Title: Pieces of Memory
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Author: BflyW
Rating: G
Category: hurt-comfort
Timeline: Set in season 8.
Warning: mentioning the death of a toddler. If you can’t read stories concerning that issue, this story is probably not for you.

Summary: Nick meet someone from his past, and this meeting opens up for a lot of memories.

Thank you: jayceepat for beta and input. violet_eyes for  valuable input.

Nick locks himself into the townhouse and throws the mail onto the table just inside the door. It’s nothing but junk mail and he’s more than glad there weren’t any bills. Doing a full body stretch he’s flashing his six pack to no one but a lazy cat. He walks towards the kitchen and the cat follows close behind in hope of scoring some grilled chicken.

 

“Hey kitty,” Nick greets the feline while teasing it with a paper he has rolled up like a base ball bat. The cat merely looks at him, not taking the bait. It’s an old cat but new to Nick, so he’s unaccustomed to playing with it.

 

Nick’s hungry and is almost certain there’s left over Chinese in the fridge from yesterdays meal. Greg loves Chinese and there’s never been more Chow Mein in his fridge than since he hooked up with Greg.

 

Greg can eat Chow Mein in all variations; chicken, beef, pork and shrimp, or often he orders a combination of them all. He himself prefers the shrimp or chicken, or better yet broccoli in hot garlic sauce with pork.

 

The cat currently rubbing herself against his feet though likes the chicken grilled with just a little seasoning to top it off. Nick has already learned to obey those needs. He throws her some white meat before picking up the box half full of Chicken chow mein and pops it into the microwave.

 

He sets the micro for 4 minutes on 750 watts and heads into the bathroom while picking up some stray clothes that haven’t found the way to the hamper.

The view that greets him in the bathroom mirror isn’t pleasing. His skin tone is washed out and all that’s left is ashy grey. He used to be tanned once upon a time. He thinks he can recall it, in a distant memory before the job took over all the hours of the day. The bags under his eyes are too big and too dark to be erased with just a good night’s sleep. He needs a day off and he needs it soon.

 

Starring at his own reflection in the mirror he starts to count back to the last time he and Greg had a day off. Come to think of it, he starts thinking about how long since they had sex. It must have been some time last week, he’s sure of it, he thinks…. His mood is falling with each new day he can add to the count. He’s bordering on depression when he ends up at eight and he wonders how it can have been that long.

 

Eight days without sex is too long for a relationship that is only six months old and has just taken a turn toward serious.

 

Eight days is too long for any time in his life, but especially now when he has a young, virile and willing lover under his own roof.

Thinking back, he remembers the B&E in Henderson that turned out to be an insurance fraud. The shift wasn’t so bad, but Greg had to work extra hours on his DB on the strip. Actually Greg had to work many extra hours the next days as the DB wasn’t just any tourist but a B-celebrity causing enough interest to make the case hard to work.

 

When Greg had finally managed to catch a break, after four days, Nick had landed a case with two dead children. It had stretched into doubles for both him and Catherine and even a dead tired Greg had lent them a hand. 

They did sleep together that fifth night, but they were both dead on their feet and ended up with just that; sleeping.

 

Optimistic that they would have the next day together they had started shift that sixth day, only to be handed yet another double murder.

 

Nick is still on his case with Catherine, but Greg has been handed another case involving the mysterious death of a business man.

 

And this is the reason there has been no sex. There simply hasn’t been time or opportunity. Unless he wants to grab a quick one in the storage room at the lab, he is doomed to be without sex until they get out from under the massive work load.

 

The main reason for the extra workload is something he doesn’t want to think about.

 

He misses her. He misses his friend.

 

The value of Sara’s expertise is clear now that she has left. He only prays that they can fill her position with someone at least half as experienced as she is. They need it, they need someone to help them out, and they need it soon. 

 

The beep of the microwave brings him out of his thoughts, alerting him that his food is heated. He rinses his face with cold water and washes his armpits and torso.

He finds a new shirt in the pile of clothes that is washed, dried but not folded. He realizes that the pile of dirty laundry is about twice as big as the clean clothes pile, and he has a sneaky suspicion that the closet is close to empty.

 

*

 

”Hi mom,” Nick says while fiddling with the cord on the phone on the kitchen wall next to his breakfast bar. The phone rang just as he was about to sit down to eat, and he grabbed the phone with one hand and the coffee cup with the other. He is not about to let the coffee get cold, not when he has dug out Greg’s finest blend. He has a feeling the smell of coffee might wake Greg up, but it’s not that long until Greg has to get up anyway.

 

“Hi sweetheart, how are you?” His mom sounds cheerful in the phone, which is a great relief. The last few calls have been filled with worry over one or more children or grandchildren, and she needs a break from minor injuries and crises in her family. He can’t fathom how it must be to have so many offspring to worry about. He has no clue how she’s dealing with it all. He thinks it has to do with her solid marriage to his father. They seem to have a good relationship, and lend each other the support they need. Nick can only hope to be so lucky.

 

Sure they have had their fights. Loud fights as well and not always fair, but they have always made up and moved on. They have always seemed to come out stronger from every crisis, and the love between them seems to grow each year. Maybe he is just getting sappy from being in a happy relationship for once.

 

Nick takes a sip of his coffee knowing that it will be a long conversation. His mother calls about this time every other Thursday (which is usually his night off) to make sure he’s okay. She has her own schedule worked out to make sure she calls all her children at least twice a month, and with seven children that means one phone call every other day. She never fails to do so.

 

“I’m fine mom, just getting ready to eat. I had to work a double and I just got home. You don’t mind me eating while talking to you, do you?”

 

She hates the sound of chewing through the phone, but she wouldn’t take the chance of him choosing food over talking to her. She knows her son well enough to know that he loves his family to heaven and back and food even higher than that.

”No, not at all, you must eat.”

 

“You know, mom,” Nick says after the initial small talk, “I have found someone.”

 

He has wanted to tell her for a while now but has never found the right time. He and Greg have been seeing each other for six months now and it’s about time to tell the family. He knows this will make his mother happy. Her children reproducing certainly makes her happy, and he only hopes that him settling down with someone will be enough for her after he has made her wait for so long.

 

“You have?” The joy in Jillian’s voice is apparent, just as he knew it would be.

 

This is the information she has been waiting for, for so many years. Ever since his heart broke so many years ago, she has been hoping for good news. She hasn’t pushed him on it knowing that it’s a sore point and she’s doing what she can to prevent him from hurting any more. Too much has happened to her baby boy, and she wants to wrap him up in cotton and keep his heart from bleeding.

 

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I have. This is the real thing.”

 

For the first time, it didn’t just feel right from the start, it didn’t feel enough. It wasn’t enough dating, he wanted more and he wanted to share his life with this man. They aren’t technically living together but when a man brings his cat, Nick considers it a sign of something permanent.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. I’m a step dad to a cat, mom.” He can hear her laughter through the phone lines, and it sounds like music to his ears.

 

 “Good for you. You deserve all the happiness you can get. So, tell me about her”

 

“Well, mom, I don’t know. I..,” he takes a break, “I have put off telling you, because I don’t know how you will react. I mean, I think you will be okay with it, but I don’t know about everyone else. Or, actually I don’t know about you either.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” Jillian sounds worried now. Knowing how her son has been hurt before, she desperately wants what’s best for him.

 

“Mom, I’m in love with a man.”

 

“Are you telling me you’re gay?”

 

“Yes. Well… I have always known I was attracted to both women and men. I just hid it because, well there was no need to tell. Not as long as it wasn’t anything serious. As I said, I didn’t know how y’all would react. And well, as I’ve grown older I’ve grown to like men more and more, and women less and less, so I mostly like just men now. I have always hoped to find the one woman that could be right for me, so that I could marry her and never say anything, it’s just that she never showed up, and the right man did.”

 

He thinks maybe he over-talked a bit. He feels nervous. Maybe Greg is rubbing off on him?

 

“Oh, Nick…”

 

“I’ve been in love with him for so long mom. Almost eight years I think. I just wouldn’t admit to it. It is too complicated, in more than one way, and well, I didn’t think he liked men, much less me. But when it turned out he did, I had no choice than to be with him. I simply can’t find anyone else as long as he exists, he’s my one. I love him. I’m sorry if it hurts you.”

 

“It doesn’t hurt me, Nick. I love you. I’m surprised, I honestly had no idea, but it doesn’t hurt me. I’m too old and have seen too much to close my eyes to how rare true love is. If your true love is a man, then that’s who you should be with.”

 

“Thank you, mom.” He’s smiling. Telling his mother has been his biggest worry. He knows if he has his mom on his side, nothing can go wrong.

 

“So, are you going to tell me about him?”

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s Greg… Sanders.”

 

“Oh…” a disappointed undertone in her voice rang through.

 

“What? A second ago you seemed fine with it? Did it finally hit you that I’m gay?” Nick feels hurt and answers more childishly than he usually would.

 

“No, hon, that part is fine. It’s the co-worker aspect of it that concerns me.”

 

“Yeah, well that concerns us as well. That’s really why it took us eight years to get together, but I really think when I’ve found true love, I should go for it.”

 

“I think so too. But how will you deal with it?”

