” I angrily seethe out, my hormones completely out of whack and Warrick looks shocked for a moment.

“Mamas, I know you're angry. You have every right to be, but you gotta stay calm or I’m taking you home,” he informs me and I nod as my anger washes away.

“You're right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what just came over me,” I apologize as I put my head in my hands again and sniffle.

“It’s okay, mamas. You're entering the anger stage and not to mention you're probably hungry. I get it. It’s hard when all you want is him here with you,” he sympathizes with me as he pulls my chair to his and hugs me.

“Did you get anything at all, though?” I ask him and he nods.

“Yeah. Sara got a thumb, so we got a thumb print. She just went to run the print to see what we get,” he explains to me and I sigh.

“I just want him home, Rick,” I tell him and he pulls away from our hug to look me in the eyes.

“And he will be, mama. He will be, but for now you gotta take care of yourself, you hear me? He wouldn’t like knowing that you didn’t,” he says and I sigh, shaking my head.

“I hear you. I do, I just…” I trail off and he nods.

“I get it mama, I do. Have you eaten?” he questions and I motion to the bowl in front of us.

“I tried, took one bite and just wanted to throw up. So, no, I haven’t eaten,” I answer and he sighs.

“Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do. Grab the bowl and come with me,” he commands and I give him a shocked look, knowing what he’s doing.

“But B, there’s no food in the lab,” I reiterate the rules of the lab and he shrugs.

“Will you eat if you can see he’s doing ok?” he questions and I take a moment to think about it.

“I mean, maybe…” I tell him and he nods again as he gets up.

“I’m sure Griss would allow it this one time,” he explains as he pushes his chair in and I smile softly at him.

“Ok. Then let’s go,” I agree as I get up and grab the bowl.

“That’a girl. Let me just get myself a coffee, then we can go,” he tells me and I nod as he walks over and grabs himself a cup.

He quickly pours the coffee and adds a little bit of sugar before turning back to me. “Let’s go,” he says as he walks over to me and I nod.

Together we walk through the hallways and some of the labs before coming up to Archie’s computer lab. We see him sitting at the computer, just watching the feed as we walk up next to him.

“How’s he doing?” Warrick asks as he walks up to the chair next to Archie, who looks over at him.

“Hard to say… about the same, I guess,” he replies to Warrick before looking at me.

“Hi, y/n,” Archie greets me with a small sympathetic smile and I give a small one back.

“Hi, Arch. Is it ok if I eat my food in here? I just needed to see him,” I question him and he nods.

“Definitely. Just don’t make it a habit,” he jokes and I smile at him again.

“I promise I won’t,” I playfully joke back and he nods.

“Here. You can have my chair. I’m gonna go get some coffee,” he informs us as he gets up and I send him a thankful smile.

“Yeah,” Warrick agrees as he sets his coffee down on the table as I sit down next to him and Archie leaves.

Once Archie is gone, I finally turn to the monitor and sigh when I see Nick. He just lays there so still, but I can tell he’s still breathing as his chest rises and falls. Warrick reaches up and rubs at his tired eye before holding his balled up fist next to his mouth and looking over at me.

“Eat,” he tells me as he taps my leg under the bench, effortlessly pulling me out of my fixed stare on Nick.

I nod and lift the bowl up before taking a bite. I chew slowly and the food doesn’t taste as bad as before, but it’s still hard to get myself to eat. Nick then turns to the air vent that’s to his left and breathes before the video slowly closes out.

The ‘YOU CAN ONLY WATCH’ pops up again and Warrick quickly moves to click the link again. The video comes back on and Nick mouths something, but it’s hard to make out. I continue to take many slow bites of the food and soon it’s gone.

I set the bowl on the table and Warrick looks over at me, then the bowl. “Good job, mamas,” he praises me and I nod my thanks. He pulls me over and wraps an arm around my shoulder and I lean into it as we continue to just watch Nick in silence.

Again all too soon, though, the video goes off again and Warrick moves to click the link again. Nick mouths more words that are hard to make out and my eyes start to well up a bit. We continue to watch and it’s only a little later that we watch him take out some gum from his pocket. Warrick and I look at each other, intrigued before looking back at Nick as he chews the gum.

He then takes the gun out of his mouth and shoves it in his ears. Warrick and I both sit up a little as we watch in wonder of what he’s doing.

“What are you doing, Nicky?” Warrick voices the question we’re both thinking as Nick lays his head back for a moment.

He reaches down to his side and I let out a gasp as his service weapon pops up. He holds onto the barrel for a moment and then takes it off.

“What are you doing, Nicky?” Warrick voices again as we both fully get out of our chairs.

He turns the barrel to his chin like he’s going to shoot himself and all the air leaves my chest as I quickly turn around. I regret turning around that fast as everything spins and the sick feeling from earlier returns. I close my eyes as I try to regain my equilibrium while I wait for Warrick to react in any way.

“Don’t do it, Nicky!” Warrick exclaims as he continues to watch when I can’t.

“Ahhh!” Warrick shouts and I jump, a sob escaping my mouth.

“You son of a bitch!” Warrick screams out and another sob leaves my throat as I bring my hand up to cover my mouth.

The shock takes over and I slowly start to sink to the ground as all sounds become muffled. It’s only a second after my knees hit the ground that I hear Warrick again.

“Shit. Y/n. He’s ok. Look, mama. Look. He just shot the light,” Warrick informs me as he comes over to me and lifts me up so I’m standing.

“Look at the monitor, mama. Look,” he prompts me and I shake my head.

“Come on. Look. He’s still alive…” he tells me and finally I listen.

I look at the screen to see my husband still breathing and alive, just now he has a glow stick as his light. I let out another sob and turn to Warrick, throwing myself into his arms. He sighs and wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back as I continue to cry.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that. I wasn’t expecting it and I should have. I am so, so sorry mamas,” he apologizes as he leaves a kiss on the side of my forehead.

“I…it’s ok, B. You… you couldn’t have known,” I tell him though my hiccups as he holds my head to his shoulder and sighs.

Warrick’s Pov:

After Nick shot out the light, I held a sobbing y/n in my arms for a few minutes. She cried until she made herself tired and fell asleep on my arm. I carefully carried her back to the break room and set her on the couch.

I make sure her head is on the pillow and then cover her with the blanket she’s been using. She lets out a puff of air and I smile sadly at the girl who’s like my baby sister. I make sure she stays asleep and I’m glad when she does, knowing she desperately needs it.

I sigh as I run my hands over my face. I decide to leave, knowing if she wakes and needs me she’ll come find me. I walk to the locker room and open my locker, but stop before I get anything out of it.

I rub my forehead as my emotions start to hit. It’s then that I remember that only just this morning I had been laughing and talking with Nick in this very spot. I slam my locker closed and sit back on the bench he’d sat on before taking a deep breath.

The tears started to flow and I let them for a while, just taking time for myself. After a few minutes, Catherine walks in and looks at me.

“Griss wants you, me, and Greg back at the scene. He wants us to look for anything else we can find,” she informs me and I rub my face.

“Ok. Let me just get my gear and jumpsuit. I’ll meet you guys there?” I ask and she nods before turning around and leaving.

I take a moment of silence just to try to process everything before sighing and pushing myself up off the bench. I quickly grab all my gear and head out to my car to drive back to the scene.

