Title: Aftermath
Author: Perfect_Irony
Pairing: Warrick/Nick
Rating: Pg-13ish
Spoilers: Grave Danger
Summary: Warrick can't leave...
Disclaimer: I own nothing, if I did, I wouldn't be sitting here writing stories about it.

***

Warrick knows he should go home. He knows he needs a shower, and he could probably use some food and a nap. But he can't bring himself to go. He hasn't left Nick's side for more then five minutes since they pulled him out of that damned box.

He doesn't have to stay, the whole team has been here on and off all day. Nick won't be alone. And he's too out of it to even know Warrick is there. But still, he can't leave. Warrick needs him close by. Needs to assure himself that Nick is really fine, that he's not lying in the morgue somewhere, or worse, still buried alive somewhere they'll never find him.

He came way too damn close to losing him today. Nick is one of the permanent features in his life, and Warrick's not entirely sure what he would do without him.

"I'd do two out of three but you've got a gambling problem."

Without the comments that for all intents and purposes should offend him, but only seem to make him smile.

"CSI-3 seniority, sweetie"
"Yeah, whatever. You're henpecked anyway"

"Yeah, go ahead, honey. Save my life."
"Excuse me, "buttercup"

"He's messing with my man"

Without the easy banter, the teasing jokes, the flirting undertone.

"Don't do it Nicky"

It killed him to watch Nick with the gun, knowing that Nick could pull the trigger and there was nothing he could do but watch. He couldn't have handled it if Nick had pulled the trigger. If he had died alone in that box. He was nearly hysterical with relief when it turned out Nick was shooting at the light, rather than himself.

"You son of a bitch"

Warrick had never felt so helpless, so broken.

"How you holding up?" "I'm not"

And he wasn't. He was falling apart, and he didn't know what to do about it. He'd lost his cool at a fucking crime scene for Christ's sake, even contaminated evidence.

"Catherine is something happens to Nick, if we don't bring him back in one piece..."

If he was this lost, this distraught when there was still a chance of survival, how would he have reacted if Nick had really died?

"We got you Nicky. Hey put that down. We got you."

The moment they found him, when he brushed away the dirt and caught a glimpse of Nick's beautiful face, he could practically feel the relief spread throughout his body.

"Hang on buddy hang on"

He wanted nothing more than to take Nick away from his prison. To hold on to him until this entire encounter faded away until it was nothing more than a twisted nightmare.

"Are you kidding. I'm not leaving without Nick. Im not leaving here without him"

Screw the fucking bomb, he had finally found Nick and he sure as hell wasn't letting him go now.

"Stay still. Stay still. I got you. I got you."

He wished he could offer Nick more than quiet assurances, but Nick was clutching like a lifeline, and it had to be enough.

Everything after that is a blur, getting Nick out of the box, crawling in to the ambulance with Catherine. He remembers the feel of Nicky's hand in his own. The warmth emanating from the skin from under his palm, and he can't stop touching him, patting him. Because Nick is alive and in front of him, and Warrick needs that reassurance.

He's pretty sure the shear volume of his feelings for Nick should be freaking him out right now, but he'll deal with it later. For now, all he needs is for Nick to open his eyes.

***