Title: The Blind Side of the Heart
Author: Jay
Rating: Heavy R-NC17
Pairing: Pre-slash Gil/Nick
Warnings: Violence, angst (don't you love it =), WiP
Archive: yes please, just let me know where.
Spoilers: Evaluation Day (just a bit)
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS broadcasting company. No profit is made, only the hope that others will enjoy an act of the imagination.
Summary: Sometimes the things we ignore are actually the most important. Yet it takes a certain situation for us to come to this realization.

***

'So impressed with all you do
Tried so hard to be like you
Flew too high and burnt the wing
Lost my faith in everything'
-Somewhat Damaged, Nine-Inch Nails

It's not so much the lack of attention that bothers me. It's the lack of respect. I may not be as experienced as the others but I am a CSI Level 3, and to my knowledge only those that have completed the required number of cases and shown a professional outlook towards such things are level 3. What makes me so undeserving of his respect? That's not my question to answer, it's for Grissom. Only he knows the reason, and I doubt he would ever tell me.

It is a problem though. This lack of respect makes him treat me unfairly. For example: last evaluation day. Silk, Silk, Silk, What do cows drink? Yeah, well fuck you to Grissom. My intelligence and ability to get the job done cannot be summed up in some stupid little riddle. I bet you he has never done that to another employee. I guess I should feel honoured then.

I never knew that humiliation made such a good teaching technique. Talk about lowering self-confidence. The constant reprimands he gives me, the riddle, the narrowed looks have all officially resulted in me feeling like the most useless, stupid, pathetic being to ever walk the earth. The sad thing is, despite all this I still crave his attention, his approval. Wishful thinking eh?

I don't know what he wants from me. I do my job, hell, I know I'm good at my job, so what's his problem? If he wanted me to be a better CSI, he's going the wrong way to come by it. Discouraging me is not going to make me more resourceful. If he wanted me to be better, he'd encourage me; give me praise where it is due.

I can see the irritated look in his eyes when I ask a question. How else am I supposed to learn? There's only so much you can discover by merely watching. I'm not Catherine; she seems to know pretty much everything about anything, much like Grissom himself. My specialty is hair and fibre analysis. Ask me something regarding that topic and I have no trouble answering it. There are things that I don't understand and I don't know why Grissom gets annoyed when I ask for an explanation. We can't all be like him you know.

The shrill alarm interrupts my thoughts, and I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face. Anymore sleepless nights'days and I won't be able to function properly. Throwing the sheets back, I stumble to the bathroom splashing cool water onto my face. Glancing in the mirror, I pause. My eyes are bloodshot and there are dark bags clearly visible against my pale skin. I look like shit. It's not like anyone would notice though.

I've always liked going to work, having something different to do everyday. Except now, I dread it. I don't want to face Grissom. I don't want to be reminded how inexperienced I am, how useless I am. Today I think I'll keep my mouth shut. If I don't say anything then I can't make a fool out of myself can I? Good thinking Stokes.

Pulling into the parking lot, I merely sit still for a minute, preparing myself for the night ahead. Opening the car door, I get out and make my way into the lab. The halls are eerily empty, strange for the time of night. My footsteps echo, sounding extremely loud in the silence. Entering the Break Room, I slump onto the couch waiting for the others to arrive.

The sound of laughter breaches my unconscious state and I open my eyes groggily. Catherine grins at me from the doorway, arms folded across her chest.

'Good evening Sunshine'

I mumble something that could or could not be interpreted as 'hi' and raise my arms above my head, grimacing when audible pops are heard at the stretching. A deep chuckle sounds from beside me and I glance at Warrick.

'Getting old eh Nick?'

I smile grimly and snort before giving him a not to gentle punch on the shoulder. 'Speak for yourself. You're older then I am'

Opening his mouth to reply, Warrick's response is cut off as Grissom enters the room. I immediately divert my eyes, suddenly finding the wrinkles in my jeans extremely fascinating. Don't speak Nick, keep your mouth shut and you won't do wrong.

'Warrick, Catherine, you two have a 427. Parents are saying that when they woke up, their kid was missing. No note, no nothing.'

Warrick uses my shoulder as a prop and stands up snatching the assignment sheet from Grissom's hand before Catherine. I swear sometimes that man is such a little kid. Winking at Catherine he practically skips out of the room stopping only to call over his shoulder. 'I'm driving!'

