Title: Reclaiming Life
By: Shacky20 and Kristen999
Pairing: gen
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Grave Danger
Notes: This story was written by both Kristen999 and Shacky 20. We spent a lot of time planning and writing this post GD story. Each chapter will be labeled by the author who penned it. Feel free to comment or leave feedback on this endeavor, if you have specific questions or comments be sure to direct to whomever the author is of the specific chapter.

Huge thanks to Sunset for taking the time to beta this huge work. Your swiftness and insight was much appreciated.

There have been tons of GD stories, and a ton of familiar ground has been covered. This is our attempt to try to come up with something as true to the show as possible. We focused our scope around Greg and Warrick and their friendship with Nick because of our feelings for these characters and to tell a more concise story. The rest of the team is featured.

Kristen999 Notes: I've never co authored a story with anybody before this has been a wonderful experience and I hope you enjoy the ride.

Shacky20 Notes: Wow, what a ride. This is my first multi chapter fic, let alone co-authored fic. To say I was shocked and ecstatic when Kristen asked if I wanted to co-author a post "Grave Danger" Fic would be an understatement. I only dabbled a little in slash between Nick and Greg and was truly honored she would ask me to write something like this with her. I have learned to much about writing from Kristen, and it has been hard work, and frustrating, and fun, and an adventure, and something I will always be very proud of having accomplished now it's completed. I just wanted to personally thank Kristen for giving me this chance. Hope you all enjoy this as much as we did writing it.
Summary: The Team try to help Nick recover after his abduction and move on. Little does anyone know the true ramifications of this traumatic experience. Goes from the events in the episode to the days and weeks afterwards. This is a Nick-Greg-Warrick Friendship. There is drama, angst and even humor.

***

Chapter 1 by: Shacky

---------

Why was he the one he in the A/V Lab instead of the other way around? Dumb luck he supposed. That's all Warrick could call it, as he obsessed about his current situation. One piece of paper that he handed to Nick sealed both of their fates that night. Now he sat here, watching his best friend on the screen try to fight for his sanity and life. Warrick didn't know how he could ever live with himself if Nick didn't make it out alive. All he could do was watch his friend struggle for breath in his glass prison, buried God only knew where.

He started to get confused, as he was watched Nick's peculiar actions on the web cam. His friend was so scared, frightened like a small animal at night, when that bright floodlight came on. Nick always tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go. Warrick tried to imagine how bright and intrusive it must have been shining on him. To only be able to see dirt and dark surround him. Warrick had to keep turning the light on . It was his only way to ensure that Nick was still alive.

Nicks sudden intent worried and scared Warrick. What the hell was he doing with that bubble gum? All he knew was that Nick was agitated by the lamp and tried to shrink away from it. He saw Nick take the gum from his mouth and put it in his ears.

"What are you doing Nicky?" Warrick asked his friend in the empty confines of the A/V Lab.

Fear flashed across his features as he saw Nick grab his gun and Warrick's eyes widened in fear. He sat rigidly at attention in his chair, ready to pounce at nothing but a computer screen.

'No No No' was going through his head. Nick couldn't do it, he wouldn't!

"What are you doing Nicky?"

"No! Don't do it Nicky!" He stood up quickly.

A million impossible thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to reason with his friend. If he screamed loud enough maybe Nick can hear him and sense his pleads. The bright light from the muzzle made him jump back suddenly.

"You Son of a Bitch!" Warrick screamed, the anger seeping through his voice, while he stared wide-eyed at the black screen.

What he couldn't hear was the laughter radiating from Nick's throat at his one small victory in this horrible game. All Nick thought about was that damn bright light was finally out. He simply laughed some more in his hollow prison.

Nick grabbed one of the green glow sticks left behind and lit it. He had no clue the kind of agony he had just put his friend through.

Warrick's eyes lit back up with unshed tears as he saw Nick's hauntingly eerie green reflection come back on the screen.

"You're still alive," he whispered with a smile on his face.

Of course he's still alive. Nick wouldn't give up on them that easy, not on himself either. Warrick knew Nick was still breathing and that's the only thing that mattered in the world right now, another reprieve. He's still hanging on. With that, the CSI stalked out of the Lab before he screamed.

Warrick tore out and muttered a soft apology to Archie after almost knocking him down.

He ran into the locker room for some kind of retreat, but there is no escape from this nightmare, especially for Nick. Warrick's thoughts drifted back to just a few hours ago. Nick had sat right there next him as he carried on about the escapades of his date from the weekend. No escape. That's all he could think about as he grabbed his locker door and yanked it open with more force than necessary.

The guilt-ridden criminalist stood there staring, memorized by the sight of his own locker. It was so small, so damn tiny. Warrick can't help but think back to his days of Junior High. When the bigger kids, the more popular ones, would put him in his locker. It only happened a couple of times. They would throw him in there and shut the door locking him inside. It was so cramped, so dark, and suffocating. He would scream and someone would always, always, come and open the door and get him out. It only lasted five minutes tops.

Now Nick was buried down in the ground somewhere for hours, screaming at the air, begging for help. But no one can hear his terrified pleas.

However, Warrick's head is filled with his screaming.

Warrick slammed his door shut. He finally gave in and fell backwards, luckily landing on the bench. Warrick held his face in his hands as he cried for his friend. Tears streamed down his face at his frustration in his own incompetence to get him out.

-----

Greg wasn't as naive as most people thought he was. He understood how new he was to this CSI thing. He was officially a criminalist, but barely out of training. Now he was working on what he knew would be the biggest case of his life... ever.

Not only because it was 'one of their own', but it was Nick, one of his best friends. The guy who always took him seriously when no one else even gave him a second thought. Nick was the one who first encouraged him, instead of laughing at the notion that Greg Sanders, Geek Lab Tech, CSI wannabe, should get into the field. He also witnessed CSIs and cops with 13 to 20 years of experience feel as useless and helpless as he did right now. He knew these feelings weren't just because he was green. It was because they were up against a damn smart guy that left hardly a trail and had everyone chasing their tails.

As if you could call Nick a case. He couldn't do that because if he did then, it would make it too real. He would visualize Nick trapped in a small box with a bright light, then he couldn't focus on his task at hand.

So, in the meantime it was a case right now.

Currently the only thing he could do for Nick was to help find him. Greg had to sift through a box of body parts that belonged the bastard that did this to him. That somehow made it easier to look through the blood and pieces of this once human. It made it harder because this was the one person that knew all the answers. He felt no emotion looking at the fingers and bloodied bones and other various parts of the monster who took Nick away from them.

'Great, a tooth, like that was actually going to be able to tell him anything.'

Greg sensed the tension practically radiate off of Warrick's body. The ex-lab tech knew he couldn't understand how the older man felt. He had known Nick for about just as long, as the two pals. But the partners had worked side by side by for six years. Deep down Greg knew that Warrick felt responsible on some level for Nicky being down there. It was either that or the knowledge that Warrick could have been the buried just as easily.

He watched as Warrick tore off another sketch and crumpled it up and threw it down to the ground for the third time in twenty minutes. It landed next with the other useless discarded papers that were just adding up to another pile of dead ends. Warrick carried a big burden on his shoulders, having the knowledge of knowing that it could have been you must have been unbearable. Just as that thought flashed behind Greg's eyes, they lit up for the first time since they got that package at the lab.

"Hey guys, I found the trigger wire." Greg held up his bloodied prized piece, the excitement in his voice apparent of the glimmer that could not be contained. "Once we reassemble all of the components. . . ."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe." Greg could hear the sarcasm dripping from Warrick's mouth.

"Maybe if we came up with of these damn maybes Nick would be alive!" His temper boiled over, as he kicked the bucket full evidence towards the direction of Greg's pile.

Any excitement or hope Greg had held for a moment flowed right out of him. His own anger at the situation brimmed to the surface as well. He could only keep his own composure for so long just like everyone else. Because he was busy searching through boxes of broken body parts looking for even the most minuscule thing. If he found anything...anything at all.. then he wouldn't have to think. Greg would be able to shove the thoughts about his best friend trapped somewhere underground in the vast desert that was Las Vegas, alone, scared, and slowly suffocating. The youngest CSI knew that Nick was just waiting for them to find. Yet, they were up here barely holding it together.

"Was that necessary?" He spat back toward his target, tensions running high on both sides at this point. He stood up ready to stand his ground and challenge the older CSI.

"Never mind the clothes, but look at the evidence." Greg shouted back.

"Damn!" Was Warrick's barely whispered reply, while he threw the rest of his papers to the floor and stormed off.

Catherine who had sat inside the kidnapper's SUV processing, decided she had seen enough and it was time to intervene.

"Sorry Greg, I'll go talk to him." She walked off, leaving Greg standing there trying to reorganize his evidence.

As Catherine went up to Warrick, the senior CSI realized she'd never seen him so beaten down before. Warrick seemed as if it was all already over and they were just searching for a body.

"How are you holding up?" She asked, honestly concerned for her coworker.

"Huh, I'm not." Tears started to pool in his eyes as his solidly built defenses wore down.

"We flipped a coin for that trash." He said, trying to make her understand his aggravation.