When I arrive, Catherine walks over to my car and I turn it off before getting out. I walk to the back to get my kit out and she walks with me.

“Greg and I decided that we should split up. Divide and conquer,” she explains and I nod as I pull my kit out and close the trunk.

“Ok. Who’s doing what?” I ask her and she points at Greg as we walk in.

“Greg’s on sifting, I’m taking the car, so that leaves you with mapping,” she answers me and I nod as I set my kit down.

“Well, let’s get to it, then,” I comment and she nods before going over to the car.

I pull out my clipboard and start to map the place as Catherine takes photographs of the car. Greg sifts through all the stuff that we put into the sifting bucket and we all quietly work on our individual projects for a bit.

After a little while of mapping, it seems hopeless and I roll my eyes as I rip the pieces of paper off of my pad. I throw it down to the floor and try to start over.

“Hey. I found a trigger wire,” Greg announces as he holds it up.

“Maybe once we reassemble all the components, we’ll be able to tell where the bomb came from. Maybe…” Greg starts to explain in hope, but I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe if we count up all the damn ‘maybes’, maybe Nick will be alive!” I cut him off, shouting in anger as I kick a container in front of my foot.

“You know what I’m saying?!” I shout as the container lands next to Greg, spilling onto the ground.

“Was that necessary?!” Greg shouts back as he stands up.

“Never mind my clothes. Look at the evidence!” Greg shouts as he motions to his clothes before throwing his clipboard aside as he looks over the evidence.

“Damn it!” I shout as I throw my clipboard down and turn away from him.

I walk off to the side, my anger seething as I try to push it down. I stop just in front of the door as Catherine calls out to me.

“Hey. Warrick. Hey,” she says, walking up to me as I turn around to look at her.

“Hey. How you holding up?” she asks as she rubs my arm ever so slightly.

“I’m not,” I tell her as I take my glove off and cross my arms, only to uncross them.

“I know,” she comments as she reaches up and moves her mask a bit.

“I just can’t help but think that could have been me in that box. You know?” I voice my thoughts to her and suck in a breath of air.

“We flipped a coin for that trash run,” I add on and tears brim my eyes.

“Hey. Nick is not inside a box because of the flip of a coin,” Catherine cuts in before I can continue.

“If that was me, I would’ve… mmm…” I cut her off, my voice rising as I point to my head like I'd shoot myself before rubbing my finger at my forehead.

“Hey. You know what? I know you. I don’t believe that,” she says with her voice rising as she points at my chest and I back away a bit.

“Okay?!” she asks and I look at the ground.

“No. You’re wrong. I wouldn’t have lasted this far,” I tell her and she shakes her head, scoffing lightly in disbelief.

“You’ve taken care of y/n better than anyone else. I DON’T believe that,” she reiterates herself and I shake my head.

“I had to hold y/n as she cried herself to sleep today. That’s something I never wanted to ever have to do…” I tell her and she sighs as I pause for a moment.

“Catherine, if something happens to Nick… If we don’t bring him back in one piece… she’ll be done for. I don’t think y/n can handle it. I promised her I’d get him home,” I inform her and her eyes widen.

“You prom-” she starts, but stops when Greg calls out for us.

“Hey, guys, come here,” Greg shouts and Catherine turns around.

“I found something,” he adds on as we both start walking over to him.

“Look at this,” he tells us once we’re next to him.

He lifts a bottle of liquid and pours it on the dirt. He pours it in a line with it turning the sand a little darker and sets the bottle back down to the side.

“There’s something underneath there,” he comments as he looks up at us.

Catherine is the first to bend down and help him. They start pushing the sand away with their hands and I use my foot. Once we see something else poke through, I bend down with them and together we all use our hands to push the dirt away.

“Oh, it’s got an edge. Right here,” I tell them as I reach for it.

“All right,” I say as we each move around, still moving sand.

“Another one over here,” Greg calls out as we continue to all feel around in the sand.

“Greg, get some crowbars,” Catherine shouts out and Greg immediately jumps up.

He runs off only to come back a few seconds later. He tosses me a crowbar and hands one to Catherine.

“You think Nick could be under here?” Greg questions as we each grab onto our crowbars and start trying to pry it open.

“I don’t know, man. It would have to be at least six feet long,” I answer him as we continue to pry at it.

Finally it starts to open and together we all push the board away to find more dirt. I sink my crowbar into the dirt and start to dig out as much dirt as I can.

“Yeah, but if he buried him lengthwise— and who’s to say he didn’t— he could be,” Catherine explains the way that she thinks he could possibly be below us.

She puts her mask back on before she and Greg help me dig. I quickly race over and grab our shovels. I hand them both one and together we all dig with the shovels as fast as we can.

About halfway through, Catherine and Greg take a break as others come in to take over for them. I keep going in hopes of finding him so I can get him home to his wife. We all keep digging and digging until finally I hit something.

“I hit something,” I announce as I hit it a couple more times with the shovel to make sure.

I throw my shovel to the side and bend down to it. I quickly make work of moving the last little bit of sand aside. I finally get down to it and we can see what’s underneath it all now.

“It’s plexiglass,” Catherine observes as I keep moving sand away.

“Nick!” I yell out in hopes of getting a response.

“Nick?” Catherine yells out after me as we keep going with our hands.

“Nick, hold on there, buddy!” I shout as I keep going.

“Nick?!” Catherine shouts as we finally can see into the box. Only instead of finding Nick, we find a Dalmatian inside the box.

“What?” Catherine says in confusion as we look down at it.

“It’s a dog,” she shouts out and sighs as she starts to rub her forehead. “It’s a dog,” she reiterates herself as she starts to cry.

I huff in anger as I shake my head before standing up and walking off. I shout out as I kick another container in frustration.

“Who’s gonna tell y/n?” Greg asks and I sigh, letting my head hang.

“I will,” I say and Catherine shakes her head.

“No. I’ll tell Griss and he’ll tell her. I still need you to look over this once we get it out of the ground,” Catherine explains and I sigh, looking at her.

“But it’s not out of the ground yet. Please let me go tell her. She’ll need me. I’ll look it over when you guys get it to the lab, but I’m the only one keeping her going. This will deviate her, I need to be there,” I beg Catherine, who sighs before nodding in agreement.

“Yeah. Ok. Go. I’ll let you know when it’s at the lab,” she agrees and I nod, jumping up and getting my stuff.

“Thanks, Catherine!” I yell out to her and she nods, waving me off.

I quickly head to my car and put my kit in before getting in myself. I sit back in my seat with a sigh as I mentally prepare to go tell y/n. With one last deep breath, I start my car up and head back to the lab.

To Be Continued…

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CSI Season 2 Episode 19 --Stalker

CSI Season 2 Episode 19

--Stalker

When we went into work, Nick and I stopped by Gil’s office. We had a discussion last night at his place about doing the right thing – telling the department that we were in a relationship. In my previous place of employment, they would have reprimanded me for seducing a coworker. Then I would have been demoted. Nick reassured me that this wasn’t the case here – that numerous coworker’s had relationships within the department.

Nick had rubbed my back as I tried to calm my breathing. I was worked up just by asking him what if they split us up. Moved us to a different shift, because then we wouldn’t be able to see each other. Nick shook his head, his crooked smile enveloping his face.