Eyes widening, Catherine smiles sheepishly at Grissom before taking off after Warrick. I shake my head and glance at my boss, who's staring in the direction his two CSI's left in, an amused expression crossing his features. I don't think I've ever been on the receiving end of that look. But hey, what can I do?

'Nick, you're with me. We got a DB in a mountain cabin' I merely nod and stand up. A thought registers to my mind and I glance around for Sara only to remember that she had a 'family emergency'. Something about her parents having trouble with their Bed and Breakfast establishment. Just great. I get to work with Grissom'alone.

Not surprisingly, he doesn't say anything else, just makes a 'follow me' hand motion and we're out the door into the wilderness. What fun.

---

I close the trunk to the Tahoe, scanning the dark surroundings. After driving for a good 45 minutes through the mountain roads, the path had suddenly trailed off into a clearing looking very much like an automobile graveyard. Various auto parts were scattered about- axels, bumpers, engine heads, fenders, transmissions- all rusted completely through, as well as the skeletons of over half a dozen junk cars, so overrun with weeds that they seemed to have always been there. The hulking white corpse of an antique dishwasher shone in the pale moonlight, shadowing a weather-beaten doghouse. I can't help but shiver. Freaky.

Kit in hand, I make my way over the weed ridden ground towards the cabin, already draped in the gaudy 'crime scene' tape. As a CSI for the few past years, I've learned to despise that tape. Within its boundaries lies the spot where someone took their last breath, left the earth, soul going to either heaven or hell. Nodding to the officer standing duty outside the entrance, I open the door and step inside.

Walking down the narrow hallway, I am reminded of the stench of a meatpacking plant, the metallic stench of blood overpowering and foul. Fighting down the automatic reflex to gag, I take in the scene before me.

The whole room was covered in blood and whitish brains due to the mangled corpse of a man on the bed. The bed sheets and his clothes were slathered in blood, black and slick as ink. The top left hemisphere of the man's skull had been torn away, leaving a gaping area from his hairline down to his right ear exposed. His left eye was swollen, the resulting hemorrhage leaving it a grisly red, while the right stared at the ceiling accusingly, as if it were responsible for the man's horrid death. It was slaughter. Pure and simple carnage.

'The evidence isn't just going to appear before you Nick' Jesus. I have no idea how Grissom can do that, appear out of fucking nowhere. The thing Warrick told me, about how Grissom said he was a ghost in high school; I can see how it was true. I can also see how it has followed him into his professional life though in a different aspect, that man pulls Casper's like no other.

By the time I left the cabin, dawn had cracked like an egg, a vicious light streaming through the surrounding trees. The EMT's had come and gone transporting the body back to the lab for Robbins to process. The courier had taken the evidence we had gathered and now all that was left for us to do was drive back to the lab. Something I was not looking forward too.

The ride was pretty much silent. Grissom driving. I find the view out of the passenger window surprisingly breathtaking. I can't help but snort lightly at the idiocy that goes through my head, and I catch out of the corner of my eye Grissom glancing at me. Well seriously, the only thing that passes my window is'. a tree, another tree and oh my God, you'll never believe what I just saw! Another tree! Praise the Lord. Everything is green.

Now, I like nature. Really I do. I love the outdoors, hiking, bird watching (as corny as that sounds), running. But being around Gil Grissom changes a person. Like right now, sitting in such close proximity with him, my skin is just itching with his nearness. I hate the man sometimes but as for the other 98% of my close encounters with him, I want to jump him.

Yes, yes I know, shocking isn't it? Nick Stokes all around ladies man has a weird thing for his boss. Thing is I've never really trusted women after my encounter with'. Her. More on that later though. There's just something about Grissom that is just strangely alluring and I know I'm not the only one that feels it. Take Sara for example. That girl is just head over heels for him, every time I see them together, her body language is a little too inviting. And yet, I can't help thinking that if they did ever get together, they would match perfectly, like putting a puzzle together, and that little bit of self honesty breaks a little piece of my heart away every time.

I should learn to live with it though. Because the truth is, the idea of them actually getting together is very realistic and come on. Do you think Grissom would ever fall for someone like me? Never in a million years. All I can do now is try my best as far as my work goes. But we all know:

The best I can do is simply not good enough.

***