Catherine fought to get the right words in to calm his ever growing anxiety.

"Nick is not down inside of that box because of a flip of a coin."

"Cath, if that was me, I... I...would have. . . " and he brought his fingers up to his head letting her know with his gestures what his intentions would have been. That he would have already given up by now.

Catherine wouldn't believe that and she couldn't let Warrick either.

"Hey! I know you, and I don't believe that!" She tried anything to reach through the guilt and fear. Catherine truly believed that Warrick wouldn't give in that easily either.

"No." Warrick's words were spoken softly but forcibly. "You're wrong, I wouldn't have lasted this far. Cath, if something happens to Nick, if we don't bring him back in one piece... ."

But that thought was left unfinished as they were interrupted by an enthusiastic Greg once again. There excitment over a lead, soon evaperated when they uncovered another dead end.

After they quickly got over the disappointment they realized the key piece of evidence they had just uncovered. The Prototype box. Nick was probably in it's exact mate, only larger. They uncovered the rest and took everything back to the lab to see what they could hopefully decipher, if anything form the Plexiglas Hell they uncovered.

Nick was still buried somewhere out there.

-----

Things began to happen quickly by some miracle. It was a horrible way to find out, but is was a small miracle in a way nonetheless. The three had learned of Nick's newest battle.

Ants. Fire ants to be more exact.

Sara came running in to the room telling the three of the discovery and they were all to meet in the evidence room immediately because this was there best chance yet to pinpoint where Nick may be buried out there. The atmosphere in the room among the whole team automatically changed and for the first time that night they felt they were ahead of the game. They had a real lead on to where Nick was. Slight hope was seen on the faces of the team, instead of constant despair.

-----

All the clues had come together. The ant species, the miles on the SUV, the nursey Kelly Gordan had worked at.

Ten minutes and it would all be over. Greg looked at his own watch as he followed the rescue and police units speed towards their destination.

'God couldn't they drive faster? Ten minutes wasn't enough. But he wasn't gonna be this close to finally finding Nick to have time run out on them. No, that was NOT going to happen'.

Once they arrived, Grissom did what he did best. Give orders. He split up the team to cover the largest amount of ground in the quickest time."All right, everyone fan out, look for loose soil, anything that might have been dug up recently."

Teams of people started searching everywhere in the area. Everyone carried flashlights and shovels to search the ground for any signs it had been disturbed.

Catherine held the web cam transmitter detector in her hand, knowing this could be the quickest way of locating the place where Nick was buried. She walked as fast as she could cover ground and still pick up any useful signal. All of a sudden her detector starting making small squawking noises.

"Hey, I'm picking up the web cam transmission."

That's all the team needed to hear to run into action. They started to follow Catherine's voice. The more she walked, the louder the signal got.

While picking up very strong signal, she literally fell over an air pipe, then looked up. The tracker started beeping wildly and Catherine fell to her knees and started digging through the dirt.

She came upon the web cam transmitter.

"This is it. I found it! It's here!" She screamed as loud as she possibly, to alert everyone where they needed to be.

"Nick hang on, Nicky!" She screamed down the air pipe praying that he can hear her. She wanted him to know that help was just minutes away.

Nick had no idea how close he was from being rescued. Not when he was fruitlessly clinging to whatever sanity he had left.

Ripped up pieces of shirt protecting his nose, shreds of his latex gloves plugged his ears. He desperately tried to hang on.

Warrick and other members of the rescue team grabbed their shovels. The whole time Warrick silently repeated to himself over and over in his head.

'One more minute Nicky, one more minute Nicky, we're here, we're here.' The CSI hoped he was convincing himself of that truth as well.

Grissom, Sara, Catherine, and Greg, all stood back and held their flashlights on the ground so the workers could see something. Greg had never felt so useless in his life. All he could do was hold a damn flashlight.

After digging for a couple of minutes Warrick heard a sound he had been dreading for exactly 90 minutes.

His watched beeped, letting everyone know that time was up for Nick. His air had just run out and they were now out of time. He stopped to stare at the blasphemous object for a couple of seconds, then looked up at the team who was staring back up at him. Expressions of defeat crossed their faces for the first time in an hour.

Not yet, no one was giving up yet. But no one knew how close Nick was to succumbing to the end of his will power. Warrick immediately regained his resolve and started to dig faster. He threw dirt every way he could. The criminalist had no idea at the exact same time, his friend just two feet below him, was reaching for his gun.

Nick realized it was over, and decided it was better for a quick death than to slowly suffocate. He looked at it carefully, cocked it, and placed the muzzle squarely under his chin with a shaking hand.

"I hit something!" Warrick cried out, excitement emanating form his voice at the discovery.

He threw his shovel to the side and fell to his knees. Warrick started moving the loose soil on top of the box away quickly with his hands.

After several agonizing moments his efforts revealed a frightened and shaking Nick Stokes; with his gun firmly planted under his chin, his finger ready to pull the trigger.

"Hey, hey! We got you man! Nicky hold on there." Horrified that the weapon was posed to be fired, he shouted." Hey, put that thing down, put that down. We got you! Hang in there!"

Nick finally understood that the sights before him were real. His friends were here finally...his brain could barely comprehend it.

He reached up, out of the box with trembling fingers. Then Nick pounded on the interior of his prison as he sought his escape. If he could touch someone, then he knew things were indeed real. He was cried so hard from the pain of the bites, the stress of the confinement, and struggled with the reality that he wasn't going to die! He could barely see, and was hysterical with tears and fear.

Greg wanted to fall to his knees at his fellow CSI's words. He was filled with relief that they had actually found Nicky in time. The younger man was almost stricken over the thought that in maybe another thirty seconds it would have been too late. Nick was ready to give up, out of air, out of time, and out of hope.

But he didn't ...Nick had held steadfast. Greg was tense with worry; his friend was still trapped in that box. The ex-tech could hear him scream to get out. The frantic man was pounding on the box. It took an enormous amount of patience for Greg to stand there and let the rescue workers do their jobs.

"We need that fire extinguisher. Get that fire extinguisher here now." Warrick belted out to anyone who was listening.

Upon hearing the command, Greg burst into action, finally feeling like he could do something besides stand idly by. He could do something to help end this nightmare. He ran to the truck and undid the extinguisher as fast as he possible could. He arrived back at the glass box in a flash, seeing Nick for the first time.

Greg swallowed the nausea that rose in his throat. He had a job to do finally, kill these damn ants and get them off of Nick before the caused any more damage.

Warrick took his shovel and slowly pried the corners off of the box giving Greg room to get the extinguisher in, while giving Nick some well needed oxygen.

"Short bursts Greg, don't suffocate him, just kill the ants." Grissom directed. Greg had to do this correctly, it would be horrendous if he ended up hurting the criminalist with his efforts.

"Hang on, we're gonna kill those ants, OK?" Warrick tried to comfort his terrified friend, who just wanted out of that damn box.

All of a sudden Catherine came running over, her voice horrified.

"Get out of the hole, it's rigged to blow, the box is ready to explode!" She screamed at them all.

"Are you kidding me?" Warrick couldn't believe what he was hearing.

After everything they had been through to get here. They had finally found Nick, had him in their grasp, and now they were told to back up.

No way. It wasn't going to happen.

"Get out of there now!" Catherine bellowed again, fear in her voice for the whole team again.

"I'm not leaving without Nick!" Warrick declared unwavering.

Catherine tried to explain so Warrick would understand the severity. "There are charges under the box."

Warrick bowed his head in defeat once again. They had been so close. How could they be literally within arms reach, just to be yanked away?

"Warrick, Catherine is right. Get out of there now. I know what we are going to do." Grissom had already formed a plan as soon as he heard about the charges.

Now he only had to calm down his charge long enough to implement the plan.

Warrick looked warily at Grissom, then back down at a Nick who was still screaming for help. His muffled, anguished pleas bellowing from below. The poor man, must have thought his screams were being ignored by deaf ears.

Warrick knew he had no choice but to leave his friend for the moment. He had to work with the team to make sure those charges didn't go off, because he didn't come all of this way to watch his friend get blown up in front of him.

"We need 200 lbs of dirt over here now!" Grissom was once again barking orders again. "And we are gonna use that backhoe to get it." He pointed toward the direction of the object and the rescue workers went into action turning the machine on and getting ready to fill the hole.

Nick could not understand what was going on above him. He knew they were there. He knew they had finally found him and were going to save him. Then everyone started walking away. He started pounding harder and harder and screamed louder for someone to help him.

Where were they going? Why were they leaving him?

Grissom could hear and see the fear and desperation in Nick's actions. The younger man obviously had no clue what was happening and felt abandoned. He climbed on top of the box to try to make Nick understand.

"Nick can you hear me? Its gonna take us a minute to get you out of there." He tried to reassure him.

The hysterical man still thrashed around weakly as he begged for a release.

"Nick."

"Nick," Gil tired again to gain his attention.

His CSI was too wracked in his inner trauma, he was not hearing his command.

"Poncho!.. Listen to me!"