“That won’t happen, darlin’,” Nick reassured me, his Texas drawl soothing my frayed nerves at the aspect of telling Grissom that I was involved with one of his best CSI’s. I knew that Nick valued the opinion of Grissom as well, so that was also nerve-wracking.

“But how do you know?” I stressed, looking at him as I bit my lip. Nick laughed, not unkindly, but used his thumb to release my lip from the abuse of my teeth.

“Do you know how many of the lab has been together?” When I shook my head, Nick elaborated on the number of relationships he knew of, as well as how they were treated once it came out.

When we knocked on Gil’s door, he was bent over looking at something through a magnifying glass. He looked intrigued to see us at his door, both requesting an audience at the same time. Gil motioned to the chairs at his desk, wordlessly, and waited to see what we were going to say.

“We’ve been dating,” I blurted out, unable to keep it a secret any longer. Nick gave an awkward chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Is that all?” Grissom asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought someone was confessing to a crime. Needing help with hiding a dead body or something.”

“I didn’t want to be in any type of department violation,” I told Gil who nodded, as Nick was chuckling.

“See, I told you!” Nick pointed out.

“I see no issue with two of my CSI’s dating,” Gil remarked, already losing interest in this conversation and looking down at the bug he was studying. “I will make a note of it for your documents with the Crime Lab.”

“That’s it?” I asked, a little shocked at the handling of a relationship. Nick had validated this point and to see it occurring was honestly a little shocking.

“Yup,” Gil nodded, opening our files and putting something in the documents. “The only issue would be if you two were supervisor and subordinate. Then you wouldn’t be able to do the other’s evaluations.”

“Wow,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Who knew?”

“I tried to tell you!” Nick smiled at me, as he shook his head, good-naturedly. “You’ve been panicking since our fourth date.”

“Well,” I tried to explain, but finally gave up. Gil gave us both a rare smile.

“Get ready, we have a 419 – it’s going to require all of us to handle the evidence,” Gil said. We both nodded and went to the locker room to get ready.

Once we were finished putting our holsters on, getting the guns loaded, and grabbing our credentials, we both exited the locker room and went to the breakroom where the others were waiting for the assignment of the night. I looked at our coworkers before taking a deep breath.

“Before Ecklie or someone says something – Nick and I are dating,” I told them. They all grinned, Warrick slapping Nick on the back, congratulating him. I rolled my eyes as Gil came into the room.

“We’ve got a 419,” Grissom said. We all got out of our seats and grabbed our gear, along with jackets. Nick had to wear a leather jacket as his clothing wasn’t at the drycleaners the other day. I had laughed at them handing someone else his clothing and told him that was the reason I do my own laundry. I doubled with Nick while Catherine and Gil were in the lead, getting to the scene first. Warrick and Sara were still back at the lab.

“It’s going to be a long night,” I told my boyfriend who nodded his head as we drove to the crime scene. He had grabbed my hand with his, entwined on the console as we listened to music on the way to scene. Once we were on the scene, Catherine and Gil went up to get the preliminary photos. Nick wanted to talk with the detectives on scene.

I grabbed my kit from the trunk and went up to the apartment building. I walked in as Grissom was coming out of the bathroom. I was looking around the apartment and my eyebrows were furrowed.

“So, has anyone seen this dog?” Gil asked, looking around the apartment and listening for any sound of the dog.

“Dog bed, dog bowl, dog food ... no dog,” Catherine remarked as they noticed the dog paraphernalia all over the house.

“Someone killed the dog?” I gasped, staring at the senior members of the team with horror. They both shrugged, not confirming or denying it. “People I get, but a dog?”

“Neighbor lady called 911 because she heard the dog yelping,” Gil stated. I sucked in a breath.

“Are we sure it’s not hiding somewhere? Or that the cops didn’t let the poor animal out when they kicked in the door?” I asked, looking around the apartment. “Here, boy!” I whistled, trying to find the dog.

“Triple locks on all the doors. Every shade drawn. State-of-the-art alarm system,” Catherine looked at the alarm panel on her wall. “As far as we know her place was perfectly hermetically sealed until the cops batter-rammed their way in.”

“Prisoner in her own home?” Gil asked, standing there looking at the aforementioned safety features.

“Maybe she was agoraphobic?” I suggested, standing in her living room.

“So, how did he get in?” Catherine raised an eyebrow as she looked at the locks.

“A better question -- how'd he get out?” Gil questioned.

“Maybe he’s with the dog?” I sneered, looking under the furniture, trying to see if the dog was hiding underneath the couch. The dog bed was small – indicating that this wasn’t a golden retriever. “The dog bed looks sort of small. This dog couldn’t be more than 25-30 pounds. And there is no fur all over the home. I think it’s a hypoallergenic breed. Or this woman keeps vacuuming a hundred times a day.”

Gil walked into the living room behind me. He was still searching for a way that the assailant could have gotten in or out of the home. Gil pushed the gauzy curtains out of the way to reveal that the windows were covered in silver.

“Aluminum foil,” Gil said, shining a light on the silver material covering the windows.

“Keeps the sunlight out,” Catherine murmured also looking at the foil lined windows.

“God knows one needs to in Vegas,” I groused, still checking under the furniture, flashing my light around. “The dog couldn’t have just disappeared!”

“Keeps the eyeballs out, too,” Grissom stated as Catherine announced she was going to process the bedroom. She left the room while I was still poking under the furniture and trying to entice a dog. The door opened and Nick came in. He raised an eyebrow at my wandering around the living room, randomly whistling.

“Did you finally lose your marbles?” Nick drawled. I huffed at my boyfriend.

“I wish!” I called out. “The victims dog totally vanished. No one can seem to account for the dog that prompted the 911 call!”

“You’ll find him, darlin’,” Nick soothed, knowing my soft spot for animals, walking down the hallway. He stopped after a moment, looking at the scene in the bathroom. Gil watched him for a few moments, before turning to point out a random spot to me. After a few moments, Gil left me on my own in the living room.

“Sorry, Nick,” I heard Gil say in the bathroom. “You've been staring at this girl for ten minutes. Do you know her?”

“No,” his voice was faint.

“Why don't you go do the bedroom? I'll get the coroner in here and finish up in the bathroom,” Gil took pity on Nick.

“Sure,” I heard footsteps go down the hall to the bedroom. I left the living room and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. Very few hiding places, but I still checked.

Catherine and Gil came up behind me in the kitchen. There was nothing. This was absurd. A canine doesn’t just disappear into thin air. It had to be here somewhere.

“Find anything?” Catherine asked, unsure why I was pouring all my energy into the missing dog. I turned to look at her, a murderous look on my face.

“Nothing at all,” I sighed. “Absolutely nothing. Why not leave the dog?”

“Why don’t you go back to the lab with Nick when he’s done processing the bedroom,” Catherine suggested. I blinked but nodded.

“Someone will find the dog, right?” I implored, pleading with my bosses. They both nodded, even though they had already guessed that the dog was probably deceased along with the victim. I went back to poking around, but eventually gave up as Nick was finished processing the bedroom.

“You alright?” I asked him as we put the evidence and kits into the back of the Yukon. Nick had been really quiet after he walked into that crime scene.

“Yeah,” Nick said, though his voice didn’t sound sincere.

“If you need to talk, I’m all ears,” I winked at him, pulling my red hair from the tight bun. I massaged my scalp as I got into the passenger seat, a headache forming in my temples.