 

“I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that I would rather quit being a CSI than give up on Greg. This is really new still, so I…we haven’t talked about it. But I think we’re coming to the point where we will have to talk to Grissom, and God help us all, Ecklie about it, and come clean. I don’t want it to blow up in our face later.

 

“Okay, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

 

“I don’t, but I have to do it anyway.”

 

“Well, he’s a fine man. From what you’ve told me he sounds wonderful, and the few times I’ve met him he has made a real good impression. You must bring him home soon so we can get to know him better.”

 

“Yeah,” Nick can’t help but let out a sigh still worried about the rest of the family’s reaction.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Hon. Dad feels the same way I do, and your sisters bark more than they bite. They have a tendency to have a lot of opinions, until it happens in their own family, and then the pipe suddenly has a different tune.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

They do a little more small talk, talk about his sisters and his father before the end the call. He eats the rest of his now cold food in silence and is about to throw the carton in the bin when the bedroom door opens and Greg pops out all ruffled from sleep; his left cheek red and painted with pillow marks.

 

“Hey,” He greets his boyfriend, giving him a kiss, morning breath and all. Oreo, the cat is greeting her master with a lazy rub against his feet and a happy meow when he lifts her up. She has needed thick black and white fur and long whiskers, and she weighs about double what she should be. She isn’t as active as she used to be, and the food plate is never far away.

 

“Hey yourself,” Nick answers, not bothered by the morning breath, “did you sleep well?”

 

“Yeah, I did. Missed you though, but it was good to sprawl all over the bed.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“Have you just come home?”

 

“About half an hour ago. The shift stretched out. I’m glad I have tonight off, I really need some shut eye.”

 

“You’ve eaten, or will you have breakfast with me?” Greg finally sees the opportunity to eat with his boyfriend.

”Just ate the rest of the Chow Mein. I can make some pancakes for you while you’re in the shower, and then I’ll have another cup off coffee while you eat though, how about that?

”Thank you!”

 

Fifteen minutes later Greg’s freshened up and ready to eat. He digs into the pancakes before he remembers hearing the phone earlier.

 

“Was it your mom calling?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Any news on her site? Is your sister feeling better?” Nicks sister had her appendix removed a week ago, but is doing fine under the circumstances.

 

“Betty’s fine. No trouble there. I told her about us though.”

Greg stopped the fork halfway to the mouth gaping, “you did what?”

 

They hadn’t talked about it yet, and frankly, he had expected Nick to want to stay in the closet…. for a long time! He didn’t mind Nick coming out, but he had no plans of pushing, and he was totally taken by surprise.

 

“I told mom. You don’t mind, do you?”

”Of course not, surprised that’s all. What did she say? How did she take it?”

 

“Well, she didn’t mind me being gay. She obviously likes you, but she’s concerned about me dating a co-worker.”

 

“Oh, that”

 

“Yeah, that.”

 

“So, are you concerned?”

“I am.”

 

“Ah, so, what do you think?”

 

“Listen Greg. I’ll take a shift change or whatever to be with you...,” Greg’s about to interrupt when Nick signals to him to let him finish, “It’s no sacrifice, so don’t you dare say that! I have learned something from brushing death so many times, and that is to embrace what life offers you, and I am not willing to let you go. So you just have to deal with that! You’re with me as long as you want to be, and as long as you are here, you are my first priority. End of discussion.”

 

Greg smiled as he finished his meal without a word. His eyes speak volumes though as they meet Nick’s over the syrup-covered stack of pancakes Nick has made for his lover. He is there to stay.

 

It’s a slow shift for once and they are all in the break room enjoying a late night lunch. The last couple of weeks have been slow, and they have all been able to catch up on both sleep and love making. Warrick is snickering into his cup of coffee as he was joking about a case they just finished.

 

It’s been a long since they’ve been this relaxed.

 

Things have changed through out the years. They were once so young and full of ambition, now they are all worn down by the long hours and too many meetings with cruel reality. They have a way of keeping each other sane, but now and then that safety net is wearing rather thin.

 

Their comfort with this job was disturbed after Sara left. Sara was a strong personality in their team, and it was noticeable when she was no longer a part of them. Their balance had shifted, and they all struggled with finding equilibrium again.

 

Grissom is still in touch with her, and she has called Greg on occasion as well. Greg considers her as one of his best friends.

 

He always loved to flirt with her, but that was mostly to boost her self esteem. He knew she was feeling down for being rejected by Grissom for so long (but obviously not as long as he had thought. She had fooled him!). When that scumbag Hank Pettigrew had screwed with her mind, he had wanted to take her out for real to show her that she was worth much more than that low life. Except, she knew he preferred men, so she wouldn’t have bought it. No, they stayed friends, and thought of each other more as brother and sister.

 

With her gone, Greg feels a bit lonely. Sure he has Nick and the rest of the team, but not the one to girl-talk with. No one ever accused Sara of being a girly-girl, but when the two of them had time of their own, they would get down to talking men and fantasies. There was one thing she never spoke of though; she would never let him in on the secrets of her past. He only hopes she would talk to Grissom about that, just like he would keep his inner secrets for Nick.

The present was no problem, she was there for him whenever he was down, and he was there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. She has even defended him to Grissom when he was feeling stressed about the coroner’s inquest, saying she was the one who had turned on the music, when it was in fact him.

 

He misses her now. He wants to tell her that Nick has declared his love for him. That he is in it for the long haul. She knew about them even before they were an item. Greg never hid the fact that he was gay from her and that he had his eye on one Nick Stokes.  She knew them both and supported his crush, except that she had no idea Nick was gay as well.

 

She did hear about their first kiss before she left them. He received a couple of emails from her afterwards, but he hasn’t told her more about him and Nick. She seems rather unstable at the moment and he doesn’t want to rub her nose in his own happiness. She needs his support, that’s all.

 

Her kidnapping had been hard on them all. He had flashbacks to Nick’s kidnapping, and almost hurled plenty times. He never knew how he managed to go through the day Nick was taken, and yet there he was again, searching for a close friend. He hadn’t even dared asking Nick about his reaction, afraid to open a wormhole of feelings. He had observed Nick’s reaction when he thought himself alone, and he knew Nick was more affected by his own abduction than he let on. He usually puts on a mask and hides his own feelings.

 

Now that he sleeps in this man’s bed, he also knows that Nick still has nightmares, that is, when he sleeps at all.

 

Nick barely sleeps more than 3 hours at a stretch and then he wakes up and has to walk around his living room for half an hour before he can calm down again. Greg had once asked him about it and Nick said he had to make sure he had room to move, that he was not still in that box. 

 

Sometimes, when Nick has an especially bad night, Greg will get up with him and put on some music and slow dance with him until his lover starts to relax. They won’t follow up with sex, just spoon together in bed, Nick in front of Greg, and Greg wrapping his arms around him. He will monitor Nick’s breathing, noticing how it will slowly fall into a steady rhythm of peaceful sleep.

 

Catherine is in the middle of telling them a story about Lindsey when Grissom comes in with a paper slip in his hand. A body has been found at the Rampart Casino, Warrick, Catherine and Nick are put on the case.

Nick collects his food to stash it in the fridge in hope of eating the rest of the tuna sandwich later. He sends a glance at Greg before leaving, not too discrete, but not too obvious either. They have decided to talk to Grissom by the end of the week, and are ready to take the consequences whatever they might be. They don’t expect too much trouble with Grissom considering his own history with Sara.

 

*

 

 

Nick follows Warrick into the Deluxe Guest Room nodding at the officer at the door as he enters. He has no direct sight of the victim and takes in the view of the room. There is no immediate sign of a struggle. Brass informs them that it is a middle aged woman that booked in last night and was found dead this morning when house keeping came to clean the room. She was lying across the bed silent as though she were sleeping.

Nick walks up to Warrick to have a better look at her while he is waiting for Dave to show up.

 

The lady’s blond hair is spread out on the pillow forming a fan. It would probably have been beautiful at one time, but now it looks dry and tainted with grey. He always thinks that when a woman reaches a certain age they usually better with short hair. He even had a long discussion with Greg about it at one time, and he of course disagreed with him completely.

 

He doesn’t mind long hair on a younger woman though, hell he even appreciate’s it, but when the hair turns grey and dry, he finds short hair to be a better look.

 

She is slender built and wears a short skirt covering close to nothing. Her legs are skinny and loose skin is hanging around her calves. She had probably been tan at some time, but the skin is sallow looking and old beyond her years. Too much time in the sun and too much alcohol and cigarettes would be his first guess, although he obviously doesn’t know her.

 

He takes a step closer to look at the face still turned away from him. He tilts his head to look at her in the right direction to stare straight into her open eyes. The empty eyes that stare back at him are familiar, and he can barely hear his own voice when he whispers “Natalie”.

 

“Excuse me?” Warrick looks up at him from his kneeling position beside the victim.

 

“That’s Natalie Montgomery, from Dallas. I knew her a life time ago.” Nick explains not breaking his gaze.

 

“Do you want to be recused from this case?”  Warrick’s thinking about protocol that state’s that you should not work cases where you know the victims. It’s important that you keep your distance from the case so that you follow the book and have valid evidence to provide to the court in the end.

