Title: Honesty
By: sarcasticsra
Summary: There's a pun about rivers and Egypt. It doesn't apply to Nick.
Pairing: Nick Stokes/Bobby Dawson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 858
Warnings: Mentions of molestation.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I only torture them as a hobby.
A/N: Thanks for the beta, Kate. Was written for [info]psych_30, prompt #30: Denial.

i. let's play a game



Nick Stokes wasn't crying.

Big boys didn't cry, and he was a whole nine years old. His tears weren't mixing in with the hot water of the shower-it was nearly unbearable but he liked it that way-because he wasn't crying. He wasn't scrubbing at himself with a force that would worry his father and frighten his mother.

He was fine.

("Nicky," says the babysitter, smiling sweetly, her voice sugar and spice. She's new, was available on short notice. Nick smiles shyly at her, trying to be polite.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asks, minding his manners. His mom would be proud.

"Let's play a game," she replies, smiling wider. Nick smiles back uncertainly.

"Okay. What kind of game?"

"You'll see. I think you'll like it." Her blue eyes flash as she says this.

Nick's smile falters.)


 

ii. you a faggot, too?



Nick Stokes wasn't angry.

His friends were just jokers. There was no reason to take what they did so seriously; it's not like it affected him personally. He was doing well; he was now twenty-one, his birthday had gone great, and he had a date tomorrow with the lovely Angela Peters.

He was happy.

("Look at the faggots!" Jake crows, pointing at two guys walking down the sidewalk holding hands.

"That's disgusting," pipes up David. "How can they do that?"

Nick shifts where he's sitting-they're stopped for lunch at one of those places where you can eat outside when it's nice-and doesn't say anything. At least not until Jake stands up.

"I'm going to go teach them a lesson. You guys want to come?"

David readily agrees, but Nick shakes his head. "C'mon, guys, let's just ignore them. We don't need to waste the energy."

"Like hell we're going to ignore them." Jake is walking toward the two men, David close behind. Nick runs to catch up, trying to block out the filth and the epithets Jake is spewing.

"Guys, let's just go. Jesus Christ, why do you two have to act like idiots?" Nick says, pulling them away. He shoots an apologetic look at the two men and drags his friends back to their table.

Jake glares at him. "Why'd you stop us, Nick? You a faggot, too?"

Nick doesn't answer.)


 

iii. the game has only just begun



Nick Stokes wasn't upset.

It was just a tough day at work-truly, he has had worse. All he needed was some breakfast, a hot shower, and a good eight hours of sleep, and he'd be fine. He'd be back into work, helping get criminals off the streets.

He was satisfied.

(Nick stares into the cold, blue eyes of Melissa Stevens, wondering if she recognizes him. He sure as hell recognizes her. How could he forget?

"Ms. Stevens," he grits out, forcing himself to be cool, professional, "it looks like you're going down for child molestation. Anything you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm not worried," she replies calmly, her voice as icy as her eyes. "I don't lose."

"Yeah? Well, I would be. Your game is over. Nick Stokes is going to make sure of that."

Recollection flashes in her features.

"The game has only just begun, Nicky."

The sickly sweet tone nearly makes him shudder.)


 

iv. if that's what you want



Nick Stokes wasn't scared.

He'd been through so much in his life-he'd survived a stalker, being buried alive, and much, much more. It took a little more than a conversation with Greg to shake him. It was just Greg being Greg, anyway. Nothing to get scared about.

He was calm.

("Hey, Nick?" Greg asks one day. They're changing in the locker room, about to go home.

"Yeah, G?"

"You know we're good friends, right?"

Nick looks at Greg like he's just said that he cross-dresses on weekends. "Yes..." he says, trailing off. "You needed to ask?"

"No, just making sure. Anyway, I just wanted to say that it's cool with me. You could've told me, but I guess you weren't sure how I'd react."

Nick is confused. "G, what are you talking about?"

"You and Bobby."

He swallows hard. "Uh, what about me and Bobby?"

Greg shoots him a look that clearly says, 'duh.' "I know you're together. I saw you two at Denny's the other morning."

Nick pales, shutting his locker. "Look, Greg, you can't–"

"I'm not going to out you, Nick. Like I said, I don't care. I don't think Cath, Warrick, Sara, or Grissom would, either."

"I–" Nick starts, before sighing loudly, steadying himself, and gathering his thoughts. "I can't tell them. And you can't either."

"But Nick–"

"Greg. Please." Nick's eyes are pleading, desperate. Greg looks like he's going to protest, but after a glance into Nick's eyes, he sighs.

"Okay. If that's what you want."

"It is. Thank you, G."

Nick expels a breath as Greg leaves.)


 

v. only to himself



Nick wasn't lying.

He was a dependable, straight-forward man. He didn't bother with false pretenses, cover-ups, lies, any of that. It just wasn't his thing. Honesty was the best policy and he had always believed in that, abided by that.

He was honest.

(He only lies to himself.)


-End