“You alright?” Nick asked, a little concerned at the pained look on my face. I nodded, reaching into my pouch to pull out some Excedrin.

“Headache,” I muttered.

“Something about that scene,” Nick muttered, and I left him to muse about the scene. For some reason, the body rattled him. He didn’t know the victim, but there was something familiar about it.

By the time that we made it back to the crime lab, my headache had subsided to a lesser roar. It made it so that I could think. Nick grabbed the evidence from the back of the Yukon and then we entered the building. He stopped by the A/V lab to pick up a file and then we walked to find our coworkers – Warrick and Sara so they could help us in our quest to figuring out what had happened to the poor lady.

On our way to the breakroom, where Archie had advised the missing CSI’s were located, Nick noticed the latest issue of the newsletter posted on the bulletin board. We had an internal newsletter called “Crime Stopper”. This month, Nick was featured on the front cover, complete with inaccurate facts. I stifled a laugh as Nick ripped it off the clipboard, irritated at the issue.

“Don’t,” he warned, crumpling up the paper in his hand. I shook my head, holding up my hands in innocence. I had totally read through that paper – which even included Nick’s Alma Mater and the name of the fraternity he belonged. It was cute, but the others were using it as a way to tease their friend.

As we approached the breakroom, Nick and I could hear the laughter and giggling coming from the two CSI’s in the breakroom. They were sitting at the table, reading over the newsletter, laughing. It was totally absurd. Nick smiled, shaking his head at their antics.

“Who wrote this?” Warrick asked. Sara couldn’t contain her laughter.

“You're kidding me, right?” Nick asked, throwing the balled-up newsletter from the bulletin board into the trashcan.

“Nick Stokes, Crime Stopper,” Warrick read from the paper, deepening his voice. I snickered and Nick laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You went Hollywood on me, man.”

“And I quote, "in his off time, he enjoys creating and inventing toys." That's fascinating,” Sara said. “What kind of toys do you make, Nick?”

“I don’t know who got that information, but I can confirm that Nick doesn’t invent or create any type of toys,” I interjected.

“I thought I got my hands on all those departmental newsletters,” Nick reached down and picked up the newsletter. “Where'd you get those?”

“Greg,” Sara and Warrick said in unison.

“Yeah, that figures,” Nick’s jaw twitched in his annoyance. “All right, listen, Grissom wants us to divide and conquer. Blond hair for you, Warrick.”

“I do love a blond,” Warrick stated, holding up the bag of evidence containing the blonde hair inside.

“Sara, you're on phone records,” Nick put a folder full of phone records on the table in front of Sara who pulled a face.

“Yay,” Sara said, her tone dry as she looked down at the records she would have to comb through. Nick turned and left the room, crinkling the newsletter on his way out.

“Hey, I wasn't done reading that!” Warrick protested.

“Yes, you are!” Nick tossed the balled-up newsletter into the trash can as he left the room. I followed after him, waiting a moment, since he hadn’t given me an assignment.

“What about me?” I asked, trotting after him, questioning on how I could be of assistance to this case.

“You, my darlin’,” Nick winked at me, knowing how much his Texas drawl and pet names made me swoon, “are on a mission to see cause of death. Can you check with Doc Robbins to see if he has a COD?”

“Sure,” I smirked, walking around him. “I’ll find you when I get the results!” He nodded, continuing on his way after I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

I hated the coroner’s office. Doc Robbins and David were really nice, but it was extremely cold down there. I grabbed my fleece jacket and went into the autopsy room. Grissom and Catherine were with Robbins.

“Nick sent me down to see if we had a COD?” I asked, shivering inside the fleece jacket. Robbins usually took pity on me, sparing me a lecture, once he had caught my lips turning blue from hypothermia before.

“COD is asphyxiation,” Robbins said. “Petechial hemorrhaging, cyanosis. Oh, and she’s a natural blonde.”

“So someone died her hair?” I asked, reaching up to my own head of red hair. Robbins nodded, pointing at my natural-colored red hair.

“She wasn’t sexually assaulted either,” Catherine stated. I sighed.

“So torture, just to torture someone. Did you guys find the dog?” I asked and both Grissom and Catherine shook their heads.

“Dog?” Robbins asked, but I wasn’t up for chitchatting about the dog.

“UGH!” I groaned, leaving the morgue. I went upstairs, still shivering in my fleece jacket to find Nick fumigating the plastic bag.

“Find out anything?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at my obvious state of frustration.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “No one has found the dog yet!”

“Sunshine, I meant - ” Nick was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the lab door. We both looked up to see Greg.

“Heard you were looking for me?” Greg didn’t look like he wanted to be here. It looked like he wanted to be elsewhere but wanted to get it over with. I figured that Warrick told him that Nick was ticked.

“Greg. Come here. I want to talk to you for a sec,” Nick stated, looking down at the plastic bag. He put his clipboard and the pen down at the side, as he waved Greg into the room. Greg hesitated at the door.

“Come on,” Nick cajoled, waving him over. Greg finally relented, walking over to Nick’s side where he was standing looking down at a glass tank.

“What's up?” Greg asked. Nick reached over with his left hand, slapping him on the back, then gripping at the base of his neck.

“Stop invading my privacy, man, I don't like it,” Nick stated, not mad, but trying to get his point across. “I'm just trying to do my job around here. I don't need the extra attention.”

“Okay. But, I mean, you are the one who's doing the "Forensic Spotlight" in the,” Greg choked up as Nick tightened his grip. I hid my amusement as Greg winced in pain at his comment. “Department newsletter.”

“I didn't do anything, man,” Nick insisted, not letting up on his grip. “Someone from the community wrote a letter of commendation. Public affairs ran it. Cool?”

“Cool,” Greg grimaced, nodding his head. Nick finally let go of Greg’s shoulder, patting him on the back in understanding. Greg raised his eyebrows as Nick walked around the other side of the tank with his clipboard.

“So, uh,” Greg sighed, moving his shoulder subtly in a bit of pain from the neck pinching, “what are you fuming?”

“Plastic bag from the crime scene. I'm trying to get lucky -- see if I can get some prints off it,” Nick told the analyst. He opened the top of the tank and fanned the fumes. Greg was staring at the front of the plastic bag.

“Did she die of suffocation?” Greg asked. I gasped.

“How did you know?” I asked. Nick stared up at Greg, really amazed that was the only answer he was giving. Greg still stared at the plastic bag in the tank. After a moment, Greg looked up at Nick, since he didn’t get a response. Nick finally determined that Greg saw something. He walked around to the side of the tank where Greg was looking. I got off my chair and joined the two men, just to see the outline of Jane Galloway’s face on the plastic bag.

After several deadend leads that the CSI and Brass pursued throughout the day, Grissom finally called it quits with the rest of us. We departed for our homes. Nick pressed a kiss to my lips as he made sure that I was secure in my vehicle. I promised to call him once I got some sleep and then I left the Crime Lab.

I walked in my apartment, dropping the keys in the bowl by the door. I dropped my kit onto the closet floor, before walking into my living room. There were several messages on my answering machine.

“Hey Aria, just wondering how ya were doing? Give me a call sometime – Bobby,” I saved that message, having missed my surrogate uncle. He lived in South Dakota and owned a junkyard. As a kid I used to love tinkering in his yard, whenever my mom would take me to visit. Then when she married my stepfather, he forbid us from seeing Bobby.