 

“Nah, I’ll..” He stops halfway.  It has been years, and he does not have any unresolved feelings towards this woman. She’s in his past, but it is quite a past. “I think maybe I should,” he finally says.

 

“Okay. What can you tell me about her?” Warrick know to take advantage of Nick’s knowledge.

 

“She’s about 60 years old, a couple of years younger maybe, I’m not sure. One daughter; Madeline, but no husband. She works at the kitchen in the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Dallas, at least she did 14 years ago when I knew her.”

 

He realizes things could have changed in the 14 years since he last saw her; they certainly have for him.

 

“Did she have a habit of gambling?” Brass asks as they all could see the chips on her bed. He has been quiet all this time and Nick almost forgot he was here.

 

“Not that I know, but she has been known to use her money foolishly. I wouldn’t be surprised to find she had been gambling, but she wouldn’t spend more than she could afford.”

 

“And her daughter, you mentioned one, do you know her?”

 

“Yes. Yes I do. Haven’t seen her in a long time though.”

 

Not in just as long. Not once had their paths crossed in all those years.

 

“Do you mind if I notify her?” Nick asked Brass. They aren’t even friends anymore, but he would still be a familiar voice.

 

*

 

Nick is pacing the floor clutching his phone in his hand. He wonders if she still has the same phone number, if he can still punch in the same ten numbers to hear her voice. She has always had such a beautiful voice. It’s warm, her voice, and she has always spoken in a sing song way, as if she was always happy. Well she did, up until that time….

 

He wonders if her happiness ever returned, or if she’s still lost.

 

He remembers how she fell to pieces. How she looked so small and broken. Her beautiful face was painted with despair, and her eyes were pure pain. They pierced him, and he could not bear looking at her anymore.

 

He’s pacing the floor knowing that he has to deliver bad news, and he is in no way ready to do so.

 

Melanie takes a taxi from the airport straight to the CSI Head Quarters. She received the phone call just hours before and hearing the voice of Nick Stokes was a shock. She never thought she would hear his voice again, and when she did it felt like an electric current running through her body, and yet so natural at the same time. His news though was devastating.

 

She knows that he must have hated making that call, and knowing that he is a CSI, she knows that he could have chosen not to. She is thankful though that he did it after all. When she did have to receive such horrible news, she definitely preferred him to be the messenger.

 

It’s 14 years, 2 months and 4 days since she last saw Nicky. She can still see the image of him in her mind; his body tall beside her petite form.  His whole body slumped with exhaustion and he had the saddest eyes she had ever seen. He was broken and in despair.

 

She watched his back when he left her at the sidewalk outside the company building of McCracken, Taylor & Nelson, P.C, and she followed his car with her eyes as he drove out of her life.

 

14 years, 2 months and 4 days.

 

She had changed since then. She had been to hell and back, and hoped that he had also managed to return to life. She is watching him now walking towards her in the hallways of CSI HQ and he at least appears to have healed. He’s just as handsome as before, just not as young as he used to be. His life experiences are chiseled in his face and it just adds to the magnificence this man represents for her. His hair is starting to get a few silver strands over his ears and she is feeling the need to touch it. He is more handsome than ever.

 

“Melanie,” he says and open his arms.

She nearly drowns in his embrace and she lets herself be swept up in his hug. He holds her close and pats her hair like he always used to do when she was younger. He has always managed to make her feel safe.

 

“Come here, monkey,” he says and holds her tight.

 

“Hey monkey,” he yells at her. She has been climbing the old oak in their back yard. It has been there since before his father was born, and is close to 45 feet tall. She has climbed one quarter up and sits on a branch looking down at him waiting for him to come up to her.

 

She has long deserted the tire swing his dad put up when his brother was a boy, and that was now about to be switched with a baby swing for the firstborn grand baby. His sister had a baby almost a year ago, and he’s the proud uncle to a little boy.

 

He felt so uncomfortable the first time he held the baby. It was so tiny, so fragile, and not really that pretty, but to his delight the baby stopped crying as soon as  he was laid in his uncles arms.

 

Sean Jacob Stokes Bennett was the first baby to ever capture Nick Stokes heart.

 

“Hey monkey,” he shouts up to her, “I have the brat with me, hope you don’t mind.”

 

His 15 year old best friend loves his little nephew and spends every possible moment at the Stokes ranch to watch the youngest of his clan whenever she can. It’s a way for her to get away from home.

 

 

 “Hey monkey,” she answers back crawling out of his embrace to take a good look at him. She cups his face in her hands and looks him deep in his eyes. “My Nicky,” she says and gives him a kiss.

 

*

Greg locks himself into his own apartment. He swings by the kitchen to catch a left over beer bottle from the fridge before opening the balcony door to sit down for a while. The old rocking chair from papa Olaf has kept him company many mornings after a rough shift, and it will once again do the job. He folds out the fleece blanket he leaves in it for chilly mornings and wraps it around himself when he finally sinks down in the old worn out chair. He rests his legs on the railing and pushes the chair into a rocky movement. He keeps the rhythm slow and steady, just the right pace to calm himself down.

 

He doesn’t know exactly why he’s upset. He feels fairly certain that Nick is his. He has said that he’s in for the long haul, and he should trust that, but that was of course before this woman showed up. But if Nick was interested in her, he would have kept it hidden, wouldn’t he? You don’t cheat in the open, before your lovers face, do you?

 

But there certainly is something between this woman and Nick, something that Nick has kept hidden from him.

 

He takes another sip of the beer and puts it down on the glass table a little harder than intended. The bottle hits hard before it slides, falls off and crashes to the concrete floor. The impact breaks the bottle and glass and beer spreads out in all directions.

 

“Shit,” the word is out before he can think, and in the next minute a red head is popping up over the screen separating his balcony from the neighbors.

 

“Everything okay, dear?” a rusty voice wheezes out and he doesn’t even look at her when he nods yes.

 

“You sure? You don’t look okay.”

 

“And how do I look?” Greg glances up at her now, while he’s brushing beer off his trousers.

 

“You look like you’ve had better days.”

 

Well yeah, he definitely had better days.

 

“It’s been better, it’s been worse, you know…”

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

He looks at her again. Her hair is pulled together with a hair band at the top of her head, leaving the carrot rug of hers standing out like a hay stack. Her freckled skin is looking more like a prune every time he sees her, and one of long cigarettes she enjoys smoking out on her balcony is held between her index and middle finger.

 

“It’s a man-problem.” He explains, deciding to open up. Mrs. McCormick has never let him down yet.

 

“Come on over and I’ll make you a good breakfast,” she says,” you look like you could use a decent meal.”

 

He sweeps up the mess from the beer bottle before he pads into Mrs. McCormick’s apartment. Her apartment is a mirror of his, only with darker colors and crochet work all around.

 

He hasn’t done much to his apartment since he moved in. It’s painted in sterile white and he has covered the walls with colorful pictures, and mostly filled it with black furniture. He has never got around to setting up many book shelves, and most of his books are still in boxes in his bedroom and living room. It’s a small apartment and he has no spare bedroom to use as an office, so he has furnished a corner in the living room as an office and set up a desk and shelf to cover his need for a work space.

 

He has spent hours in that corner doing research and writing on his book about Las Vegas. Catherine’s mother has been a helpful source and a resource through it all. He doesn’t think Catherine will be too happy to know all the little stories she has told him about her growing up either. Judging by the stories, he would say Lindsay takes after her mom when it comes to obedient behavior. It is comforting in a way as well; seeing how well Catherine has turned out makes him believe Lindsay will be just fine as well. He never realized before he started this job, that working graveyard shift in a CSI lab would involve acquiring a whole new family. He guesses it is the strange hours and the things they see in the job.

 

Mrs. McCormick has also become sort of a family; an extra grand mother of sort.

 

It started about three months after he moved into his apartment, four years ago, that she fell and broke her hip. She needed help with the groceries, and he was available. Not that she asked him, but she was climbing out of the cab just as he was getting home one afternoon. She was struggling with the bags, and he indeed tries to be a gentleman whenever he can. If not, his grandmother will slap him from the grave, so he will never pass a lady that needs help without offering it to her. 

 

He has to admit that in those first three months of living there, he had never paid attention to the neighbor living next door. Of course, he was usually asleep when she was up and vice versa.

 

He started doing her grocery shopping for her. She would put the list for him in his mail box, and he would pick it up for her along with his own when he came off shift. He would knock on her door to hand it to her right about the time she would be ready to eat breakfast. It would usually be something in the bags he delivered so she started inviting him to eat with her. They would spend an hour or so talking before he went to bed.

 

He soon learned that she was a widow moving to a smaller apartment when she could no longer afford to keep the house she had owned with her husband in Henderson.

 

She had always kept the house in good shape. They had started out with very little money, but had added furniture and color to their home as they had more to spare. The first daughter had arrived six short months after their wedding, and was the reason they got married in the first place. They would probably not have ended up together if it weren’t for the unexpected pregnancy, but back in those days you didn’t get divorced, and after they did grow accustomed to each other, she would say it was love after all.

 

She cared for her family and he provided for them.

