Title: Promises
Author: podga

Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Spoilers for Season 5 "Grave Danger"
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them
Summary: Established relationship. Gil fights to save Nick.

It's a normal shift and he's feeling pretty damn good about solving a case and his Trigger ownership certificate, when the call comes in. At some level, he always expected a moment like this; they might not be in the immediate line of fire, but the job has its dangers. At least it's not final. Gone missing is just that. Not dead. Just …missing. It makes him feel a little better, helps him breathe against the crushing weight he feels in his chest.

He tries not to let his imagination rush ahead as he drives to the scene, the siren wailing, Catherine silent beside him. He concentrates on driving, his hands in a perfect ten-past-ten position on the wheel, not resting his heel on the floor and swiveling his foot between the gas and brake pedals, but lifting it completely, following for perhaps the first time in over 30 years instructions given to him long ago, during his first driving lesson. Before he became a CSI, before he came to Las Vegas, before Nick joined his team.

He climbs out of the truck, looking straight ahead. People are milling around, searching for clues, looking purposeful and busy. He feels a red hot flare of anger. It's obvious they have no idea what they're looking for. It's pointless, useless. They're useless.

Brass is yelling at a tall policeman. Gil's seen him before, but he can't remember his name. Nick remembers names and greets people when he arrives at a scene, Gil thinks, his eyes stinging suddenly. Gil bets that Nick had a conversation with this policeman as well. Why didn't you keep an eye on him, he wants to yell. Why didn't you look after him?

Catherine and he follow the red evidence markers, stopping at number 4. A cigarette butt, a flashlight and a vest. He's finding it hard to breathe again. Catherine squats down in front of Nick's vest but he moves on, looking around, willing Nick to come walking out from one of the garages or from behind a dumpster. Come out, Nick, he pleads silently. Come out. Stop hiding. Come out. He can hear Catherine talking behind him, but he doesn't pay attention. Come out, Nicky.

Concentrate! Stop thinking about Nick. Concentrate on the evidence. The sealed evidence bag with the cup in it. The pool of blood surrounding the entrails. Let the evidence speak. Listen to it. Interpret it. Only it has nothing to say. Absolutely nothing. Every trail peters out. A dead end is the worst place you can be on a missing person's case, he'd said to Nick years ago.

"Maybe it's a random act," Sara says later as the team sits together, trying to shape the evidence into something that will make sense. If it's random, if it's not connected to Nick, how will Gil find him? What about the coffee cup, he asks, even though he knows Sara is sure to have checked it out, would have mentioned it if she'd found something.

The envelope with the tape and the flash drive give him something to work with. When they listen to the tape, he finds his mind wandering, trying to remember the name of the band. They'd had some kind of hit, hadn't they? What was their name? He's still trying to remember when he plugs the USB stick in.

When the ransom message appears on the screen, he's relieved. It's a kidnapping. A business exchange, with rules that he can interpret. They've broken hundreds of similar cases. It's going to be OK. And then he sees Nick on the screen and his heart stops. It's OK, Nick, he thinks. It's OK, sweetheart, we'll get you back. But there's a 2nd voice in his head, telling him he will never see Nick alive again, that he can't solve this case.

All of a sudden he's grabbing for his calculator, figuring out Nick's air supply, trying to factor in all the parameters. He's aware that his team is looking at him a bit strangely, but he doesn't care. Catherine says it for him: there's an extra air supply. Whoever took Nick, they don't intend for him to die. I'll get him back, he reassures himself.

He wants to like Nick's parents, but he can't. He tries to make allowances for Judge Stokes' abrasive behavior, for his throwing his weight around, for behaving as if he's sitting at the bench.

"How did you feel when your father died?"

"I missed him. I guess I didn't really understand what was going on."

"What about now?"

"What do you mean?"

Nick shrugs. "I don't know. I just wondered what it would be like, not trying to live up to someone's expectations all the time."

"Aw Pancho, what the hell you got yourself into?" the judge mutters and Gil finally understands. He understands Nick's insecurity, why he feels that being loved is something he needs to earn every day. He looks at Nick's face on the screen and feels pity for the little boy who grew up being taught that everything that happens to him, whether good or bad, is a direct result of his own behavior. Everybody walks out of the room and Gil stands there alone, his eyes glued to the screen. It's OK, Nicky. I'll get you back. I don't know how, but I'll find a way.