The next message was a telemarketer. I deleted that message, before going into the kitchen. I searched high and low for something to eat – finding a few frozen meals. I preheated the oven. As I waited, I turned on the television. I watched a documentary about Egypt until my oven beeped. Then I put my food into the oven, and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once I had finished the shower, I slipped on a pair of silk pajamas and wandered to check on my food. I figured it had to be done, pulling the meal from the oven. I ate most of it, discarding the rest into the trash can. I sent a quick message to Nick, wishing him a good night, before I threw myself onto my bed, and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up at a reasonably late time. Once I had managed to drag myself from the comfort of my bed, I went to the bathroom – got a quick shower, before applying my makeup. Once I was finished, I went back into my room and dressed for another day of work. I always loved the height that wearing heels provided, but it wasn’t feasible when we spent sometimes upwards of 24 hours on our feet.

I was wearing a pair of light green dress pants, a darker green long-sleeved top, and I pulled on my brown combat boots. I also decided to wear my brown leather jacket to pull the outfit together. (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/647322146460814169/) I grabbed my phone, seeing that Nick had messaged me, advising he was on his way to pick me up.

I sprayed myself with my perfume, before turning off the lights. I didn’t bother with breakfast, as we had a routine. There was a little bakery on the way to the lab, where we picked up breakfast and our coffee.

“Hey!” I pulled open the door before he could knock. Nick whistled as he saw me in my work attire, my cheeks coloring at his teasing. “Nick!”

“Sorry, baby,” Nick leaned down for a kiss, before I pulled the door shut, locking the deadbolt. “I’ve never seen you in a leather jacket.”

“I’m full of surprises,” I threw back at him and he chuckled, opening up the door of the Yukon. I slid into the passenger seat. Once Nick was on the way to our bakery, I noticed something seemed off. “You okay?”

“What?” Nick seemed startled that I spoke for a second. “Yeah, just something odd.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, careful not to pry too much. He shrugged as we arrived at the bakery.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Nick denied, opening up my door and then we went inside. I accepted his inability to talk about it for the moment.

“If you want to talk, you know where to find me,” I told Nick who nodded. Once we each had our food and drinks, it was time to return to the crime lab. I was in and out of the locker room quickly, while Nick hung around to talk to Warrick. I figured, he was unloading the situation with his best friend. I was happy Nick had someone to confide in, if he didn’t want to talk to me.

I found Catherine and Sara in the breakroom. They were looking over the files and the information that Sara managed to find about Jane Galloway.

“What about Jane’s work history?” Catherine asked, filling up a cup of coffee. She sat down and I joined the two as they discussed the information.

“Secretary at a brokerage firm. About three weeks from the day of her death she took a leave of absence,” Sara advised – my eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that the only one?”

“Yes,” Sara confirmed.

“Medical records?” Catherine asked and Sara looked down at the paperwork in front of her.

“She saw Dr. Slater. Had a prescription for valium and librium.”

“That’s some heavy prescriptions,” I stated. “Anxiety?”

(SARA shows the report to CATHERINE who takes it and looks at it.)

“Severe anxiety due to personal reasons,” Sara handed the report to Catherine who took it to look over the information as well. “One day back from leave, Jane quits her job. No notice. Hotel receipts show she checked into the Monaco for two nights.”

“The hotel?” I questioned, taking the receipts from Sara. Then I handed them to Catherine.

“A week before that she goes on a frightened woman shopping spree,” Sara told us, showing us the receipts to multiple hardware stores. Something was off about this whole situation.

“Hardware shop receipts for locks. Locksmiths. Alarm installations. Phone screeners. The voice on her answering machine—electronic,” Sara read off the information that she could gather about Jane’s whereabouts in the weeks leading up to her death. “She changed her telephone number. She cancels all but one of her credit cards.”

“No paper trail?” I questioned. “No personal way to distinguish herself either.”

“It's as if she's trying to make herself disappear,” Catherine stated, shaking her head as we looked over the evidence.

“Make no mistake. Jane Galloway was being stalked,” Sara stated, voice confident in this answer. All of us could agree – this was textbook stalking behavior. “Emotional terrorism at its finest.”

“And her boyfriend had an alibi?” Catherine asked, disbelieving. It was rare that stalking came from an outside source – like kidnapping.

“Here's the, uh, worst part. Uh, I ran a phone check on all her incoming calls. Guess where they were coming from,” I exchanged looks with Catherine before we took the phone records that Sara was handing over.

DATE / TIME / PLACE & NUMBER CALLED 4/16 / 2:44 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0146 4/16 / 2:56 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0198 4/16 / 5:15 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0287 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:22 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/17 / 10:48 am / Summerlin, NV 555-0173 4/17 / 04:16 am / Summerlin, NV 555-0189 4/17 / 3:43 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0132 4/17 / 12:04 pm / Henderson, NV 555-0173

“Wait – isn’t that her own phone number?” I asked.

“Inside her house.” The realization dawned on Catherine who knew that she had to get this information to Grissom and Brass right away. We overlooked something at the crime scene.

“Good work – Sara keep digging. Aria, you help her.” Catherine gathered the phone records and left the room with her coffee. Sara and I got to work, combing through more information about Jane Galloway. I was in charge of making sure that the prescriptions wouldn’t cause some type of psychosis or hallucinations. Though with the evidence that we had gathered – I was confident that wasn’t the case.

We were working on the situation, when suddenly Sara got a phone call from Catherine. Catherine advised us to get a list of utility companies that Jane had and send all the addresses. We would all be out gathering information.

Catherine ended up with the carpet installation. Warrick and Nick were in charge of the Luna Cable company. Sara was going to talk with the appliance delivery. Grissom was talking to the gas company, and I was to talk with the alarm company.

Unfortunately, the alarm installer didn’t know anything. He couldn’t even remember Jane’s name, just that he remembered putting in the state of the art alarm system for her. He said she was strange, but most single women in Nevada were worried about their safety, so he chalked up her nervousness to that.

I had just thanked him for his assistance and was walking away when I heard my phone ring. I grabbed it out of my pocket, expecting it to be asking if I had found anything. Only for Warrick to tell me that Nick was being transported to Desert Palms Hospital. I dropped the file onto the passenger seat and flipped on the sirens, before peeling out of the parking spot.

My heart was pounding as I raced to the Desert Palms Hospital after Warrick had called to tell me that Nick had been injured. I couldn’t focus on anything other than the loud thumping in my chest as well as my hands shaking on the wheel. I don’t think that I was alright to actually drive to the hospital, but I needed to be there.

Once I had parked the SUV, haphazardly, and not entirely in a space, I rushed into the Emergency Room doors. One of the nurses took pity on me, asking me why I was there.

“My boyfriend – Nick Stokes – was just brought in? He’s part of the police,” I explained, my heart thumping.

“I think your friends are over there,” she pointed out Warrick and Brass who were pacing a length of hallway. I thanked her, ears whooshing with my heartbeat as I tripped over my feet in my haste to get to them.

“Whoa,” Warrick steadied me before I could barrel right into him. “He’s alright,” Warrick soothed.

“Are you sure?” I asked, heart still pounding loudly behind my breastbone. It almost hurt, it was beating so fast and felt like it was hitting against the bone.