 

When he arrived home from work, she would serve him dinner, and when he sat down in the easy chair she had already laid out the news paper for him to read. It was a routine never broken for almost 40 years. Not until the day he felt too tired to read, he’d rather go to bed. It was the last time he was home, and 4 weeks later he was dead from cancer at the Desert Palm Hospital.

 

She would eat alone then.

 

Her daughter was married in New York and would phone home every so often, her son was lost to narcotics ten years before she had buried her husband.

 

She would spend the days alone now, and she was happy every time her young neighbor would stop by.

 

She knew he had a healthy appetite, and she loved making him breakfast. Hash browns and fried eggs seem to be his favorites, and she made sure to make a large portion. She would always give him a couple of slices of fresh bread and a cup of strong newly brewed coffee. She hadn’t been a house wife for forty years without learning how to make a good meal for a man. She knew Greg was full and satisfied whenever he left her breakfast table.

 

Today she wasn’t expecting him. She hasn’t seen him much the last few weeks. He has more or less moved into his young mans apartment. He stopped by to visit with her a few weeks ago telling her that he spent more and more time with Nick, and that he just stopped by to feed the cat now.

 

He let her know that he would also bring the cat to Nick’s so that the only stops he would do would be to collect his mail and do her shopping twice a week. It would always be Tuesdays and Fridays, which is why she didn’t expect to see him on a Wednesday.

 

Greg took a seat in the kitchen chair that was closest to her window. This was where he usually sat in his own apartment as well, and from here he could watch the people walking up and down on the street four floors down. He could usually watch them for a long time getting caught up in some day dream about Nick.

 

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was when he first came together with Nick. They had been watching each other for almost eight years, and he always knew that there was something between them, he just didn’t know what. Nick didn’t seem like the type who would settle with someone like him. Not that there was something wrong with him, and not that Nick couldn’t be interested in men, he always thought he saw some interest in Nick. No, he thought the only thing Nick could be interested in with him was possibly being friends with benefits, and he never thought Nick would go for that. Nick would never sacrifice a friendship and a work relationship for sex.

 

So he was surprised when Nick eventually initiated something more. He had asked him out for breakfast and then back home for a video game. They flirted like they usually did but when they usually broke it off, he rather turned it up a notch. He added more touching, caressing actually, and eventually kissing. And then some more kissing. Greg didn’t make it home that day and he woke up in Nick’s bed just in time for work.

 

He has spent many days in Nick’s bed since then, and after a while he brought the cat over.

 

They had planned a weekend of sex, DVD’s and lazy mornings and he didn’t want to have to go home to feed the animal. So he brought her over hoping Nick wouldn’t mind the extra guest. Since the cat was already there, he had no need to go home on Monday either, and on Tuesday he let Mrs. McCormick know that he would only stop by a couple of times a week to collect his mail and do her shopping.

 

This is the first time he has broken that routine, and all because he caught Nick kissing a woman today.

 

“Have you eaten anything?” Nick asks Melanie, noticing the veil over her eyes and knowing that she is tired beyond belief. He is about to go home and wants to make sure she at least has one decent meal.

“No, not since yesterday”

”Let me buy you something,” he says taking her jacket and leading her out the door. “I know this diner down the street where you can get a decent meal and we will be practically alone in there.”

“Thank you, Nicky. You didn’t have to do all this for me.” She is referring to all the help he has given her. This has been a stressful day, identifying her mother, speaking to the police, giving all the information they need. She has to arrange for having the body sent home, the funeral, all the practical details. She knows it’s a lot to do, She knows it’s a lot of do; she has lived through it before, but of course, it was Nick doing all the arrangements then.

“Do you ever….” She stops before she can finish the sentence. She doesn’t know how to bring up the subject.

“What?”

“So you ever think of Jenny?”

She can hear him catch a breath. He doesn’t answer right away, just nodding.

“Yeah,” he finally says.

“You never,” again she stops. She doesn’t want to sound accusing. “You never visit her.”

“There’s nothing to visit,” he says, she can hear he’s trying hard not to sound angry. “Please Melanie, let’s not argue today.”

“Okay. I just thought…. I thought we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now please, let’s go eat.”

*

They find a table and place an order for eggs and toast.

“You look beautiful,” Nick tells her.

He can still see her beauty behind her layers of tiredness.

“I look like a mess,” she answers.

“No, you look like a princess.”

“I was always your princess, wasn’t I?”

“You’ll always be.”

“Wait up, monkey,” she cries out for him.

He stops and turns to watch her running towards him in high heals and a brightly colored red satin dress that she lifts up a little further than what is lady-like. She has never been too concerned about what is lady-like.

She has arranged her hair in a knot high up on her head, she even has some pearls in it. The earrings that he gave her are sparkling in her ears. He’s so proud of her.

“You’re beautiful, Melanie,” he tells his prom date, admiring the delicate flower before him.

“What? No monkey today?”

“No, today you’re a princess.”

*

“Thanks for breakfast,” Greg says gulping down the last drop of coffee. Mrs. McCormick made coffee almost as good as he did, and he usually added some extra fine coffee in her shopping bag bought with his own money.

“You’re welcome. Now tell me what’s made you so upset today.” She fills up his cup again, knowing he could take another.

“Nick kissed a woman.”

“On the cheek?” She assumes that’s not what he means, but she has to be sure. The look he’s glaring at her tells her she’s right.

“No, on the mouth.”

“And you are sure he kissed her, not the other way around?”

“Does it really matter? He looked like he enjoyed it, that’s for sure.”

“And this happened where?”

“At work. I was going to use the layout room and was coming down the hall when I saw them outside”

“Have you talked to him about it?” She’s not going to let him dig the hole deeper before he does something about it.

“No. I just turned around, didn’t want to make a scene at work. You know, we’re not out yet, and even though we talk about coming out, that is not how I want it done, especially not if Nick’s going to leave me.”

“First of all, you don’t know if he’s going to leave you, and second you won’t know if you don’t talk to him. Who is this woman anyway?”

“I don’t know.”

“You haven’t seen her before?”

”No, never.”

”So he’s kissing a total stranger, and you take off running.”

“Not completely. I finished the shift first, then I took off running.”

“Okay.” She takes a sip of her coffee and looks at him long and hard.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He could have used a little more help.

“Well, what do you want me to say? That Nick’s an asshole?”

“Mrs. McCormick!”

“What? You don’t think I can use words like that? Believe me, I have used worse to describe the men in my life. But no, you are not getting me to call Nick that. You have to talk with him dear. No use running to me with your tail between your legs and expect me to pet your head. If you expect to be in a relationship you need to speak to your partner.”

“What? Telling him that I saw him kiss a woman?”

“Yes! It’s not like he was trying to hide it if he was doing it in the middle of your work place. He can’t exactly accuse you of spying on him, so yeah, you should tell him that, see what he says.”

“I don’t know…”

“What do you think can happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Should I?”

“Has he ever given you any reason to doubt him before, either in your personal life or at work?”

“No.”

“Then why should you start doubting him now?”

*

The house is dark when he locks himself in. Oreo shows up as soon as the door closes and she demands all his attention. He picks her up and gives her a long, thorough hug. He can feel the heat radiating from her, and her purring is calming him down.

“You’re here all alone?” he asks and scratches her behind her ears.

A meow is her only answer.

“I’ll find some food for you, okay?”

He leaves his bag by the door and walks into the kitchen to get her a can of tuna. He uses the good can opener to remove the lid, and pours it into her bowl. He’s about to rinse the tin and throw it in the bin when he hears the muffled sobs from the bedroom.

“Here you go, kitty,” he says and gives her the food.

He walks over to the bedroom door and gently pushes it open. The room is dark with the black out curtains drawn and no lamps lit. He can barely make out the silhouette of the person lying in the bed.

“Nick?”

The person turns his head and looks at him.

“Greg? I didn’t hear you come home.” Nicks voice is raspy and sore.

"Nick? What's wrong?" he rushes over to his boyfriend, dissolved in tears and huddled on the bed. “Baby, speak to me.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how, what?”

“How to tell you.”

“Has something happened? Have you done something?” The image of Nick and the woman is flashing before his eyes, and he can feel his heart ache for a moment.

“I met someone today.”

Greg wants to tell him he knows, but lets Nick do the talking.

“She’s… her name is Melanie.”

“Okay.”

Nick finds a tissue on the night stand and blows his nose.

“She came in from Dallas, because her mother was found dead last night. It was the DB at the Rampart that Warrick and I were called out to.”

“I remember.”

“Well, I knew this woman, so I called her daughter, that’s Melanie, and she came late last night. She took a late plane and drove straight to CSI HQ. I met her there, and well, it woke a lot of memories.”

“Such as?” He still can’t make any sense of the kiss. Would a woman coming for her dead mother kiss Nicky?

“Well, you see… this woman, Melanie. We have a past. She’s…. “

“Go on…”

“She used to be my wife.”

“Your what?”

“Wife. We were married.”

“I heard that! Why haven’t you said…? You’ve been married?”

“Please, Greg… this is hard. Let me finish. If I don’t tell you now I don’t think I will be able to, so please don’t interrupt.”

Nick pulls himself up and draws Greg closer.

“Okay.”

“Greg, I love you so much.” Nick kisses him on his head.

“I love you too.” He feels it’s important to let Nick understand that he’s ready to hear what he has to say. Mrs. McCormick is right, he should hear Nick out.