At the use of his childhood nickname, Nick suddenly quieted down and listened to Grissom. Somehow he knew his life lay in this man's hands. Nick tried to remain calm for the older man...to prove his worth one more time.

"Put you hand on my hand." Grissom pleaded and he laid his sprawled hand above Nick.

Nick could see through his glass tomb. He did as he was told and put his hand up against his superior's. He was so close to feeling the contact he had been so desperately seeking.

"Good, Good Nicky. There may be explosives under the box, probably set on pressure switches."

At this latest piece of news, Nick lay his head back down and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. How much was he supposed to endure?

"We need to equalize your body weight before we can pull you out." Gil took a much needed breath. "Okay, Poncho, nod your head if you understand me."

Nick ever so slowly nodded his head, to let his boss know he comprehended what he was being told. Upon seeing this, Grissom stood back up and turned to give the last of the instructions.

"OK we're gonna use the dirt to equalize his weight, I need a rope and a caribiner."

People went to work getting the last of the supplies to pull their team member out of there. They were this close to saving Nick, and this small set back would not stop any of them.

Grissom turned back to the box to speak to Nick one last time.

"All right Poncho, we're gonna open the lid and get you out, but we need you to stay laying down. Or else you're gonna blow us all up. Do you understand that?"

The weak nod was there, but the supervisor had to be sure. "Do you promise?"

Nick gave a subtle nod of understanding.

"Poncho, say I promise." Grissom was hoping to give the young man something to hold on to, bring him back to this reality again.

"I promise." Nick cried out, tears once again flowing freely down his already reddened face.

Catherine started giving directions to the director of the backhoe to come towards the hole where Nick was still trapped.

"Nick, now don't move," Grissom and Warrick slowly pried the lid off the box their ears filled with the soft sounds of their sobbing coworker.

With trembling hands Nick reached out for any human contact he can find. He was barely coherent with an overwhelming desire for comfort.

"I got you." Grissom said to Nick who had clutched his arm.

"Warrick," Nick's hoarse voice croaked out as his other hand reached for his parnter.

Warrick put his hand down on Nick's chest giving him more contact. His partner tried to quiet the traumatized man. "Stay still OK man, just stay still."

"OK OK," Nick tried to take several deep breaths. He had to calm himself down a bit.

The rest of the team members were regulated to observers forced to watch all of this play out. Each of them was ready to pull their friend out as soon as directed. One more step to take before Nick was freed from his glass prison. Greg watched Grissom and Warrick. The younger CSI wished he could help more, but knew that right now, staying back and letting them calm down Nick was the best thing he could do.

"Bring that over here." The backhoe was directed over the hole in the ground, its life saving dirt ready to pour. Grissom attached the caribiner and rope to Nick's belt buckle.

"OK Poncho, I want you to close your eyes and hold your breath... Ready... NOW!"

And with the order, Nick Stokes was covered with 200 lbs of dirt after being trapped for 24 hours underground.

"Ready NOW!" Grissom shouted to his team and they pulled on that rope as if everyone's life depended on it. that effort

Nick was literally brought flying out of the hole as the charges went off. He landed safely away from the explosion. The CSI laid there trembling, too scared to move, until the rescue workers came and got him.

After Nick was loaded into the ambulance, Warrick and Catherine, climbed in behind him and the doors were shut. The ambulance drove away with Nick tucked safely inside, finally freed.

The team stood there watching them pull away, Ecklie, Grissom, Sara, Brass, and Greg all stood silent. They had to allow everything to settle in. They had done it. The team had found Nick.

It was barely in time and he was barely alive, but they had come through. As soon as the ambulance was out of sight, the gravity of the situation hit Greg after holding it together after all this time. He fell to his knees, bringing his hand up to his face and sobbed for his friend.

***

Chapter 2 by: Kristen


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bomb exploded and propelled Nick into the air. He felt the heat sizzle his back for the briefest of moments, till he was slammed into the ground. It was a good thing that there was not more explosives behind the blast, or the CSI would have broken his back from such force.

Nick lay sprawled out on a landscape of rocky soil. His entire body shook from his horrendous ordeal. At first he could not hear anything. His ears still rang from the explosion, but then he felt it.

Human contact.

He was out...no longer trapped. It wasn't a dream or a cruel hallucination. Nick heard the worried voices of his colleagues...his friends. Nick managed to roll over to his side, despite being told to keep still. He'd be damned, if he stayed face down, breathing in dirt.

Dust still filtered down from the air. Dozens of people swarmed the area. Police gathered around in a weird version of a circle. Each officer tried to get a glance at the fellow colleague each of them tried so hard to save. Most of them stood back, giving room to the crime scene investigators that surrounded their coworker. The sounds of an ambulance in the background could be heard. It was the only thing to break the sullen silence that seemed to have descended over the family of CSIs.

Nick's broken and half-croaked cries, drifted throughout the night. Grissom, Catherine, and Warrick encircled him.

Sara, Greg, Ecklie and Brass stayed close.. too stunned...too relived to budge.

Nick trembled uncontrollably. He tried to reach out to someone, and both Grissom and Warrick immediately took his shaking hands. Grissom gently stoked Nick's hair, and wiped away the dead remains of ants that still lingered on his face. The young criminalist was unable to contain his emotions, he cried, tears steamed down his face. His gaze was went back and fourth between the two men who leaned over him. It was like he could not pick either of them to lock eyes with, as he was overcome with anguish.

Warrick never let go of Nick's hand. He leaned over his ear and whispered calming things. "Nick, you're safe man. It's all right, I promise. Shhhh, everything's fine."

Warrick was unable to control how his voice faltered, he sniffed and kept back his own grief for the sake of his best friend.

"Get me a jacket." Grissom ordered. Ever the collected one, the supervisor wanted to help prevent shock.

The supervisor turned around to search for his request. Nick felt the absence of the man, and instantly tried to curl up on himself. Instinctually all he wanted to do was get into a fetal position. The shakes were getting worse and it was as if the criminalist was slipping into the throws of an emotional meltdown.

Warrick saw his friend begin to collapse in on himself. Reacting quickly, he grabbed Nick's shoulders and pulled the other man close to him. Warrick Brown did not care if every eye in the department was on him. He wrapped both arms around Nick and gently hugged him. Warrick allowed himself a long, steady breath.

Nick was alive.

"Its all right, bro." Warrick felt his own face wet with moisture.

Sara went to Gil's side, heavy coat in hand. Grissom took the offered item and covered his shivering CSI with it. Grissom adjusted the garment, so it would not slip off the criminalist. Nick's head was resting against Warrick's chest, and the supervisor saw the CSI stare at him. With great difficulty, Nick held out his other free hand, and Grissom took it in his own.

Catherine came over with a damp cloth that she gathered from on of the search and rescue guys. She gently cleaned away the dirt and grime off of Nick's face.

Nick's sobs quieted and remained somewhat collected till the ambulance pulled up and the EMTs sprang into action.

Warrick moved up further in the ambulance to allow room for Catherine. There had been no arguments about procedures from the EMTs. This was a very special case. Warrick continued to hold Nick's hand as they loaded him in. Nick squeezed back hard, as if the other CSI was a life line. Nick's fingers trembled and his whole body shook. None of it mattered. Warrick held on.

The criminalist became the anchor to humanity for the overly distraught man. Warrick touched Nick's shoulder as he quietly became unglued. The medic began to give Nick oxygen. When the mask was placed over his face, it just seemed to be a natural reaction to fight him.

"Its, okay parnter..let em give you some more air. " Warrick encouraged, when the medic looked over at him for help.

Nick was at risk of hyperventilating, his breathing had been rapid and irregular. He was sweating bullets and his eyes were glassed over in a daze. It was obvious that he was struggling to calm down and relish in his rescue. However, he'd only managed a few shaky, deep breaths, when the panic would begin again.

The medic kept the Forensics' jacket over his patient for a sense of security and to help continue to battle shock. A much needed IV had been inserted in the his right arm. The EMT tried to avoid the angry swelling of ant bites, but that was near impossible. The CSI's vitals were closely monitored as the worried paramedic tried to keep things under control. After instructions from the hospital, the EMT gave Nick a shot of Epinephrine to help combat the poison from the ant bites.

Catherine snaked her hand under the heavy jacket and touched Nick's leg. She hoped the combined contact from her and Warrick would continued to aid and relax her friend. She used her other hand to wipe away the tears that all ready stained her face. Nick was still shaking, his legs lurched as if hit by spasms, while his arms still buzzed uncontrollably despite his best efforts.

The ride was entirely too long. Maybe a dozen cop cars, and other vehicles belonging to the lab raced after it. When Nick was unloaded and rushed into the ER, things became a storm of chaos.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nick's arrival and the particular circumstances surrounding his ordeal had been communicated to the emergency room staff. Rules were broken again as Catherine and Warrick ran alongside the gurney as it was directed to a trauma room.

It was the extreme bright white light overhead that started it. Nick couldn't shield his eyes with all the bustle of actively around him. The quietness of the ambulance ride was now shattered by too much stimuli for a man who had just been shut off from outside sensations for the last twenty-four hours. The safety of his jacket was removed and there were so many damn voices shouting all around him.