“He woke up before the paramedics got there,” Warrick gave me a light smile. Just then the rest of the team rushed into the hospital, reaching our side.

“What happened?” Grissom demanded.

“He was pushed out of a window,” Warrick explained. “I didn’t see anyone leave or enter the apartment.”

“Are you sure he’s alright?” I questioned. Catherine turned her attention to me.

“Honey, you need to sit down,” she urged, forcing me into a seat. “You are as pale as a ghost. Put your head between your knees.”

Catherine forced my head down between my knees, as I attempted to steady my breathing. It took me a while to calm down, the rest of the team offering support and comfort without discussing anything else. Brass had to leave as they were searching for this Nigel that threw Nick out of a window.

Finally, the doctor exited the room that they had Nick sleeping. Sara and Catherine both stood as she came out to give us an update. I didn’t trust my legs to support my weight, depending on the information that we would receive.

“Concussion, two cracked ribs, sprained wrist, five stitches to the forehead,” she explained his injuries to us. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“But he's going to be all right?” Warrick asked the question that was stuck in the back of my throat. When the doctor nodded, I cried.

“He needs rest,” she stated, looking back at the unconscious Texan lying in a hospital bed. “But I don't see why he can't go home relatively soon.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Grissom thanked the doctor who left since she didn’t have anything further to state. Warrick was upset, while Sara sat next to me, rubbing my back.

“Damn it,” Warrick hissed, sounding upset and frustrated. “Grissom, this guy was right there. I could have had him.”

“You helped out Nick. That was the right thing to do,” Grissom reassured Warrick who didn’t look convinced.

“Doesn't feel like the right thing,” Warrick grumbled.

“If you hadn’t helped out Nick, I would have shot you Warrick,” I warned the man, who looked chagrined to have even stated that. I wiped the tears from my eyes. It had been too long since I had to sit beside someone that I loved, that I cared for, and had so much uncertainty about their injuries. The last person was my brother.

“You know, Nick was alone,” Catherine mentioned, making the blood in my veins run cold. “The Stalker could have killed him and didn't.”

“Yeah, I wonder why. Let's go back over there,” Grissom stated. Catherine stood up, walking down the hallway. Warrick started to follow the two CSI’s.

“I'm going with you.” Grissom shook his head, putting a restraining hand on Warrick’s shoulder as he turned to leave.

“No, no. You need to calm down a little,” Grissom ordered. “Talk to Nick when he wakes up.”

Sara and I remained in the hallway beside Warrick who didn’t look pleased at the orders from Grissom. I was relieved that they didn’t want me to go with them – but I think Catherine knew it would take me kicking and screaming. Just then, my phone started to ring.

“I’ve got to take this,” I stated, looking down at the unfamiliar number on my screen. I sighed, walking down the hallway away from prying eyes and ears.

“Hello?” I answered the phone to be met with the familiar rough voice of my brother.

“Aria,” he sounded relieved to have my attention.

“Why are you calling me?” I asked him. He sighed, letting out a burst of air.

“Dad’s missing,” my brother stated. I rolled my eyes. Apparently, that was the reason that my brother wanted to call me, have a reunion. All over our father.

“Uh huh,” I wandered back down the hallway when Sara appeared at the end of the deserted and secluded space, waving me on. “Dad’s missing?”

“Yes!” My brother insisted as I entered the hospital room where Nick was awake – groggy and confused but awake.

“It’s Dad,” I rolled my eyes. “You know what he’s like. He’s found himself some Jim, Jack, and Jose along with some blondes. Dad will stumble home like he’s always done at some point. No need to send out any sirens.”

“Aria, I know you and Dad didn’t get along - ”

“Didn’t get along?” I echoed, a bitter laughter forcing its way out of my lungs. “You mean the same man that told me if I wanted to go to college, I better not grace his doorstep any longer? That same father?”

“Alright, so he said some things,” my brother attempted once more.

“No, he’s said a lot of things. Namely how I was dead to him for choosing a different career. I’m sorry, but I can’t argue about this right now. My boyfriend was injured, and I need to take care of him. I’m not helping you track down Dad, when he’s not even missing,” I said firmly into the phone, taking my coworkers off guard. They weren’t used to this side of me. I was usually the nice one – bending over backwards to help out anyone with their situation.

“Aria,” my brother pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “But find someone else, Dean.” I hung up on my brother, turning to the other members of my team and my boyfriend. “Sorry about that. How are you feeling, Nicky?”

“Sore,” Nick groaned. “What’s wrong with your dad?”

“Nothing,” I waved him off. “He’s off on a bender.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?” Nick groaned, but I shook my head, a smile on my lips.

“How could I leave you all alone?” I countered, not wanting to go into my family dynamic. The reason why I was left with my stepfather for years, barely seeing my father after my mother found out the truth of the matter.

“Thanks,” Nick smiled, as the guys started to talk between each other for a while. Sara gave me a concerned look, but I shook it off, content to sit in the uncomfortable hospital chair and watch Nick grow more aware of his surroundings.

The doctor came in while Nick was awake – she explained all of his injuries. I think Nick was a little overwhelmed by the information coming his way. He just nodded his head in response, which is when I knew that he wasn’t comprehending most of what the doctor had just thrown Nick’s way.

“When can I go home?” Nick asked.

“I can release you now that you are awake,” the doctor promised. “Will someone be staying with him?”

“I will,” I raised my hand. “Nick’s my boyfriend. Warrick and Sara will have to return to the lab.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll explain what needs to happen. Follow me?”

I followed the doctor into the hallway where she explained his injuries in full, along with the instructions to follow once he was home. I accepted all the paperwork for his injuries along with the responsibility of taking care of Nick. Once she was done, she left to get the discharge papers. I went back into the room, smiling at the scene of the CSI’s talking and laughing together. Finally, the doctor came back with a wheelchair.

“Now, these painkillers are the real deal, okay?” The doctor stated, handing over a prescription of opioid painkillers. “Don't overdo it. Plenty of rest. No work for at least a week.”

I nodded, understanding the situation. I took the medication, tucking it under my armpit. I would be monitoring Nick – ensuring that he ate with the meds, and that he only took them when absolutely necessary. We didn’t need Nick spending time in rehab over an opioid prescription. Nick was sitting in the wheelchair. He had wanted to walk out, but with his ribs, he could barely walk around to get dressed.

“Will do, thank you, doctor,” Sara stated, while I was still a little emotional. The Doctor finally turned and left. I grabbed the wheelchair handles as we started down the hallway towards the parking lot.

“The gloves, you find them?” Nick asked, disregarding what the doctor had just said about his work restrictions. I shot a glare at Warrick who actually humored him.

“Catherine thinks he might have got away with them,” Warrick avoided looking at me and my murderous glare. “But, uh, Grissom did find some wacky video collection.”

“Of what?” Nick demanded, interest the case well known. I sighed, but thankfully, Sara stepped in, knowing that I was going to snap at him.

“Now, did you not just hear the doctor?” Sara told Nick and I nodded my head, though he couldn’t see me as I was pushing his wheelchair. “You're supposed to rest. We're on it, okay?”

“Yeah, relax, Ironside,” Warrick joked, finally, stopping the information dump that he was providing to the workaholic in the wheelchair.