 

“Melanie was my best friend growing up. She lived not far from us, and she was one year younger than me. She would spend every possible moment at our place,

 

I don’t think she was happy at home. Her mother was always drunk and her step-fathers, there were many of those, were either ignorant or abusive. She would seek shelter at our place, and mom would let her stay as much as she wanted. I think she thought of Melanie as an extra daughter.

 

I met Melanie when she was five and I was six. She had fallen climbing our oak tree, and I caught her crying in our back yard. I ran to my mom telling her there was a strange girl in our yard, and mom came out and helped her clean the wound. She had scraped the knee, and she was proud when mom put a large band aid on it.

 

She ran away shortly after, but a few weeks later she was back again.

 

You see, we had a tire swing in our tree and she wanted to use it. She snuck in when she thought no one saw her, but a five year old girl isn’t really that stealthy.

 

I don’t know what mom did about finding out who her parents were, but knowing her, she probably hunted her down pretty fast and made sure it was okay for Melanie to spend the time with us. Melanie was soon a steady guest in our house, and by the time I was ten I called her my girl friend. Of course, I would never touch her; the thought of touching a girl was disgusting.

 

I think Melanie and I were my sister’s pets.

 

By the time I was fourteen my brother and two of my sisters were already married, and the first of the Stokes Grand Children had been born.  Sean was the tiniest, ugliest child I had ever seen, and I fell instantly in love with him. I think you know he’s my favorite nephew, and I think it’s because he was the first.

 

Melanie was kind of an aunt for him, and we used to babysit him for Stephanie. I was the only one still living at home, and Melanie was more than happy to help me out.

 

I think we liked playing house with him.

All I had ever learned, all I was raised up to believe was that I was one day going to provide for my own family. My own wife and children. I really believed Melanie was my future, I had no other dreams than to provide for her.

 

I didn’t react much to the fact that even though I turned 18, 19 and then 20, I had no real interest in sleeping with her. I did know that I was more interested in looking at boys, but that was not something I could consider, not the way I saw it.

 

I started college, and Melanie followed me. She was bright and had a scholarship, and she started pre-law with me at Rice.

 

It was just natural for us to share a house, and well, it felt like we should try to be a real couple. I don’t know what she felt, if she ever felt it was right, or if she just followed what she thought she should do, just like I did.

 

Anyway, by the time I realized this was in fact wrong, she was already pregnant.

 

I could not leave a pregnant woman. Not one I had been determined to take care of my entire life. Not Melanie.

 

So I did the right thing, I married her.

 

I think I could have stayed married to her the rest of my life as well.

I wasn’t happy, but I was living with my best friend, it could have been worse, you know?

 

September 19^th 1993, Jenny Marie Stokes was born.

 

Greg, I’m telling you. She was so beautiful. Melanie was so brave. She was doing such a good job, and she gave me the most beautiful daughter in the world.

 

3 days later we went home with a tiny little baby girl, and we put her in the crib I had used when I was a kid. We all had used it.

 

She was the light of my life, I tell you. So tiny. So beautiful. So full of life.

 

And then, one morning, she let Melanie sleep all night.  Melanie got up and went over to the crib and Jenny wasn’t breathing

 

Oh my God, Greg, you can’t believe the scream that Melanie gave. It was a primal scream. Our baby girl was dead. She had stopped breathing. She was just lying there. She was cold already. 

 

I don’t think… I don’t know… I don’t know what I did. How I came through it. Melanie was falling to pieces, and I think I knew I had to take care of her. Of Jenny, of everything. So I just shut off. I hadn’t time to react to it then. I had phone calls to make, a funeral to plan. I couldn’t react. I just… I shut down Greg.

 

I don’t think… I wasn’t  a good husband to Melanie. She kept sitting by Jenny’s crib. She looked at the photos. She cried and cried, and she kept saying her name. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to think. All I wanted to do was to get away. I couldn’t be there. Not in the house where my daughter had died.

 

I couldn’t listen to Melanie, so I ran.

I ran Greg, and I stayed out of our house all day. I worked all I could, and if there wasn’t any work for me, I drove. I could drive for hours. I just didn’t want to stay home.

 

When I came home, I would sneak into the spare bedroom and sleep there.

 

I couldn’t sleep next to Melanie. Melanie would cry all night, and I couldn’t listen to it.

 

5 months later Melanie asked me to move out.

 

We couldn’t live together like this. I couldn’t watch her grieve like that, and she couldn’t watch me shut off like I did, it was like I couldn’t feel.

 

I couldn’t be a husband for her. And when she needed me the most, I did the unforgivable. I ran. I took the divorce, and I moved out.”

 

 

*

 

Greg can’t believe what he’s been told; he’s stunned. He had no idea. How could Nick carry all of this without telling anyone?

 

Nick was so calm when he told him but now he’s shaking like a leaf. It’s like telling him has taken everything out of him. He hasn’t seen him shaking like this since he was lying on the ground covered in dirt after being rescued from the casket.

 

Greg wants to touch him, but he’s not sure if Nick’s up to it. All this time, Nick has kept his distance. Greg opens his arms and gently drags him close. He wants to hold him, assure him that’s everything’s going to be fine. “I love you so much, Nicky,” he whispers into his hair. “I love you so much, and I am here to carry the weight with you. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. Leave some of it for me.”

 

He can feel Nick’s body tremble, and he starts to cry, but he’s not saying a word. It’s like he’s empty now.

 

 “Why haven’t you told me?  You never told me you had a daughter.”

 

“You angry?” Nick finally breaks his silence.

 

“No, hon,” Greg’s surprised he can even think like that, “I am just a bit shocked that’s all. It’s a big thing to keep secret.”

 

“I know. It was private, you know. I just….. It’s not something I just tell, and it’s like….. I couldn’t think about it. If I didn’t think about it, I didn’t have to feel. So I never did. I always tried not to think about it, and it worked, up until today, and now it all came back to me. Seeing Melanie just opened the doors to my memories, and I wasn’t prepared. It hurts Greg. It hurts so much!”

 

“I know, hon, I know.” He can’t do anything other than to hold him tight, and he hurts with his boyfriend as well.

 

The next few days Nick mainly stayed in bed. He couldn’t find any reason to get up.

 

The thoughts he blocked out for so many years are now running freely in his head and causing total chaos. There is no way he is able to keep his thoughts on work.

 

Greg called Grissom and made sure Nick had some days off.

 

He told him it was a family problem. Having seen Natalie Montgomery’s file, including personal information such as daughter, son-in-law and grand child, Grissom already knew the basis of it. So do Catherine and Warrick now since they are working the case.

Greg also told him they were a couple and that he himself needed time to take care of his partner.

 

He didn’t give it much thought that he was outing them, something that seemed like a minor problem considering. Grissom didn’t even react to it.

It’s now been a week and as far as the team goes, they have all asked about Nick and how he’s doing, and no one has made any comments on them living together. There isn’t much he can tell them about Nick.

 

Nick seems to be in a state of shock.

 

It’s hard to reach him. It’s not like he doesn’t want to talk, it’s more that he isn’t able to. He starts a sentence only to drift off half way through. It’s like he loses them, the thoughts that is, and he can’t find them again. There is no coherency in what he is saying.

 

Greg is parking his car outside his apartment. He picked up the shopping list from Mrs. McCormick before shift and has bought every item on the list, including Blue Hawaii. He takes the elevator up to the  fourth floor and steps out feeling twice as tired as when he went in. Somewhere between second and third floor the adrenalin from working the case wore off, and he can just feel gravity getting stronger with each step he’s taking.

 

The door opens before he even reaches it, and Mrs. McCormick steps out.

”Give me those bags,” she says and reach out her arms.

 

He always carries them all the way to her kitchen and intends to do so today as well.

 

“I can carry them in,” he says.

 

“Yes you can,” she answers, “but you won’t.”

 

“Excuse me?” He says, wondering why she suddenly won’t let him into her apartment. “Say, do you have a gentleman in there?” he winks at her.

 

“Oh, you wish,” she says. “No, I want you to go into your own apartment and use that fine shower of yours,” she nods in the direction of his door. “You still have towels and some clothes in there, right?”

 

“Yeah,” he says and wonders what brought this on.

 

“You look like crap and smell just as bad,” she explains. “Come have breakfast when you are done.”

 

*

 

 

Melanie is still in town, as they haven’t released the body yet. Nick hasn’t seen her again though. It’s been seven days since their breakfast. Seven days since she asked the question that tore down the walls he had built around himself.

 

Have you been to see her?

 

Not in all those years has he been to her grave, not once. He can’t go back there. Not to a place where there’s a stone with her name on it. Not to a place where a cold body was buried. That’s not her! She’s not there.

 

He can’t find her.

 

He can’t talk to her!

 

He knows Melanie kept talking to her, singing to her. Her beautiful voice would sing Brahm’s lullaby, and it would tear him apart. There was no one there to listen anymore. She was gone. Couldn’t she see that, she was gone. Their baby was gone! She no longer existed!

 

He couldn’t protect her as he should have. He was her dad, he should have protected her!

 

But he was so tired. He was so very tired and he had slept. He had slept all night!