Nick tried to keep from loosing it all together. The intensity of the light overhead, just reminded him of that damn bulb that had tortured him by his feet when he was inside that Plexiglas hell. He tried to drape his left arm over his face to block the intrusiveness. Despite his efforts otherwise, it was gently put back along his side. His mind flooded with uncontrolled fear, when Warrick's hand slipped away, and he was left at the mercy of strangers.

His training kicked in, the rational thoughts told him that these people were just trying to help. However, all those nice and neat ordered ideas were not in control of his mind right now. Nick had lost his tenuous connection to all that was real and plunged back into his nightmarish world. Then the panic started all over again.

"N-nnno," he stammered, and weakly lashed out to find his partner.

Warrick tried to grab Nick's hand but was pulled away.

"Let go of me!" He yelled. "He needs me!"

Warrick brushed past angry doctors who were just trying to work on his partner. He glared at the older head physician. "You know the situation here, let me by." He growled.

The ER doc nodded, and Warrick grabbed Nick's flaying hand again, instantly calming him down. "I'm right here, buddy. Not goin' anywhere."

Warrick planted himself right beside Nick as a permanent fixture, whether or not the doctors wanted him there.

The lead trauma doctor knew this was a special matter, but he sighed anyway. The older man looked at his team of residents. "What we got people?"

"BP's 60/40, pulse 140, his sats are 93." One of the nurses rattled off as she replaced the EMTs oxygen mask with one of their own.

Nick concentrated on evening out his breathing, but it was nearly impossible. He still quivered, despite some attempts from the nurses who talked sweetly to him. His skin felt like it was on fire. The pain from the ants had slowly morphed to numbness, but now it felt like his skin was crawling all over again.

He squeezed Warrick's hand harder.

"Let's get these clothes off him, and look at these ant bites." The sympathetic doctor leaned over his patient. "Mr. Stokes, do you have any allergies to insect venom?"

It was so hard for him to focus on the man's question. Nick shook his head no, his throat was too dry, he just couldn't speak. Just the mention of those creepy crawly things caused him to wiggle around. His shirt was being cut away along with his jeans. Nick's exposed and eaten away body felt like it was on view for everyone to gawk at. He closed his eyes. How was he ever going to face any of his coworkers normally again? The Texan turned his head towards his partner, begging him with his eyes to please ignore what he was witnessing. He strained his neck and searched out Catherine as well. A nurse quickly covered him with a sheet, relieving him of just a bit of his anxiety.

Catherine remained huddled in the corner as she tried to stay out of everyone's way. She gasped as her friend's clothes were stripped, a blanket draped around his waist to give him some dignity. His arms were covered with hundreds of swelling bites. There wasn't a patch of skin on his arms that were not swollen.

The rest of Nick's body had been spared somewhat. It seemed that despite his ordeal, his shirt had remained tucked into his jeans. His stomach and chest had bite marks, but it wasn't a sea of irritation like his poor arms. His thighs had been spared somewhat. The little critters had managed to go under his jeans and seemed satisfied at chopping away at his lower legs.

The head physician called over his shoulder. "Lets give him 5 mg of Diazem."

The doctor looked over at the other CSIs. "We're giving him something to help relax him."

The physician looked at a female resident. "Let's give him 20 MG of Deltasone, for the inflammation, 20MG of Diphenhydramine, and 40 MG of Ibuprofen, on board as well."

Nick was injected with a number of drugs to combat the insect venom, as well as anti-inflammatories and pain medication. The sedative hit the CSI's system, and his hand slipped out of Warrick's.

The criminalist stepped back towards Catherine as the nurses started to apply cool compresses to Nick's arms and face. The head physician glared at the investigators and knowing they had dozens of people anxiously waiting a progress report. Both of them left, as the staff continued to tend their friend.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The lobby emptied out a bit. A few hours ago it was littered with police officers, lab people, and criminalists. As much as Conrad Ecklie was proud of the lab's support. It wasn't going to do anyone any good to hang around and clog up Desert Palms. The Director huddled everyone together and thanked them for their efforts. He then kindly asked them to leave after promising them that they would be kept informed of the progress made here tonight.

Ecklie wandered the halls almost adrift and somehow stumbled into the corridor that held the remnants of the old graveyard shift. Sara Sidle spoke in hushed tones with her boss, Gil Grissom. Warrick Brown and Greg Sanders looked entirely too deep in thought. Each criminalists would let their eyes drift over towards a door that was closed shut.

Ecklie felt like an intruder somehow, but he was going to find out how one of his employees was doing. He wasn't the cold-hearted bastard that everyone perceived him to be.

All four CSIs turned around at his approach. They stared at him, as if they were studying his intent.

Grissom walked up to the director and nodded politely. "Conrad."

"How's Stokes?"

Warrick Brown seemed to stiffen at the question. Greg just stared back down at the floor. Sara, who went by her boss's side, seemed to shiver slightly.

Gil regarded the man in front of him somewhat stoically. "He's settled into a room. His doctor is with him right now."

The director looked around. "Where are his parents?"

"They were pretty upset. Nick's father took his mother to her hotel to try to settle her down. They are both very exhausted." Sara replied, her own weariness present in her voice.

Ecklie nodded. "And Catherine?"

Warrick looked at his superior. "They didn't want to further sedate him till he was given another examination. He asked that we leave."

The director looked a bit baffled, as if the explanation didn't quite sink in.

Warrick shook his head frustrated. "He freaked."

The rest of the group seemed to find interesting points on the wall, or the ceiling to study.

The lab director's eyes dropped, his mouth became a thin line.

Warrick folded his arms and leaned his back against the wall. "Cath went back in at his doc's request."

The door opened, and the same physician from earlier appeared. The group of criminalists gathered closer and the doctor smiled wanly. "I don't have to remind you people about hospital policy concerning immediate family. I spoke to his parents earlier after he was admitted, but they gave me permission to speak to all of you."

The doctor cleared his throat, hoping the group would give him a little space. No one really had the energy to move out of the way, so the physician resigned himself to the fact these people were on the end of their rope.

"Mr. Stokes is doing fairly well. He's exhausted and needs rest. A nurse will be in shortly to give him something to help with that. He can't seem to fall asleep without the aid of a sedative, which to be frank, isn't quite surprising."

The doctor took a deep breath, it would seem he had quite a captive audience. "We're replacing his fluids. I want to monitor him for several more days and keep an eye on those bites. The level of toxions will be watched very closely as we contiune to montior any possible damage to his heart."

The doctor watched four worried people, pale a little bit further. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Stokes had an allergic reaction to the insect venom. Normally this takes place after a previous reaction, but his body just couldn't tolerate the sheer amount of bites that it received. We used subcutaneous injections in the trauma room and the rest are being given intravenously.

He's responding well to the medication. With the extent of the bites on his arms especially, I want to make sure they do not get infected."

"That's good. " Greg responded softly.

The doctor looked around. "I had a psych consult done before he was settled. Mr. Stokes is not a danger to himself or to others." The older man gazed around. "Do you have a plan for when he goes home?"

The criminalists were quiet. It is obvious that the overly stressed and exhausted group has not thought that far ahead.

"Well, I suggest that someone stays with him for a while. I'm sure you have your own therapists. Our department head was adamant that he starts seeing one right away."

"Its mandatory." Conrad Ecklie nervously looked around as four sets of eyes stared at him. "We'll make sure he gets all the best care possible." The director amended

The physician stuffed his hands into his pockets. "He also said in Mr. Stokes' current state of mind, that someone should be with him at all times for his first few days at home. I have other rounds to make. Please keep your visits brief, no more than two people at a time."

With that last order, Nick's doctor left his coworkers with many decisions left to be made.

***

Chapter 3 by Kristen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catherine felt the warmth of his fingers, the subtle pulse in his wrist. Nick's eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't sleeping. His breathing was finally a bit more even, but that fluctuated depending on if he started to drift off. Then his breath would hitch in his throat, and his eyes were fly open. He would cry out or start to sob uncontrollably. He's adjust his grip with hers, his hand never left her entwined fingers.

Nick insisted on lying on his side, mumbling something about being on his back for too long. Catherine wanted to gently stoke his arms, but they were wrapped in light, gauze to keep the CSI from scratching at his irritated skin. She thought with all the medications that he was on, that they would certainly have knocked him out. But, Nick was fighting it... Battling the darkness.

The door opened and Warrick entered the room. His usual confident stride was replaced with heavy, downcast, footsteps. He took the chair next to hers. Nick eyes opened at half-mast and followed the movement somewhat unfocused. Then as if his lids were too heavy, they slowly drifted close again.

Warrick adjusted his weight in the chair, causing it to creak. The room was dim; it took them several tries to get the correct amount of light in the room, before Nick was comfortable enough with the level of brightness. Warrick nibbled on his bottom lip and looked over at his boss.

"How's he doin'?" His voice was hushed, as if he might disturb the other man.

Catherine rubbed her thumb along the inside of Nick's palm. "He's in and out." Catherine coughed slightly, as her scratchy voice grated her ears. "He won't say anything. He just starts to shake and I try to calm him as best as I can."