We had gotten home, Sara helped me get Nick into the car. When she was done, I gave her a smile as I handed Nick the prescription that the hospital had filled. Nick took it, letting me shut the passenger side door. I knew that it killed him that I was doting on him – since Nick was the perfect gentleman. He insisted on always shutting my door, everything that a gentleman would do.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you guys?” Sara asked, genuinely concerned with Nick’s inability to move. I shook my head.

“We’ll be fine. Grissom needs all the help he can get on this case,” Sara nodded, understanding that Grissom and Catherine needed help. Plus Sara was a known workaholic. “Especially now that he’s down two people.”

“Alright,” Sara smiled. “But call me if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” I gave her a hug. “Thanks for being there.”

“No problem,” Sara waved and walked off to her own car. I got into my car and looked over at Nick who looked terrible. He seemed to be in a lot of pain and was trying to hold off on how terrible he felt.

“When I get you home, I’ll make something to eat. You shouldn’t take pain killers on an empty stomach,” Nick nodded, groaning as the car jostled his ribs. I sighed, pulling out of the parking space and then out of the hospital. Thankfully, the ride from the hospital to Nick’s house was relatively short, especially since it was really late.

Nick was leaning against me as I helped him up the walkway to his house. Then he handed me the keys, which I dropped onto the counter along with his prescription. Nick motioned for the bottle which I handed over, going into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water.

“You’re the best,” Nick sighed, taking two pills and setting it down on the counter. I lifted it up and read the instructions.

DESERT PALMS HOSPITAL (NAME) STOKES, NICK (FILL DATE) 4/17/02 PHONE NO. 555-0190 TAKE ON TO TWO TABLETS ... EVERY FOUR HOURS. VICODIN (EXPIRES) 04/17/03 (REFILL) 0 (BY) 11/17/02

Nick shuffled along to the sofa holding his ribs with his arm, where he settled down with a groan. I clucked my tongue in sympathy. I knew how painful broken ribs could be. Especially with the rest of his injuries; though he was no stranger to injuries. A former football player, but it had been several years since his playing days.

“Do you want something like a sandwich or do you think you want a meal?” I called out to Nick. He just groaned. “Nicky.”

“Can we wait for dinner?” Nick asked, more or less pleaded. “Just until the pills kick in and I can actually focus?” I nodded my head, exiting the kitchen.

“Sure. I’m going to wash my face and change my clothes, okay?” Nick nodded as I walked down the hall of his house. I had some clothes in one of his drawers, but I was definitely going to steal one of his shirts. Some nights, it was too exhausting to drive us both home – therefore, Nick would just let me crash at his place. He was too much of a gentleman not to trust; plus the two of us were usually exhausted from working doubles.

I giggled, grabbing one of his extra-soft LVPD shirts. He had discarded it a couple of days ago; which meant that it still smelled like him. I also grabbed a pair of my bike shorts. I went into the bathroom, peeling off my work shirt. I grabbed a washcloth and then washed my face and down my arms. As I was trying to get some of the day dirt off of my body, I heard knocking at the front door.

“I’ve got it!” Nick said. I quickly toweled off, opening the door. I didn’t bother with the LVPD shirt, as I was wearing a sports bra. It covered more than most bikini’s. I walked into the living room where a man I recognized from this case was standing in the middle of the room.

“I saw this house. I saw this house; I saw the number I saw the street name. Something is wrong here. Something terrible is going to happen here,” Morris Pearson stated. The hair on my arms stood up as I stood in the living room.

“Sir,” Nick tried to get his attention, but the psychic was just standing there, looking around. He had been right about everything else in this case – including the breakthrough of the stalker watching Jane from her attic.

“I can feel it,” he murmured, the hair on my arms rising at his words.

“Sir. Sir ... You're going to have to leave,” Nick was standing at the door.

“Please, please, listen to me!”

“Get out of here!” Nick yelled, having enough.

“Nicky! Listen to the man!” I finally interjected, believing that this man knew something. He knew too much about details that were never released to the public. This man knew about the dog.

“Listen to me!” Pearson turned to look at Nick. They stopped screaming at each other.

“I saw the address. I saw this address!” Pearson implored. Nick took a step away from the door.

“You saw my address?” Nick asked, sounding unsettled. Morris Pearson continued to walk further into the living room. I wrapped my arms around my bare stomach, wanting to run back to the bathroom for the shirt.

“Yeah, but that's not it, that's not it. I saw, I saw ... I saw crashing,” he was desperate, trying to state what he had seen in a manner that would make sense. Morris was trying to interpret what he was seeing. “I saw ... falling and crashing-- I saw somebody seeing through the back of his head. I don't know, I don't know ...”

Morris continued to mumble as he walked around. But suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to look at Nick.

“Green tea! Green tea! Does that mean anything to you? Green tea?” Nick and I both shared a look. It didn’t mean anything to either of us. Neither of us were very big tea drinkers, though I enjoyed a cup every now and again.

“I don't know,” Nick shook his head. Not only did he have to deal with this, but he had to deal with a concussion. His phone rang.

“Just ...” Nick stopped whatever he was about to say and answered his phone. I moved around Pearson to Nick’s side. “Hello?”

“Who?” Nick asked, looking over at me.

“Yeah, well, I'm not alone,” Nick responded.

“Your psychic's here,” Nick told who I assumed was Grissom on the other end. Then Nick hung up the phone. He looked over at me, grabbing our weapons out of the hidden compartment by the front door. Our service weapons were back at the station, but these were our personal handguns.

“Mr. Pearson,” Nick cocked his Glock 19, handing me my steel Colt M1911A1. I took the gun in hand, feeling the familiar weight, before cocking it as well. Pearson was out of our sight. Nick motioned to the hallway. “Mr. Pearson. Mr. Pearson ...”

Nick and I walked down the hallway. Nick took the lead, even though he was injured. At this point, I assumed the Vicodin was kicking in, as most of his pain seemed to take second burner. He checked the first door, nothing. Then he looked at the backdoor, but it was still locked and chained. I waited; gun drawn as Nick looked outside.

“Mr. Pearson, you back here?” Nick called, checking the other rooms. We heard the floor creak before a thud was heard.

I pointed up at the ceiling and Nick nodded. We pointed the guns at the ceiling and walked towards the living room. My heart sank as I realized it wasn’t green tea as in the drink, but rather the floor. A green T in the center of his rug. I touched Nick’s sleeve and pointed. He let out a breath at the sight, now realizing that whatever Pearson had seen was about to occur right here.

We both stood still in the living room, listening. The sounds were still coming from the ceiling. We both had our guns trained on the ceiling and all of a sudden, the ceiling caved in. A body hit the floor in front of us as debris sprayed everywhere. Nick dropped his gun while I had plaster dust in my eyes. I heard another thump but couldn’t see well due to the tears welling in my eyes. I still had my Colt in hand.

“Oh, man. You got to ... you got to watch who you let in here,” a male said. I blindly pointed my gun at the location of where the voice was heard. “Guy was snooping around all over the place. You know, smart move. Spare gun.” The male sighed, as I just blinked the dust out of my eyes, getting a clear look at the intruder.

“Put your gun down or I shoot Nick in the face,” I sighed, and set the gun down on the floor. My eyes were finally clearing up. “Ah. Keep it right by the phone, right? Right next to your address book and, and take out menus.”

Nigel Crane, the suspect in our Jane murder, gathered up my gun and then went to the front door. He secured the front door, drawing the chain and locking the door.