He had the exam coming up. He had studied day and night, and he was exhausted. He was even annoyed when the baby cried and disturbed him. Melanie would do anything to keep Jenny from crying, but nothing helped.

 

Colic they said. It would be worse after every meal, and she would cry so hard that her face was twisted and all red. Her little body would curl up, and even after just a couple of weeks, she would start to shed tears.

 

They tried feeding her more often, less often, massaging her belly, everything. He can’t remember all that they used to do. It was mostly Melanie dealing with it anyway, because he was studying. He needed to do good on his exam, so that he could get a good job and provide for his family.

 

That night he slept hard. He slept long.

 

He woke up in the middle of the night, and the green numbers on his clock showed him that Jenny had not woken them up after her usual 3 hours. He didn’t think more of it, he was just happy she let them sleep. He didn’t get up. He turned over and went straight back to sleep. He had not gotten up to check on the baby. He just slept. He was supposed to protect the baby, but he slept.

 

How can he ever forgive himself?

How can Melanie ever forgive him?

He has never asked her for her forgiveness, he doesn’t deserve it.

 

When he was buried, he thought he was finally getting his punishment. He too was given a casket as his bed. But he was rescued, brought back. He was given the chance she never got.

 

And he has to live with it. Every day he has to look at himself in the mirror and know that he did not do his job.

 

 

*

 

Greg knocks on Mrs. McCormick’s door and waits for her to open. He feels refreshed and much better after the shower.

 

“Oh, there you are,” Mrs. McCormick say as she lets him in. “Did you have a nice shower?”

 

He can smell the sent of coffee lingering in her kitchen and walks in before he answers. “A very good one,” he says. He helps himself to a cup after looking at her and receiving a nod in return.

 

“How are you doing, my boy” she asks as soon as he sits down.

 

He isn’t sure what she’s asking and just looks at her.

 

“I will ask you later how Nick is doing, but right now I am asking about you. I guess you, and all your friends are worrying about Nick, but how about you, this isn’t easy on you either?”

 

“I’m…” Greg isn’t sure how to answer. He hasn’t stopped to think how he is feeling. “I’m not sure really. Frustrated, maybe?”

 

“Yes,” she says and hands him a plate of French toast.

 

“I can’t reach him. I don’t know what to say to him.”

 

“So say nothing”

 

And that is exactly what he’s doing, he just stares at her.

 

“He only needs to know that you are there for him, Greg, he doesn’t need you to have all the answers. You can’t have all the answers, so it’s not fair to him if you try to have. Just be there for him. If there’s anyone who can help him find answers, it’s the one person who went through this with him, and that wasn’t you.

 

 

*

 

Greg knocks on the hotel door not knowing if she will even be there. He’s not sure he’s doing the right thing, but he has to give it a chance. He is in totally new territory here, and he has no idea what he’s doing.

 

He doesn’t have much time to think now because the door is opening and he needs to start talking.

 

“Hi, Melanie?”

 

“Yes,” she looks at him with a blank expression.

 

“Hi, my name is Greg Sanders, I’m a friend and colleague of Nick Stokes. Do you mind if I come in for a moment?”

 

She looks at him yet again before opening the door so he can pass by.

 

“What do you want?” she asks after he has stood in the room for a couple of minutes not saying a word.

 

“I don’t know how to start,” he admits, he figures it’s best to be honest.

 

She just looks at him, expecting him to start anyway.

 

“As I said, I am a friend of Nick, and well… erm… he told me about Jenny.”

 

Mentioning her name makes Melanie flinch, she obviously hadn’t expected that. She collects herself immediately though, and asks him to sit down in the one chair that occupies the room. She sits herself down on the bed.

 

“You’re his boyfriend, aren’t you?”

 

He must look surprised because she continues to tell him that she has always known.

 

“I always hoped I would be good enough, that I was the one who could convince him to turn to girls, but I guess that was naïve of me. He always liked boys better. He thought I didn’t know, but I did. I saw the looks he gave the boys when he thought I wasn’t watching, and I know that he never looked at me the same way. I’m not angry though, I know he didn’t mean to mislead me. We were in it together, I as much as he was.”

 

“I am sure he’ll be happy to hear that. I don’t think he knows.”

 

“I guess we didn’t talk as much as we thought we did. We could talk about most things, but not the things that really matters.”

 

“Like Jenny?”

 

“Like Jenny.”

 

She stares right at him, and he is surprised that she doesn’t cry.

 

“I can cope with it now,” she says as if she can read his mind. “It’s been 14 years and I still miss her. It is still painful, but the good memories are greater than the pain now, but I assume that’s not the case with Nick. That’s why you’re here, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How can I help you?”

 

“I don’t know.” He has absolutely no idea what he thinks he can accomplish coming here. He guesses he just needed to hear her story.

 

“Listen, it was a long time ago. We were young. It was a shock and the worst thing that could ever happen to us. We couldn’t deal. I was lucky in a way. My way of reacting was to talk to anyone who would listen, and it helped me move forward. It took years before I could really move on, but in the end I could.

 

Nick wasn’t as lucky, he bottled up. He needed help to open up, but none of us could help him at the time.

 

We were all too absorbed in our own pain to see that he was shutting himself off. So we let him down. We didn’t reach out to him.

 

I have been thinking about it a lot lately, beating myself up for not helping him when he needed it, but I have forgiven myself. I know that I was so deep in pain that it was not possible for me to reach out to him. I can’t blame myself for that anymore. I can do it now though, so please, if there is anything I can do to help him, let me know.”

 

Greg feels the tears stinging behind his eyes as he looks at her sincere face. He can’t believe that just seven days before, he was angry at her for kissing his man.

 

“Just love him, and reach out to him,” she tells him when she sees his expression.

 

“I will,” he promise’s and lets one tear fall.

 

Nick’s staring into the coffee cup. He hasn’t been able to eat anything, and he isn’t able to drink the coffee either. Greg’s off to pay Melanie a visit. He has no idea what Greg thinks he will accomplish with that, but he had no objections. Not as long as Greg promised to back off at the first sign of Melanie feeling uncomfortable.

 

He has thought of Melanie so many times during these years. He has missed her every time something new has happened in his life. From his very early years she has been his best friend, and he never thought he would live without her.

 

He can still go back to the moment when he stood with his divorce papers in his hands. He wasn’t sad they got a divorce; they didn’t belong together like that. But he was very sad the way it happened. Not only for losing their baby, which is something he still can’t think about, no he was sad it happened after he had failed her when she needed him the most.

 

He still feels the need to protect Melanie. He let her down the worst way and he regrets it with every breath takes. Now, he’s scared of letting Greg down the same way.

 

It took a long time before he could laugh without getting the instant feeling of guilt. It has become easier with time. The first weeks he could hardly breathe. Every breath was a reminder that Jenny had taken her last one.

 

Breathing became easier after a while. He could do it without thinking, but he could not yet laugh. He could not feel happy.

 

If he once in a while forgot about it and dared to laugh, he would instantly feel guilty and fall into a deep depression. It was months before he let himself forget about the pain for just a few moments.

 

The image of Jenny in her crib is still so vivid. It’s burned on his retina, and no matter how much he tries, he cannot wipe it out to find space for better memories.

 

Her body was so still. She was like a wax doll; there was no life. He wished that was just a saying, but she was really without life.

 

They say it sometimes just looks like they are sleeping when they’re dead. He has seen plenty of dead people now, and he knows that isn’t always true. Sometimes it is, but far from always.

 

He thinks if some stranger had come into Jenny’s room that morning, they would probably have thought she was asleep, but not him. No, he could clearly see the difference.

 

Her soul had left. She was an empty shell, and he had missed his opportunity to say good bye.

 

Not that he was ready to do so. He would never be ready to say good bye to his baby doll.

 

He thought throwing himself into work and not think about it would take the pain away, and it had. It had distracted him from thinking about it. He didn’t have to feel when he could concentrate on school and work.

 

The studies had taken almost everything out of him, and his work in the gym had taken care of the rest.

 

He hadn’t been prepared for the feelings that hit him when he met Melanie again though. The pent up emotions had not worn off, and it was a flood hitting him like he had never experienced before.

 

He had no idea the emotions would still be so raw. It’s been 14 years goddammit. 14 years! It should have helped, right?

 So here he is, wrapped in a blanket in the middle of the day on a Wednesday, with the black out curtains drawn and a sorry excuse for a sweater as his only outfit.

 

He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t even dress himself.

 

There are clothes all over the bathroom floor, where the hamper is spilling over.

 

He has no clean clothes, and no initiative to wash the dirty ones. The fridge is filled with nothing but expired food.

 

He can’t get out. To go out he needs clothes, but as he’s already stated, there’s no clean clothes, and he has no energy to do the laundry.

 

He thinks about maybe taking a shower, but he realize there’s just about 3 hours until he usually goes to bed anyway; a shower can wait until tomorrow.

 

He takes a sip of the coffee but realize it’s already gone cold, so he sets it down next to the other cup that went cold after he had drunk about half of it. He forces himself to get up from the chair and pad over to the kitchen and pour out the old coffee, so that he can tell Greg he did a little bit of cleaning today.
 