The door swung open again and a nurse with dark black hair entered as stealthily as possible. She nodded at the two people in chairs and took out a syringe and injected something in the criminalists' IV.

"Hummmph...w-what's that?" Nick asked hoarsely, his voice worn away by too much stress.

"Something to help you sleep, dear." The nurse patted Nick's shoulder and exited the room as swiftly as she entered.

Several minutes ticked away in an eerie silence. Warrick rested his elbows on his knees, counting the numbers of lines in the floor. It seemed to be the only thing to take away too many dark images that seemed to fill his mind of the last few hours. He closed his eyes, content to listening to everyone's breathing. His back was tight with tension, and he really wanted a nice hot shower.

After a couple of minutes he felt a hand on his back, then two, as a set of thumbs tug into his taunt muscles. Warrick allowed fingers to dig deep into his shoulders and with an exhale, he lifted his heavy head.

"Nicky's asleep. His hand finally relaxed." Catherine whispered to her partner's unvocalized question.

Warrick looked over at his best friend. Nick's body wasn't tense, the lines around his eyes were not as pronounced. His chest in and exhaled in a normal rhythm for the first time all night.

"We're gonna take shifts staying with him. One day a week, till he's all right." Warrick explained of the plans discussed outside this very room.

Catherine pulled back some of the hair that slipped down her face. "I figured on something to that effect."

"Yeah," was Warrick's strained response.

Catherine kept her hands on her colleague's back and rested her chin on his shoulder. She let her arms drift down, and Warrick captured her hands in his. They remained that way for a long time, till each of them adjusted their seats and waited for morning to approach. Neither had any plans of leaving Nick alone this night.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Four days of his life had been spent at the hospital. It was a whirl winded blur of flowers, cards, and endless streams of well wishers. Most of the time Nick had been in a fuzzy fog of heavy medication and sedation. Tons of staff members from the crime lab had stopped by, but he couldn't recall many faces. His team had been a permanent fixture in his room. He was never left alone except for a few rare instances. His parents had flown back, despite their desire to stay. There was huge trial that could not be pushed back any further.

Now he was home and a part of him really was kind of weary of all the attention. It was an endless internal struggle. His mind was in constant state of flux. Nick had used his skills and training to endure and stay alive. He didn't give in to the temptation of taking the easy way out. Until of course the fan had stopped and he was left with only several minutes of slow agonizing torture. He felt his pulse race at the thought of how close he came to pulling the trigger. Never in his life did he ever imagine that he would put his own gun to his chin. He could still feel the muzzle dig into his throat.

Nick had been told to his face countless times how strong and courageous he was. The words 'will power' were echoed by his friends, and he smiled sheepishly every time. He believed it to some extent. The CSI had been taught well and cherished life as much as anyone.

When he arrived back home, he had developed a plan. Endure...just like every time. If he felt a twinge of fear, just push it back down deep with all his other dark and twisted feelings.

Warrick, Greg, Sara and Grissom were all sitting in different parts of his home. Each one would glance up at him, as if trying to remind themselves that he was actually alive. Then they would dart their eyes to something else and he would feel slightly uncomfortable.

Warrick didn't say much on the car ride over here. It seemed like the art of casual conversation had been lost and Nick was left to stare out the window and relish all his vast surroundings. He refused any help from his friend, even though his movements were slightly sluggish and a bit clumsy. Nick didn't know why, it wasn't like he had been physically injured in any major way.

It seemed that every step took more effort than usual. The box had zapped him of his strength and he felt weak and tired all the time. Nick sat on his sofa, his energy level near fumes, but he fought any urges to go to get some rest. No, that was something he still had a hard time coming to terms with. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest whenever the idea of sleep entered his mind.

Greg and Warrick pretended to watch television. Grissom spent time wandering aimlessly around his townhouse. Gil's eyes took in every detail, as if by scanning the contents of his home, the older man would gain some valuable insight into the person who lived here. The entomologist didn't seem very comfortable in this semi-social setting. Nick didn't blame him.

It didn't matter what each team member was doing to occupy their time. Nick felt their eyes on him as he sipped on a cup of tea that Sara had made him. He didn't own anything herbal. This reminded him to take stock of his groceries. It seemed Sara went shopping for him as a way to take her mind off the events that lead them all to this little gathering.

The object of his thoughts drifted over and Sara quietly settled next to him. "Grissom and I are on in the next hour. I have pizzas in the fridge and made some homemade soup."

Sara spent more time talking at his chest then looking at him in the eyes. Nick got the sinking suspicion that if she did manage to make eye contact with him, then she might falter somehow. This just made him nervous.

"Thanks, Sara," he said softly.

Nick grabbed her hand, until her eyes meet his. "For everything." He rubbed her knuckles softly. His throat tightened. "I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere and I don't plan on it anytime soon."

Sara quickly took him into a quick embrace. She hung her head over his shoulder and let her fingers drift into his hair. Then just as suddenly, she bolted up. "I need to get a head start on some paper work." She said, her clumsy excuse hollow.

Sara didn't even say good-bye to the others and quickly let herself out.

Nick sat dumbly on his couch. The Texan stared down at his hands and studied the pink and agitated flesh. He resisted the urge to scratch the fiery skin. Nick could still feel tiny little legs make their way up his legs and chest. It was even harder with his arms. Hundreds of bites burned warmly underneath the ointment and gauze. Nick studied his limbs and relished a tiny victory. His hands were still and motionless for once.

He was in control right now, no one else. Nick felt one of his prescription bottles in his Jean's pocket. He fished it out to read the label. He had several medicines to battle infection and inflammation from the fire ants.

This one was different. He fiddled with the smooth brown plastic as he stared at the instructions. It was some kind of anti-anxiety medication. He was supposed to take this twice a day for the first week home. If that wasn't enough, he also had sleeping pills and even an anti depressant. Nick thumbed the cap, causing a slight clicking noise.

Nick had seen what these types of medications did to you. They dulled the senses and made you groggy. He wasn't about to lose control or let his guard down again. If he had been more aware of his surroundings at that trash dump, maybe he would have overpowered his attacker and saved everyone a ton of grief. Or maybe it wouldn't have happened at all. He chastised himself.

He gritted his teeth and pocketed the meds. He didn't want to take them. They weren't needed.

He glanced up to see his friends look his way with concern. Nick didn't know how long he had been lost in thought.

"I'm fine guys. None of you have to worry about me freaking out anymore." He calmly explained to them.

Nick smiled. He was out of the box. There wasn't any reason to dwell on it anymore.

Grissom was next to walk over to him. Nick wasn't sure what to expect. The supervisor went over to his kitchen counter and picked up a brown paper bag. "There are some herbs in here that will help with the itching and inflammation."

Gil handed Nick a jar that filled with what looked like spices and dead leaves. The criminalist furrowed his brow. "I'm supposed to eat these?"

Grissom looked at him quzzingly, and shook his head sadly. "No, Nick. You use these in a warm bath. It'll soothe your skin."

Nick blushed slightly when he saw Warrick and Greg glance over. "Uh, Grissom, I don't take...ah ...baths."

Grissom fixed the CSI with had to be the teacher to pupil expression. "In this case, I'd make an exception."

"Use it with Mr. Bubble." Greg said in a teasing way to lighten the mood.

Nick fixed the spiky haired CSI with a 'I'll kill you' stare. The younger man quickly went back to watching the basketball game on TV. Warrick just snorted, it was the first time Nick had seen the solemn man out of his melancholy mood.

Nick studied the mason jar. "Thanks. I'll try anything at this point. "

Nick knew this was the entomologist's way of showing he cared. Grissom gave him what was the closest approximate of a smile.

The grave shift supervisor left as well, leaving Nick with two last houseguests. The criminalist went back to his sofa. He watched his two best friends. Greg was glued to the TV and actually seemed interested in the semi finals going on. On the other hand, Warrick looked dead on his feet. His partner was falling asleep in the chair.

Nick wandered over and peered down on the other man. "Why don't you go home bro? I don't have any sleeping bags that'll you can fit in." Nick chuckled.

Warrick rubbed his hands though his short cropped dreads. He gazed at his friend as if he was trying to determine if it was safe to let him out of his sight. Nick seemed more collected after four days of drug-induced rest. The CSI was hesitant, but Greg was going to stay tonight. Warrick had spent practically the last few days at Nick's bedside and he really needed real sleep.

Greg got out of his chair and started shooing the other man out. Warrick gathered his wits about him and headed home. He strode past Nick and tapped his shoulder. "Call me if ya need anything."

Nick smiled. "Sure thing. But I think Greggo and I will be fine."

Nick knew better then to argue about his over night guest. Warrick had told him in uncertain terms he would have people over for a while. Nick knew there was no way his partner would leave if the former lab tech weren't allowed to stay.

Greg walked the other CSI to the door. Catherine had gone home to be with her daughter. She still had lab duties to juggle after spending time at the hospital as well. Warrick dragged himself out the door. He headed home hoping he would not be plagued by horrific nightmares about his best friend suffocating.

Warrick looked over his shoulder at Greg Sanders. He didn't speak. No words were required. Warrick told the younger man with his eyes that he'd better take care of Nick. Greg stood up straighter. His expression was clear. He would make sure their friend was all right his first night home.