“Cops are on their way,” Nick said as I stood in the living room beside him. I took in a deep breath, knowing that I would have to fight this man. I squared my shoulders, planted my feet. He went to the window and pulled the blinds down.

“You wearing my clothes?” Nick sounded sickened. I did as well – knowing that I stole Nick’s clothes for comfort. What was this guy doing? Apparently, he was assuming the identify of his victims. And that explained where all of Nick’s clothing had gone.

“Oh, yeah. I'm ...” Nigel Crane seemed proud of his deviance. “You know, I-I-I picked these up at the dry cleaners and I ... I hope you don't mind. It's just that ... I'm sorry I, I just get a little confused about what's yours and what's mine.”

“You know what? I'm a little confused here myself,” Nick and I were both confused as to who this guy was and why he was trying to assume Nick’s identity. “Uh, why don't you refresh my memory. When did we meet?”

“Sports package,” Nigel Crane sounded incredulous as he snorted. “Hundred fifty channels. I-I-I even threw in a few movie channels. Free. We-we-we talked, like, forever. I mean, it's like I knew you my entire life.”

“You installed my cable.” Nick stated, brain working on overtime. I kept myself partially hidden behind Nick’s muscular body. I didn’t like the way this man was watching me, in my partial state of undress.

“Yeah. The ... the minute I met you I knew we connected. Because you told me what you did and I knew exactly what you were talking about, because ... that's what I do. I do it, too. You know, I observe people. I-I-I notice everything about them. I watch them. All the time.”

“Like you watched Jane Galloway?”

“Jane was cool. But, um, it would have never worked out between us, you know. Never. I mean, she had a boyfriend, and she was kind of stuck up. And you know what, she would have totally, totally gotten between us. So, you know, consider that a gift,” Nigel stated. “Though you have a girlfriend.” I swallowed deeply. This man was seriously unhinged and this might end badly for us.

“A gift?” Nick spat.

“Yeah. Prom night. Your date. Melissa.” Nigel smiled, looking proud of himself. “Bent over the toilet puking her guts out. Is that ringing any bells, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nick sounded freaked out.

“You know, I mean, Jane's hair was the wrong color but, you know obviously, I fixed that. Because I know how much you love redheads,” he pointed out. I felt my face flush as he motioned for me to come out. “Like this lovely specimen. You know, you ... you mentioned her name in your sleep.”

“You watch me sleep?” I felt sickened. I had slept over a couple of times at Nick’s house, used his shower since he installed the cable. He looked down at the dead psychic on Nick’s floor.

“You, um ... you want to open him up?” Nigel sounded eager, crouching down over the body. “Hmm?”

“No, no, it's, uh ... it's not our job,” Nick shook his head as he crouched down to be on eye level with Nigel. “You should know that. It's the coroner's gig.”

“Are you humoring me, Nick?” Nigel asked, sounding outraged.

“No,” Nick shook his head, voice soft.

“You know ... we made friends that day and every time since you just blew me off,” Nigel was definitely unhinged. I wondered how much longer it would take for Brass and the uniforms to come here. “Do you know that? You just completely blanked me. You are so self-absorbed.”

“Nick is not self-absorbed!” I interjected. Nigel sneered at me.

“I was right in front of your face,” he laughed. He stood up, getting more upset. “Manners, Nick! Manners!”

“ey, now, Nigel, now we got a D.B. here, huh?” Nick was trying to placate the man, buy us both some time. “You're going to help me with the crime scene, right?”z\

“No, no, I'm going to ... I'm going to ...” Nigel pointed Nick’s gun at my face. “Give you a brand-new one. I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to give you the best you ever had. Stand up, Nick, Aria. Stand up.”

Nick and I both rose to our feet. Nigel grabbed a hold of me, pulling me into his side. I shuddered at the feeling of his unoccupied hand trailing over my flesh. I really wished I had put on that T-shirt right now, as Nigel’s hand pet my abdomen.

“Nick, you know what a nine-millimeter slug does to a skull at close range? You know?” Nigel Crane held the gun in front of Nick’s face. My eyes filled with tears.

“Yeah,” Nick swallowed hard.

“Blow it right apart, right? Brains like strawberry swirled whipped cream, everywhere. And you,” Nigel pointed the loaded weapon back at Nick. “You'd have to scoop that stuff up, right? Yeah, little pieces of skull and bone and brains. All in individual baggies with the victim's name on the label.”

“ You know I don't want to disappoint you, Nigel, but this isn't the first time I've had a gun in my face,” Nick took a determined step towards Nigel.

“How do you want this to end, Nigel?” Nick asked.

“How do I want this to end?” Nigel echoed Nick’s question. “I want you to be able to remember my name.” He jammed the gun into the side of my head. Nick lunged for the gun, the two of them struggling for the gun. Shots were fired into the ceiling.

Just then, the door burst open, battering ram through the front door. The door crashed open and Brass along with several officers rushed into the house. Their guns were drawn.

“Get down! Get down!” It was a chaotic scene. Nigel kicked me hard in the face, while struggling with Nick. I let out a grunt, feeling my cheek split open, hot blood spilling down my face. Nick managed to get possession of the gun, holding it up to the ceiling. He took a step back, pulling me back with him. We watched as they handcuffed Nigel Crane.

“Hey,” Brass said to the both of us, he put a hand on the side of Nick’s neck. The two of us were emotional at the fact that some strange man was able to violate the house. We were breathing heavy, both of us shaking with anxiety. “It's, it's done. All right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, looking for all the world like this wasn’t done, struggling not to cry. Nick pulled me into his arms, running his hand down my back as he looked at Brass who called for some paramedics to attend to my cheek.

We were taken to the police station, where Nigel Crane sat at the interrogation room table. He was just muttering the same line over and over again ‘I am one, and who am I?’. It was honestly pretty eerie to stand in the observation room, seeing him mutter to himself.

Nick had his arm around me, reassuring himself that Nigel Crane hadn’t actually shot me as he had threatened. Catherine, Grissom, Warrick, and Sara were with us, watching this bizarre man have a complete meltdown.

“Why me?” Nick murmured. “Why us?”

“I don't think it was about you, Nick. Or Jane Galloway, for that matter. I think it was more about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. His premise is that social beings strive to belong. In Nigel's mind, Jane Galloway was someone he could control which was okay for a while but you ... you were someone he could actually become. See, Maslow's Fifth Tier of the Hierarchy is Self-Actualization.

“The problem for Nigel is that you would have to die in order for that to happen. Or else he would,” Grissom stated, making the hair on my arms stand on end. “He would have shot Aria and then himself.”

“Twenty-five years to life, Nick. It's over,” Sara stated, I turned to look at her as she sat on top of another table.

“It's not over for me or Aria,” Nick murmured. “It's over for Jane Galloway.”

“Well, we should get back to the lab,” Catherine stood, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder and one on my back in comfort.

“Yeah,” Grissom agreed, standing up. Warrick and Sara also stood, moving towards the door. They all left the room, leaving Nick and I standing in the middle, watching the madman that tried to kill me and might have killed Nick in his own home. As it was – Nick’s house was now stained with the death of Mr. Pearson.

#csi vegas #csi cbs #sara sidle #warrick brown #nick stokes #nick stokes x reader #original character #gil grissom #catherine willows #jim brass #stalker #fanfiction

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