He glances at the clock on the DVD player as he passes the TV and he realizes he has been sitting in the chair for the better part of four hours. The TV is still on but he has no idea what has been showing.

 

He hasn’t had the energy to turn on the computer today, but he thinks he might do it later. Unless he just goes to bed early? He might do that. He sees no reason to stay up anyway.

 

He knows Greg is worried about him. He tries to get him to eat. He brings pizza when he comes home from work and makes him the best coffee and sets the table so he would have a reason to get up. He sees what Greg is trying to do, he just can’t muster up the energy to help himself. So he stays in bed.

 

He’s so deep in thoughts that he hardly hears the door opens. He lifts his eyes and sees Greg walking into the house closely followed by Melanie.

 

“Monkey?” He says before he can even think. Her old nickname seems to come naturally.

 

“Hey monkey,” she answers and gives him a smile. It’s the first smile she’s given him since she arrived in Las Vegas. The first smile he’s seen on her for more than 14 years. She’s beautiful when she smiles.

 

She always was beautiful when she smiled. She used to smile a lot. He always wondered why it was so. He couldn’t see a reason for her to smile that much. Her home environment was hell. Her room would be a mess, and the living area even worse. Her mother would hardly ever be home, and her mothers boyfriend at the time would either be drunk on the sofa or out with friends. Melanie learned early how to cook a meal and wash her clothes. She would wash her mothers clothes as well.

 

By the time Melanie was a teenager her mother had been beat up enough times to know the ER inside out. When Melanie was 14 it was just luck and a fast driving neighbor that prevented her mother from checking out of life early, or earlier he would say. It wasn’t exactly her time yet, and still Warrick is working her case.

 

Melanie moved in with them that summer, and she stayed for 3 months. Mom helped Natalie into a women’s shelter, and with a lot of help and a massive amount of will, she managed to clean up enough to get a job. It wasn’t a fancy job, but it gave her an income. She would do the dishes at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center. It was a monotonous job, and it had to be done. For her, it was her savior. Getting a job boosted her self esteem, and even though she still would drink, she always managed to stay sober for work. Having a job gave her the status she needed, and she never again fell that far down.

 

She still met some real low-lives but she never took a beating like that again.

 

Melanie continued to live more in their house than at home, but she needn’t worry so much about her mom anymore. As long as her mom had a job to go to, she was a different woman.

 

It took a few years before you could really see a difference, but by the time of Melanie’s graduation, Natalie didn’t look so tired anymore. Her body seemed less used. She probably got a larger portion of nutrition and a smaller amount of alcohol and cigarette smoke into her body, and it showed.

 

Melanie’s father has never been in the picture. Nick thinks he must be somewhat dark. Natalie has always had blond hair. Light as the day, but Melanie has dark hair and brown eyes. Her skin has a touch of olive and turns into gold with the first glimpse of sun.

 

“How are you doing?” he says knowing that she must have a hard time losing her mother. Although she wasn’t much of a mom when he knew her, his mother has told him that she had sobered up and changed since then.

 

“Better than you,” Melanie answers and walks over to take a good look. “You weren’t meant to carry this for so long,” she says before he can ask what she means. All he can do is draw her close and cry into her hair.

 

“I didn’t know how to react,” Nick whispers. It’s hard for him to talk about it, and he feels it easier if he doesn’t use his voice.

 

He and Melanie are sitting on the couch and Greg’s out in the kitchen making a new pot of coffee to give them some space. It doesn’t hurt him to watch them together now when he knows that they have a past and that they need to find closure together.

 

“I know. I should have helped you,” she says into Nick’s hair. She is hugging him close. They seem to be hugging a lot today. It’s like they have an unlimited storage of hugs pent up after 14 years of separation. They lace their hands together and just sit for a minute in silence.

 

“I couldn’t cope,” Nick finally says.

”I know. Neither could I.”

 

He can hardly make out her words.

 

It’s difficult to find the words, knowing where to start. The thoughts are just randomly falling down in his head, and he cannot make sense of them.

 

“How’s the case going?” He finds it easier to focus on her mom’s case, and feels a sting of guilt for forgetting about it for a couple of days.

 

“Good, I think. Looks like she did it herself.” Melanie sniffs and accepts the Kleenex Nick hands her from the box Greg has placed on the coffee table some time during the last few days.

 

Suicide. Not always an easy case to work. They would hate to miss a murder covered as a suicide, so even those cases have to be worked thoroughly.

 

“I’m sorry.” He tells her and means it with all his heart.

 

She had not been much of a mom, but she had loved being a grandma.

 

She didn’t have the burden of responsibility when she wasn’t the mother, and being a grandmother suited her.

 

She knew Nick would never let her touch Jenny when drunk, so the baby forced her to stay sober most of the time.

 

When Jenny died, she acted like a mother for the first time. She took care of her own daughter when she needed it. She held her through the tough nights and the terrible days, and when you would except her to drink more than ever, she didn’t even touch a drop.

 

It was like she knew that she had to be clear to go through this process. She needed to be present for any of them to come through it. So by losing a daughter, Melanie gained a mother. But the price was too high to pay.

 

 

“Yeah, me too.” She gives him a sad smile, “she always thought the world of you, you know?”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. You always treated her with respect.”

 

They sit in silence for a while, just listening to Greg’s banging in the kitchen. Melanie stands up and starts walking around the room. Looking at his books, his DVD’s, the pictures he has.

 

“There are no pictures of her,” she says.

 

He doesn’t know what to say so just stays silent’. She looks at him for a long time before she turns back to the pictures. He has candid photos of all his family; his parents, his siblings, nieces and nephews, but none of his daughter.

 

“You couldn’t even look at her photo?” she asks and sits down next to him again.

 

He shakes his head. He has never been able to. He can’t even picture her in his head without thinking about her lifeless body. His voice is trembling when he tries to speak and he gives up. The tears that started to spill a week ago start to flow again.

 

Greg walks into the room and puts down two cups of coffee in front of them as well as a tray of sandwiches.  He then turns to leave again.

 

“Please stay, Greg,” Nick says with a raspy voice and grabs his hand. “You’re part of this now,” he says and pulls Greg down next to him. Nick nearly throws himself into his arms and lets the tears run freely.

 

 “Are you okay with this?” Greg asks Melanie over Nick’s head, worried that she would feel that he’s intruding. He accepts that this is something that belongs to Nick and Melanie.

 

“Sure,” she says. “It’s natural that you’re part of this as Nick’s partner. I talk to my husband about it, so why shouldn’t Nick do the same?”

 

“Your husband?” Nick’s head pops up fast at the new information. He dries his tears on his sleeve and smiles at her. “You’re married again?”

 

“Yes, I’m married again,” she says and shows him her wedding band that they both had failed to observe, “and I have two little sons, twins. Peter and Martin, they are 4 years old now.”

 

“And is your husband okay with you walking around kissing your ex?” Greg asks before he can stop himself. He wants to kick himself as soon as it’s out of his mouth.

 

“You saw that?” Nick asks gaping.

 

“Yeah, I saw that.”

 

“And you didn’t react?”

 

“Yes I did. But Mrs. McCormick convinced me not to kick your ass and ask you about it instead. But before I had a chance to ask, you had already told me who Melanie was, so a tiny kiss became rather minor compared to what you told me.”

 

Both Melanie and Nick laugh at him and Nick shakes his head.

 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want him back,” Melanie says, “he’s all yours.”

 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Nick adds, “Melanie may have my past, but you hold my future.”

 

“I’m not worried about it,” Greg assures him and gives him a kiss, “I trust you.”

 

Jillian puts away the groceries that need to go into the fridge seperating out the supplies that need to go into the pantry.. She has been on a large shopping trip today making sure she has everything to meet her guests’ needs. It’s the second time Nick is bringing Greg home for a visit and the first time the rest of the family get to meet him.

 

The first time he was here was 2 months ago.

 

Nick brought him home for a long weekend in October and she could finally get to know the man who has captured her boy’s heart. She was happy to see him. She had met him before but never as her son’s partner. It wasn’t hard to see the love between the two men.

 

Bill said the same thing, that night when they went to bed.

 

“He is right for him,” he said, and she smiled knowing that Nick had nothing to fear bringing Greg home.

 

He’s beautiful and strong; Greg is.

 

She is praying that he is able to mend her baby’s heart.

 

She hadn’t been prepared for the phone call she received 9 months ago.

 

Nick had called her in the middle of the day when she was just about to leave the house to visit a friend. It was just a couple of days prior to her bi-weekly phone call and she didn’t expect to hear from him at this point.

 

When she picked up he had barely been able to speak.

 

She had told him to calm down and had to ask him three times to tell her what was wrong. All kind of thoughts had run though her head; was he injured? Had something happened to Greg? Was Greg dead?

 

She had finally gotten the story out of him, that Natalie Montgomery was dead, that Melanie was in town and that his old wounds had been torn open.

 

Her friend could wait. They intended to drink tea and play a game of cards, and she would be furious when she didn’t show. She would understand when she explained later though; her son was her only priority now, just as he should be.

 

That was 9 months ago, and there have been many phone calls since then.

 

Her twice monthly phone calls had been extended to once a day. Sometimes they were short and sometimes they could talk for an hour or even two. It was the short ones that worried her the most.