***

Chapter 4 by Shacky

Greg turned to look at his charge for the night, who was presently sitting on the couch solemnly. He closed and locked the door after seeing Warrick take off. Greg walked back towards the living room. Something had grabbed Nick's attention again, and he was completely engrossed in it. Greg saw this time what it was, a small brown medication bottle.
Nick realized he had been caught again for a second time in less than fifteen minutes. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, he decided that honestly this time, would be the best policy. He couldn't hide it anymore.

"I just don't think I can take these, man. I know what they can do to you, and I can't feel out of control of the situation. I just cannot do that to myself." Nick desperately hoped his friend would get it and not press the issue too much. He wasn't up for a fight already.

"It's OK, I can understand that Nick, they really can make you groggy. Let's just wait on these for now. They'll be there later if you think you need them to sleep or relax later. All right?"

Greg removed the bottle from Nick's hands, out of sight out of mind he was taught. The ex-tech placed the bottle along Nick's kitchen counter with the rest of the medications. Jesus, there were so many. Greg shook his head. There were pills for everything: anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, medications to help him sleep, antidepressants just in case just in case all the other pills weren't doing the job, and now anti-anxiety pills completed the set. No wonder Nick didn't want to take anything else and feel more drugged up and out of control.

"Hey, can I get you anything while I'm out here?" Greg yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I could use some tea."

"Do you want the hot stuff or the cold stuff?" Greg wasn't sure which he preferred right now.

"Iced please boss, although it was a nice thought. I'm not a hot tea kind of guy, ya know? Despite what Sara tried to hand off to me."

"Hey, no need to explain yourself to me," Greg said as he sat down a glass of iced tea for each of them. "Some things about me have changed, but I still drink enough coffee for the entire department." Greg always restocked the coffee stash, since he was responsible for consuming the most.

Nick laughed at that thought, how could he forget about Greg's coffee fixes? He hadn't seen much of the newest CSI since that damn shift split.

"Speaking of things changing. What in the world did you do with all of your old crazy shirts, man? Don't tell me they are ALL gone."

He looked over at Greg still milling around in the kitchen. Even though was off for the next couple of days still had on a plain old button down blue shirt, which covered up a plain old T-shirt, blue jeans and his black dress shoes.

"What is this man, a conspiracy? First Hodges, now you. What is this world coming to?" He waved his hand dismissvely at the perplexed look Nick gave him.

"Forget it, don't ask. Hodges tried to talk to me about fashion sense and style. Don't worry; I still have every one of those loud obnoxious shirts, thank you very much. I do still get to go out on rare occasions and need something fashionable to dress in. I'm just going for the more professional look now." Greg said, smugly.

"Well, it's just you know, it takes some time getting used to the new you. The old Greg was so, so not like this." Nick hoped his point came across without making his friend feel bad.

"Hey, the old me is still under here so you and Hodges can stop your worrying about it. The other Greg, well let's just say he's keeping a lower profile now." He turned his head to look back at Nick, who actually grinned at him, which was a great sight to see, even if it was at his fashion expense.

"Anyway, it's about time I think you got something to eat. What sounds good to you? Probably anything after hospital food for four days." Greg understood he had to get his friend to eat something with that medication, and he wanted to make it was as tempting as possible.

"Yeah, I could go for a little something." But the thought behind the words didn't even sound believable to him.

"Well, OK, let's try this again, but with a little more enthusiasm. Hey Nick, are you hungry for anything bud, come on, my treat. Even on my meager CSI salary now."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know, pay cut. I probably don't want to know what you made before your 'promotion' do I?" Nick asked jokingly.

Greg just looked at him and shook his head. "No, you don't, and you're stalling. Food, now." He pressed the subject one more time.

"Ok, Ok, let's see here, I think I could go for some Chinese. I think. Something simple though, just some fried rice or something." He figured the compromise was good since he wasn't too hungry, but knew there wasn't any getting out of it completely.

"See, now that wasn't too hard, now was it? Be right back after I make that phone call." Greg called in their dinner.

An hour later, after several empty cartons of chicken fried rice and sweet and sour pork boxes, and the now finished basketball game. Nick was lay there half asleep on the couch. The sight made Greg feel at ease, on the inside, for the time being.

"Not bad for breakfast." Greg deadpanned. "This is usually my waking hour, but my body has no internal clock anymore. How's swing going? I don't get to talk to you too much anymore."

"Yeah I know man. It's still difficult getting used to. I mean after seven years of getting up when the sun's going down, it's damn hard to sleep when it's dark."

He wasn't being sarcastic. After he would get home, unless he pulled a double, Nick would usually sit up until at least 4 or 5 in the morning completely out of habit.

"Well, night shift sure isn't the same without you, Warrick, and Cath. It's kind of quiet. Sara and Sophia aren't ones for goofing around too much. No one to play video games with in the break room anymore." That was one thing Greg really missed about his friend not being there, just his companionship.

"Yeah, I miss those nights too, but have to go by Commander Ecklie's rules now unfortunately."

Nick stifled a yawn, as he realized he couldn't keep his need for sleep at bay any longer. "Hey man, I'm gonna head on to bed."

"Okay man, get some rest. I know where everything I need is already, so don't worry about me. If you need anything, I'm right here." Greg said gently, as he gave Nick a soft pat on the shoulder.

"Sure thing boss, I'll be fine, and... uh, thanks for staying with me... I really didn't want to be alone." Nick was afraid to admit it, but he was thankful his friend was here.

"No problem. Oh, and one more thing, are you sure you don't want that bubble bath Nicky?" Greg shouted over his shoulder at the retreating man.

"Ha Ha Ha, real funny lab boy!" Nick went down the hall towards his linen closet.

"Just trying to help."

"Ugh! Hey!" Greg felt the dull thud of something hit him in the back of the head. Ah, his blanket for the night, then another soft object hit his head, yep, his pillow.

"Kidding man, just kidding," Greg couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Nick's face.

"Yeah remember that, next time it will be that spare bowling ball I keep under my bed." Nick played back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nick went into his bathroom. God it felt good to be home, his own stuff, his place, and his personal space back. There were so many moments he thought he would never be standing here brushing his own teeth. He finished getting washed up and went into his bedroom.
The CSI took off his sweat pants and changed T-shirts. His neck and arms itched. Hell, every part of his flesh was so agitated, but he wasn't going to think about that. Nick turned off his light, closed the door and crawled into his own bed. It was a pure joy to have some privacy. It was his first time being alone. Nick shook his head. He was NOT going to think about the last time he was alone. He sighed, now was not the time to go down that road, he chastised himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greg knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for several hours, and that was if he was lucky. It was only 10 o'clock. He was usually just getting ready for work at this hour. Everything had been so screwed up since that damn package come in. Twenty-four straight hours they spent searching for Nick. Then four more days back and forth from the hospital and Lab. He should be dead tired. But in reality, he was so wound up he could barely sit still, the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. They found Nick alive. Greg wouldn't allow himself to think about what almost happened.
It didn't matter. All the what ifs and perhaps... were irrelevant now. Here he was sitting on Nick's couch about to settle in for the night while he took care of his friend. Yeah, life was pretty good at the moment as he sat there channel surfing.


------------------------------------------------------------
Dark.

His room was so dark.

Nick never realized it before.

Quiet, it was really, really quiet.

Wasn't there usually more noise then this?

After sleeping during the day and working nights for so many years, he still hadn't gotten used to the stillness of the evening. Where was Greg and why was he making so little noise? He was sure the younger man was still out there. He wouldn't have left him alone, would he? Nick knew he had been in here close to an hour, but no matter how exhausted he felt, sleep did not come for him.

Relax he told himself, take deep breaths, in and out just like the doctor showed you when he explained how to release tension. Where was his gun? Maybe he would feel better if he had his gun. Nick took it out of the drawer where he kept it and set it where he could see it on his nightstand.

Yeah, that made him feel better now. He grabbed it and turned the safety off as he set it down within arms reach. Now if he could just stop this damn anxiety.

Why the hell was he shaking like this? What the hell was this coming from?

It started ever so slightly. His hands trembled, at first. Then he switched to lying on his side. Being flat on his back, had started it perhaps. But, then the slight movements started to affect his arms, and then his whole body shook.

His room was pitch black. No color, just darkness. It used to comfort him, lull him to sleep. Now it was eerie. He closed his eyes despite the increased beating of his heart. The slight constriction in his throat.

He squeezed his eyelids tight then covered them with his hand.

It didn't help, he felt the fear. The bed, the outlines of the mattress around his body. It was unnerving.

He raised his hands in the air to make sure there wasn't a lid above him. It should have dampened the paranoia, but instead it just increased it. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. Nick opened his eyelids into mere slits.

There it was...a bright white light. In his room...shining right in his eyes.

He shot it out, he knew he had. Nick remembered that well.

The sickly sweet gum. His ears still felt sticky on the inside. It took forever to get them clean again.

Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was lack of sleep. Perhaps it was some odd side effects of his meds, but Nick would never know.