But it's Catherine that finds the way and instead of leaping up and hugging her, he finds himself arguing ethics with her. He sees her look at disbelief as he sits there refusing the money, refusing Nick's lifeline. Who the fuck cares if anybody thinks that Braun is bribing the lab? Why the fuck is he so concerned with behaving like a supervisor, like Nick is just a member of the team? He should pull himself off the case, he's too emotional. But he can't fall apart and he won't abandon Nick. He needs to be in charge of the search, even though he knows he shouldn't be.

When he steps out of the lab, he's surprised to find it's daytime. Standing in front of the old warehouse, he feels cold and he can't stop trembling, despite the hot, bright sun. He grips the heavy leather bag and steps into the dark building, seeing the white Ford parked right inside the entrance. Warrick was right.

He can't see the man very clearly. He looks middle-aged, maybe a bit older than Gil himself, in a dark suit. He sounds calm, reasonable and Gil starts to feel that this will just be a straightforward trade. Only the guy is letting him see his face. That's not right.

"Are you two close?" the man asks.

Yes, we are. He's my life, only he doesn't understand it. "That's none of your business."

"What does Nick Stokes mean to you?"

Everything.

"How do you feel when you see him in that coffin? Does your soul die every time you push that button?"

Yes.

"How do you feel, knowing that there's nothing you can do to get him out of that hell? Helpless?"

Yes.

"Useless?"

Yes.

"Impotent?"

Yes, yes, yes.

The explosion doesn't kill him. But when he comes to and realizes what happened, he almost wishes it had.

"Why didn't you tell me when you were going deaf? Why did you pretend?"

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I could've been there for you. It would have helped you."

"No. No, it wouldn't have."

"Yes, it would, Gil."

They lie quietly in the dark bedroom. Gil listens to Nick's breathing and wonders what it would be like if he couldn't hear it.

"Hey, Gil? If the situation is ever reversed, if I'm in trouble? I'm not like you. Stick with me."

So he will. He'll stick with Nick and he won't give up. Even if all he can do is sit in the A/V lab, hoping against hope that Archie will manage to find the source of the video feed in time. He stares at Nick, ‘listens' to his message to his parents and friends, even though he's not sure that Nick would want him to do that. His eyes are burning and his throat hurts from trying to suppress his urge to cry. He feels like he hasn't slept in years.

He doesn't think he can feel worse, but he does when Nick calls him "Grissom" and apologizes for disappointing him. It breaks Gil's heart that even in what he believes to be his final goodbye, Nick keeps their secret.

"No, you never did, Nick," he says.

They're not going to find him. Nick is going to die and Gil will never get another chance to show Nick that he loves him, to convince Nick of that fact. It's been a long time since he prayed and he's not praying now. Not really. He's just promising Nick that if he comes back, Gil will never allow him to doubt what they have together ever again. For as long as Nick wants it. And then the ants come, and Gil starts to believe that he might be able to fulfil his promise.

He watches Warrick and Brass and a couple of officers digging desperately. He wants to help, but he can't. He just stands as if frozen to the spot, watching, counting off the seconds in his head, just waiting to see Nick. When they finally reach the box, he calls instructions on how to kill the fire ants, amazed at how calm he sounds. They're almost there. In a few minutes, they're going to pull Nick out and he's going to hold him in his arms.

When Catherine yells her warning, it doesn't faze him. He's here now and he's going to keep Nick safe. Nick isn't going to die. He jumps into the hole and lays his palm flat against the plexiglass.

"Put your hand on my hand," he coaxes and Nick does so, spreading his fingers against the plexiglass.

"Say, I promise," Gil says, not so much because he doesn't trust Nick, but because he needs to hear his voice, even broken as it is.

And then, when he and Warrick pull the cover off, he can finally touch Nick. He hears Warrick behind him murmuring reassurances and wishes he could do the same, but he's not sure he knows how and besides, he can't speak around the lump in his throat. He just holds onto Nick, wondering how he's going to let go long enough so that they can pull him out of the hole. But he does and then he watches as they put Nick into an ambulance, as Warrick and Catherine climb in as if Nick is theirs and not his.

There'll be time enough for Nick and him. All the time in world.