 

It took almost three weeks before he really started to open up to her.

 

It was a Tuesday morning he called her and started by saying he felt guilty.

 

“I felt so guilty,” Nick barely whispers though the phone.

 

“Why?” Jillian asks clutching the handset. She is sitting in the easy chair by the window looking out on the field stretching out as far as her eyes can see. It’s a wide landscape and it covers a lot of history.

 

In this ground, generations of Stokes are buried, and one day she and Bill will also be put to rest here. She can’t think of a better place to spend eternity. 

 

A mild wind is making the leaves in the oak tree dance, and rope from the old swing is moving with it. The ground is dry and thirsty and she’s looking at the horizon hoping to see clouds bearing rain.

  

“I… I felt like I wished her away,” his voice is shaking.  “When she was pregnant… when we first found out, I didn’t want the baby. For a while, I wanted her to have a miscarriage, so that there wouldn’t be a child. The three first months I kept thinking that she could lose it and that I didn’t have to go through with it. And then when Jenny died I thought that it was my punishment because I hadn’t wanted her in the first place. But I loved her so much! Never think that I didn’t love her!”

 

“Oh, baby,” she comforts him, “I never knew.” She didn’t think her heart could break even more.

 

It was Melanie that finally put his heart at ease. She had come over the last time Nick and Greg was here, and she and Nick had sat in the kitchen talking.

 

“I never blamed you for anything,” Melanie tells him over a cup of Jillian’s coffee.

 

“You didn’t? I thought… I thought that’s why you couldn’t look at me anymore.” Nick was honestly surprised.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You couldn’t even have me in house anymore because you hated me so much. I didn’t check on her that night. I slept through. I should have checked on her.”

 

“I never hated you. I was mourning, so were you. And you couldn’t listen to me grieving at the time. You couldn’t deal with hearing her name, and I knew that I had to talk about her. That was my way of dealing. I know you needed help back then, but I couldn’t give it to you. I couldn’t be there for you, we were tearing each other up at the time, but I never hated you. Have you believed that all this time?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nick. You are so wrong. I have loved you all this time. You are still my monkey. You’re my best friend, but we couldn’t go through it together, because we had exact opposite needs at the time.  I knew you wouldn’t leave without me pushing you away, so I urged you to leave. But it I never hated you.”

 

She leans in to take his hand to emphasize that she indeed does not hate him.

 

“And what is this that it was your fault? It was never your fault!” She continues, still looking into his eyes, making sure that he listens to every word. “Of course you didn’t want the baby.”

 

“What?” is all he can manage to say.

 

“We weren’t meant to be together and we both knew that.”

 

“but,…”

 

“Yes, I knew that,” she continues before he has time to protest, “I knew you liked boys. I never trapped you; I didn’t become pregnant on purpose. I was worried when I did, because I knew we could never be happy together like a child’s parents should be. But I knew we could do it, and I still think that we would have given Jenny a good childhood. But Nick, you don’t have, and you have never had the power to wish a baby away. And besides, I didn’t check on her that night either, have you ever blamed me for that?”

 

“No, no” Nick is shocked by even the idea of blaming her for that.

”So why do you blame yourself?”

 

“I was supposed to protect her,” His answer is still the same.

 

“And you did. She died Nick, and there is nothing we could have done about it. With crib death the first symptom is death. You could have checked on her one minute prior and everything would have seemed fine, or one minute after and it would have been too late. There is nothing you could have done, so stop blaming yourself. I stopped blaming myself a long time ago, and I have never blamed you.”

 

“oh…”

 

“Tell me one thing, Nick.” Melanie takes both hands in hers.

 

“Okay,” he nods.

 

“Tell me you don’t feel like you need to ask me for forgiveness.”

 

“Okay,” He doesn’t meet her eyes.

 

“Nick!”

 

“I… I don’t feel I deserve to ask you that, and how did you know anyway?”

 

“Because I know you and because I felt the same thing for a long time. Nick, look at me! There is nothing to ask forgiveness for! We did the best we could. It wasn’t perfect, but it was our best. It’s time for you to move on!”

 

 

*

 

Jillian knows his heart has started healing and his guilt is starting to lessen. When he brought Greg home that weekend he asked to see Jenny’s things.

 

She packed a box of Jenny’s things for Nick when he moved out of Melanie’s house, knowing he would never do it himself. She had hoped one day he would want to look at it, and now the time was here.

 

He had opened the box and Greg sat next to him the whole time holding his hand and carefully looking at the items; the teddy bear, the pink outfit and the album.

 

Greg had held him for an hour that night listening to his crying.

 

They had lain like this many times during the last months, and many times Nick finds it easier to voice his thoughts when he is resting his head on Greg’s chest. His focus is less on the terrible day when she died, and more on the funny things she had done; every time she had made him laugh or smile.

 

The first thing he had picked up from the box was the baby album on top.

 

Nick had been so proud of her and taken a lot of pictures.

 

Everything had to be saved for the future; her first diaper change, her first time in a dress, her first, second and third everything.

 

He picked out a particularly beautiful picture and took it out of the album. It was a black and white where she locks eyes with her dad, lying safe in his arms. Nick is completely focused on her and pays no attention to the camera. The picture is so candid and real, and it is a beautiful moment frozen in time.

 

He gave the picture to Greg for safe keeping and he would later make copies so that he could bring one copy home to Vegas and leave one here in Texas.

 

The picture is finally up on her wall; it’s now part of the gallery where she keeps pictures of all her offspring. One granddaughter has always been missing in that collection and she’s glad to see Jenny’s picture in its rightful spot.

 

It was Nick himself that put it up. He didn’t say a word, he just went into his father’s tool shed and picked up a hammer and nails and made a spot for it among all the pictures of his siblings, nieces and nephews. When he was finished it looked like a large weight was lifted from his shoulders.

 

He would stare at the picture many times that day, and one time when she stood next to him he said: “We are finally up on the wall, my daughter and I.”

 

*

 

It took a few days before anyone else saw the picture.

 

Kirsten was the first. The gallery is placed in the hallway of the Stokes ranch house, and the very first thing you see when you enter the house. Kirsten didn’t say a word, she just stared.

 

She didn’t need to say a word though, they had said so many in the years that have passed.

 

It wasn’t just Melanie and Nick that lost a baby that day. It was the entire family. She lost a granddaughter, Kirsten and her siblings had lost a niece and the children had lost a cousin.

 

They had all talked about it and cried together, everyone but Nick.  They had all grieved, and they all had learned how to live with it.

 

Kirsten had sat down with the kids the same day, all nine of them, and she had to explain that little Jenny was no longer with them, that she was dead. Elisabeth, Michael’s little five year old daughter, had asked why Jenny had grown old so fast. In her mind, only old people died. That’s when Kirsten realized that Jenny had lived her full life. It wasn’t a long life, but it was a full life.

 

Carol was the first to have a baby after Jenny died.

 

She was terrified for years that the same thing would happen to Matthew, and she would check on him every hour of the day. She could not relax.

 

To begin with, she could not put him in the crib they all had used; the family crib; the hundred year old family crib made for her grandfather. 

 

Her husband Marcus convinced her otherwise though. It was hard at first, for everyone, to see the baby in the crib where Jenny had died, but it was important to keep the tradition. Not because of the furniture itself, but as a symbol that Jenny is one of a long line of Stokes, and her death hasn’t changed that. Her death may have taken her away from them, but not her memory or her significance. She is still one of them.

 

*

 

It’s Christmas day and a crowd is forming in front of  the church. They are waiting to get in. The service will start in about 30 minutes and Nick has walked away from the masses and is standing in front of a marble stone. Greg is standing next to him.

 

Jenny Marie Stokes
09/19/1993 – 01/20/1994

 

The words carved into the stone are painful to read and Nick doesn’t even try to stop his tears from falling. He kneels down and lays a single red rose on her grave.

 

“Merry Christmas, baby girl,” he says, “I love you so much, I always will.”

 

“Mom, who’s that man?” a voice sound right behind him. Nick turns to see a four year old boy pointing at him.

 

“Remember I told you how Jenny doesn’t have the same dad as you and Peter have?” Melanie kneels down to him so that their eyes are at the same level. A copy of the boy is standing next to them eying Greg who is making faces at him.

 

“Yes,” the boy nods seriously with large movements.

 

“Well, that is Jenny’s dad,” Melanie continues and looks up at Nick as she says it.

 

“O-kay…” the boy says still looking at Nick. He walks over to him with determined steps, “do you know that she’s my big sister?” he asks whistling on his s’s.

 

“Yes,” Nick answers solemnly.

 

“Do you know that she’s an Angel now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you know that she’s watching over me?” he asks a third time.

 

“Yes,” says Nick again smiling though his tears.

 

“If you’re her dad, she probably watches over you too, so you don’t have to cry,” he says and takes Nick’s hand. “But if you feel sad, you can borrow my teddy,” he adds after thinking about it for a second, but he still cling the teddy close to his chest.

 

“Thank you,” Nick says, “but I don’t need your teddy. I’m not so sad anymore.”

 

 

- The End -

 A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful comments you have given me on this story. It's by far the best received story I have ever posted, and it has been such a great experience for me to receive all these lovely comments. :-)

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