However, nothing changed the fact what that the light represented.

Pain and torture. He was under a microscope, and it was back in his underground hell. Nick grabbed his gun. He could do it again, shoot the damn thing out if he had to.

What the hell, OW!

Something was crawling up his legs, biting him. No! He wasn't sure if he actually screamed this time or if he was yelling inside his own head. There it was again, something was sneaking up his arms now and he kept brushing away phantom ants from his body. That light was still on. Damn it!

He shot it out...didn't he?

Who the hell kept turning the God forsaken light back on? He aimed his gun towards the light again, as the biting started once more.

"Turn off the damned light! Can't you see me?"

Nothing. No response.

" I'll blow it out again, I swear to God I'll do it. Don't think I won't !" Nick screamed at the phantom kidnapper who was peering at him through the bright light. He made his point by aiming unsteadily towards the window.

------------

One hour had passed and Greg had found some classic movie slasher flick on Sci-Fi. He thought he would be sick of this stuff with his line of work, but movies where a different story. He got comfy in his T-shirt and boxers not too long after Nick went on to bed, and it was still only 11o'clock. His night was just beginning he thought to himself, as he took another drink from his coke.
"Damn this is gonna be a long night if I don't catch some sleep." He said to the empty room.

Greg hadn't even finished the thought when he heard shouting coming from Nick's bedroom. It wasn't just the screaming that sent him running. It was the tone: the fear and utter desperation dripping form Nick voice.

Greg was in Nick's room in a flash. When he got there, the sight before him chilled him to his core. No training had prepared him for a situation like this, or could it have. Nick was laying there in the dark, his right arm pointing his gun out the window, while his left was busy brushing away phantom fire ants off of his body.

The last thing he wanted was to spook his friend, but he needed to bring him back form whatever horrible nightmare and flashback he was trapped in. The younger man stared at the shaking gun pointed in one direction. He knew full well that Nick wouldn't think twice about firing it at anything that frightened him, as his body thrashed about the bed.

'My God, what did you go through Nicky?' Greg thought to himself.

The younger man knew he needed to reach his friend somehow, and bring him out of the place he was ensnared in.

He slowly opened the door further as quietly as possible. The last thing he wanted was that gun pointed at him.

"Nick... Nicky?" he said very softly and as calm as he could in this type of situation.

"Nick, it's Greg, remember me? I'm here with you Nick, you aren't alone." He hoped the soothing tone would reach inside the CSI's nightmare.

"You're not there Nicky, you're home. I'm here with you this time, you are NOT alone Nick, I'm here."

"Greg, make it stop, make it stop, turn that damn light off please!" Nick half begged.

It made his heart break at the sound of his friends fear.

"Nick, you trust me right? You know I'm not gonna let anything happen to you while I'm here." Greg could see Nick shake his head slowly up and down in the darkness.

"Good Nick, then I need you to do something for me. I need you to trust me and close your eyes, can you do that for me?" Greg prayed he was getting through to his friend.

"I don't know.." Nick's voice wavered, still trapped by his fear.

"I know your scared Nick, but if you trust me, I can make it all go away. I promise, all right? Now just please close your eyes real tight for me." Greg pleaded to his frightened friend.

He could see him frantically nodding his head again though the dark.

"Good Nicky, Ok I'm gonna turn on your light on and it will all be gone, all right. Ready, one, two, three." With that Greg flipped the light.

The room filled back up with solid images of his bed, dresser, and closet. The nightstand came back into view, as well as his window.

"See Nicky, it's OK, you can open your eyes now. See, look, you're in your own room Nick, it's safe here." Greg tried to reason with him, hoping it would dawn on the other CSI where he was.

The grief stricken man slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times as the safety of his bedroom slowly came into focus.

"Greg?" He looked at him panicked. "Oh Greg, God, I'm so, I'm so sorry, I didn't . . . . I mean... Oh God, did I? ...What did I . . ." he tried to continue, but couldn't find the words.

Greg stepped in and helped. "Hey man, it's all right. Flashback aren't uncommon, just do me a favor please and give me your gun."

The Texan almost seemed surprised to be holding his loaded weapon, ready to fire it.

"Oh Jesus Greg, what was I . . What am I doing?"

He turned the gun around butt end first and handed it to his friend. Greg snatched it quickly, snapping the safety switch back in the on position, and set it atop of Nick's dresser.

Well, Thank God that part was over Greg thought to himself.

"Hey dude, it's all right." He sat down next to Nick on his bed and gently put his arm around his back, trying to console him.

"These things are gonna happen. You went through hell, and you can't expect to come back unscathed from it all. I can't tell you how many nights I woke up swearing I was covered in glass and smelled my own burning skin." That wasn't a lie to make him feel better.

"Yeah, but I wasn't sleeping I couldn't get to sleep. Too dark, too quiet." He was tried to explain behind a shaky voice.

"Then I saw a light, or...uh..imagined one and, I was right back there. It was just like that damn bright light, and, and I . . I grabbed my gun, and then I was pointing it and. . . I don't remember Greg, I don't remember." Nick rubbed his face wearily with his hands, truly terrified at what he almost did.

Greg once again laid his hands on Nick's shoulder to let him know he was there. Then he had an idea.

"OK, that's it, you're coming with me." With that Greg grabbed Nick's pillows and blankets off of the bed.

"Dude, we're having a sleepover." Greg walked out leaving a very confused Nick Stokes in his wake.

The Texan followed Greg out into the living room, where he had carried armloads of blankets and pillows back towards his original location.

"Uh bossman, a sleepover?" Nick questioned him.

"Yeah, remember sleepovers? Staying up late, well scratch that since we do that every night now. You know, play games, eat too much junk food, play more video games. You do have junk food in this house don't you?" Greg asked as he stalked off towards the kitchen, he was a man on a mission.

"Tell girl stories, play some more until your eyes bug out, paint our toenails and do each other's hair."

At the perplexed look he got from Nick he laughed out loud. "Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention." Greg shouted back over his shoulder from the kitchen as he searched for something they could munch on.

"What, no chips, no dip, no cheetos, no chocolate. Oh salsa, that's original." For the second time that night he felt something smack the back of his head.

"Some of us just eat healthier than other." Nick teased back.

"There's healthy, then there's down right boring, and you my friend are no Mr. Excitement."

"Well, I think there' some ice cream in the freezer, if it meets your high standards." Nick could feel the glare Greg gave him across the room.

"I knew you'd have something, now go set up your PS2, cause I'm so going to kick your ass at Madden 2005. Please tell me you don't use Randy Moss anymore, he is such a loser."

Nick went back in his living room and hooked up the game. He felt much better already being back out here, with noise, the lights, and the company.

"Yeah, like Mr. Atlanta Falcons should talk. What did happen to them, oh that's right, nothing. No, I go with Peyton Manning now." Nick was loosening up by the minute, he could feel it is his muscles.

"Well, at least that's an improvement, and I'm so going to beat all over you if it follows reality at all, cause I have two, no make that three words for you.

"New England Patriots." Greg yelled back over his shoulder as he inspected Nick's freezer, once again disgusted with the contents.

"What, are you a communist or something? Vanilla and chocolate, you really now how to walk on the wild side there, Nicky."

"I think there's more back there if you just look, and what's wrong with vanilla and chocolate, there's classics and I like them." Nick defended his ice cream choices to the younger man.

"Nothing's wrong with it, it's just so you. ...Ah Ha! That's more like it, it's no Chunky Monkey, but it'll work, mint chocolate chip. Wow, really must have been a special night there huh?" Greg joked, as he grabbed the carton and two spoons.

The ex-tech sauntered back into the living room and plunked down by Nick who had the game ready to go. He held out his hand and gave Nick his spoon and two small pills.

"I know you don't want to take them, and I understand, but you need to relax and get some rest, some real rest. Nothing, and I repeat nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here, I promise you that my friend." Greg said this as seriously as if he were presenting evidence to Grissom.

"Thanks man," the CSI swallowed, "for everything." Nick knew he needed to give in and get some rest. With someone here, he truly felt safe, so he swallowed the sleeping pill and one of his anti-anxiety meds with a swig of coke. "You Uh, ...really helped me out back there, and um, ...I don't know what would have happened if,... if . . ."

"Hey don't. That's what friends are for. Not let's get at it."

Two hours later, and a half a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and getting his butt utterly whipped 45-21, Greg was beyond humiliated.

"Are you sure you don't want to do my hair, I mean it isn't too late to change your mind. See, it's longer now, come one, you know you want to." Greg tried his best to distract his friend, even resorting to batting his eyelashes.

"Take defeat like a man G, you got you ass handed to you by the Colts" Nick yawned. "Speaking of, what's with the flat look anyway man?"

"Oh, you know me, something different. Trying out a new style. What do you think?" Greg seriously wanted to older man's opinion.

"Honestly, man." Nick yawned again leaning back against his pillow which was spread out across the floor along with his blankets. "I kind of miss the spikes, you know, the finger in the socket style I liked to call it." Nick's eyes started to close involuntarily. "I liked that it was just so you, set you apart, like your personality. Don't let this CSI stuff change who you are too much man, the old Greg was fun."

That thought make the young CSI smile for some reason, he didn't really like it either, but thought it looked more professional, well as professional as he wanted to get.

"Thanks Nick, I'll keep that in mind."

Nick's eyes shot back open for a moment and he grabbed Greg's shoulder.

"Thanks again, G. I...I mean...I don't know what would have happened." Nick stopped mid thought. He wasn't the type of guy to talk about his problems, this was very hard. "I'm glad you're here."

With those final words Nick's eyes drifted shut one last time. "And I so kicked your ass lab boy." Nick grinned as he drifted off.

Nick's breathing evened out and he actually looked peaceful this time. Greg knew the combination of the medications would help him get a good nights sleep and hopefully keep the dreams at away for the night.

Greg went over and covered up his friend, but kept his arms out because he knew if they got to hot, they might start to itch.

"Sleep well my friend, you're safe now, I won't let anything happen to you tonight, I promise. Good night Nicky."

Greg quietly picked up their mess, and shut off the TV. He went over and grabbed his pillow and blanket to settle himself onto the couch where he could still keep a watchful eye on his charge just in case he was plagued by dreams. He wanted to remain close by. He reached up to turn off the lamp by the couch, and just as his fingers touched the switch, he thought better of it. They would both probably sleep better with the light on tonight. Greg laid his head on his pillow, and quickly followed his friend to sleep.

***

Chapter 5 by Shacky20


Greg woke up promptly at 8AM the next morning. He grinned when he heard Nick was still snoring away on the floor. At least he was getting some good rest Greg thought and felt relieved. He quickly got up and put his plan into motion calling Catherine. When the supervisor heard his idea, she was more than willing to do her small part to help put it in action.
After a quick shower, he didn't want Nick to wake up alone, he hopped back into the kitchen. He tried to scrounge something up for a quick breakfast before their little adventure, when he heard the soft knock on the door.

Greg walked over and opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb his sleeping man, who was sprawled out on the floor.

"Hey Catherine, thanks for pulling this together on such short notice."

"No problem Greg, anything I can do to help, ...uh... why is Nick sleeping on the floor out there?" Catherine gave Greg a questioning look, but Greg thought he would keep their late night incident to themselves.

"Oh Nick, was having a hard time relaxing in his bed so we had a sleepover and played games until he finally just conked out. He looks so relaxed out here I dared not try to wake him or move him."

"He does look a little better, how was the first night home?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"Um, it went good. I got him to eat some dinner, then we played some PS2 until he finally fell asleep. I felt better where I could see him." Greg was being half truthful, because he could rest better when he could see Nick, but Catherine didn't need to know Nick was afraid to be alone in his room. That would stay between the two friends.

"So, what are these big plans for the day with this?" Catherine asked, as she handed over the special order Greg put in an hour ago.

"I thought that it might do Nick some good to get out of here for a couple of hours today, if he feels up to it. I thought we'd drive up to Lake Mead, take in some fresh air, open space, have a picnic lunch. Thanks so much for bringing this stuff over. I really didn't want to leave him alone." Greg said, as he looked back over at his friend.

"That's understandable, and anything else I can do to help, you let me know. Oh, and I put in a bottle of bug spray since you guys will be outside. Nothing to spray directly on Nick, that could aggravate the skin, but something to put around the ground and the blanket. It supposedly blocks anything from getting in."

"Thanks Cath, I never even thought about that for some reason. Gosh, why didn't I?" He chastised himself.

"Hey Greg, don't worry about it, it's not something we usually think about, but I figured better safe than sorry now."

"Thanks again, and Warrick's coming over tonight to stay with him, he really needed to get some rest, he looked beat." Greg said, fishing for a little info on his other friend.

"Yeah, he was pretty tired after all those days at the hospital, thanks for staying with Nick last night. I don't think Warrick was up to it yet."

"Hey, I'm his friend too, and I want to help, so anything I can do, just let me know, okay?" Greg walked over and gave Catherine a quick hug.

"He's good, we're all good. Now we just need to get Nick all healed up and help him now."

"I know, doesn't make it any easier knowing when almost. . ." then Catherine stopped herself, knowing this was exactly the point Greg was getting across to her.

"I need to get home. You two have a good time today, but don't let him overdue it." Catherine still handed out the orders like the supervisor she was.

"Yes Mom, and I'll have him home before bedtime." Greg teased back and Catherine smiled that grin that Greg hadn't seen since before this whole nightmare started.

"Have a safe drive and I'll see you two soon. Bye." She gave Greg a quick kiss on the cheek and was gone just as quickly as she came.

Just as the door shut Greg heard grumbling coming from the floor where Nick was starting to wake up.

"Was that Catherine I just heard?" Nick asked through a sleep thick voice.

"Yeah, I asked her to drop something off for me. How did you sleep?"

"Well, I feel better. Like I actually got some rest if that's what you mean. I must admit those pills did help." Nick really hated giving into that fact, but it was true.

"Just remember they're only temporary, so what do you want for breakfast? How does some scrambled eggs and toast sound? Then I have a special surprise for you."

Greg was beaming, so Nick knew he had something planned. "Sounds pretty good. Are you gonna tell me the second half of the or do I have to guess?"

"Oh I'll tell you after you shower, go on, I'll make breakfast, and not one joke about my cooking abilities mister or no butter on your toast. So go clean up, and it'll be ready when you get back." Greg quickly put the basket full of sandwiches and pop in the refrigerator to keep them chilled until they left.

"Ok, give me ten and I'll be back." Nick got up a bit unsteady at first and shuffled his way towards the bathroom and his shower.

When Nick came back to the kitchen he could smell his breakfast cooking.

"Do I still need to guess or are you going to tell me what Catherine was doing here?" Nick questioned.

Greg looked up at Nick, and handed him his medication for the morning to take with his breakfast.

"No back talk about the medicine, just the essentials this morning." Nick looked at he pills with only mild distain but picked them up and took them anyway.

"I just thought you might like to get out of the house for awhile today. Nothing too stressful, just a little drive, a little water, a picnic lunch, how does that sound?" Greg asked, hoping his gesture wouldn't be for not.

"Really? Where to man?" Nick's curiosity was definitely piqued now.

Greg braced himself against the kitchen counter and looked up with a serious expression.

"There's this little spot up at Lake Mead I used go to and sometimes still do when I want to get outta my head. Remember what's good with the world, or just kind of think, you know? I uh ...I used to go there quite a bit after the, you know, after the explosion. I uh ...didn't know if I would ever be able to come back. I used to drive up there and just think and sit. I'd stare at the water, and sometimes it really helped. I though maybe I could take you up there today and just kind of relax. We could get some fresh air."

Nick just looked up at him, a little stunned for a moment. Greg never ever talked about the time after the explosion and he had no idea Greg thought about never coming back. The place where Greg Sanders went to clear his head must be a special place.

"That sounds like a great idea G, I think I could use a little fresh air."

"Great." Greg looked up genuinely surprised and happy at Nick's agreement to go. "Great man, I had Catherine drop by some sandwiches and soda and stuff in case you said yes. So whenever we get done hear with breakfast and cleaned up, we can head on out of here." Greg seemed enthused about their adventure.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later after the dishes were picked up and put away, the SUV was packed up with a few things they might need. The two were on there way for a day of sun and relaxation.
Greg drove and headed South on Highway 582 towards Henderson, and then turned East onto Highway 564. Within an hour, they were pulling into Greg's spot, right around the Las Vegas Bay Area of the Lake. It was on the Western

Side of the Lake, not too far from Vegas itself. Nick had to admit that Greg had found quite a beautiful peaceful spot. Away from most of the tourists and boats, and people in general. Plus it had a spectacular view of the Lake, as far as the eye could see was blue water, and Nick breathed in the fresh air like his life depended on it.

"Go ahead and find a spot to sit," Greg yelled over to Nick. "Just let me grab these couple things, and I'll be right over."

The young CSI grabbed a blanket for them to sit on, the picnic basket that Cath had packed and the cooler for their drinks. Then he went to join his friend under a nice shade tree he had picked out that stared out right over the water.He brought over the bottle of bug spray and held it up and started spraying around the blanket. At the strange look from Nick, Greg tried to explain.

"Hey, better safe than sorry, man. I don't even want a knat coming within 25 feet of you. Speaking of, did you grab that epi-pen the doctor gave you just in case?" Greg forgot to check before they left the house to see if Nick had grabbed it. Like he said, he didn't want to take any chances at all with being outside.

"Yes Dad, it's right here." Nick grabbed it out of his pants pocket and showed Greg, who was giving him his best insulted look.

"Just trying to look out for you man, can't be too careful right now." He was serious though, he didn't want to think what another bug bite of any kind could do to Nick right now.

Greg grabbed a bottle of iced tea and handed one to Nick and then grabbed one for himself.

"I thought it might be a good idea to get out in the open for awhile. I used to come out here quite a bit, after, uh, you know, "BANG'!" Greg made a wild gesture with his hands, even to this day he didn't like to use the word explosion.

"You know I almost didn't come back to the lab." Greg said quietly, admitting a secret he hadn't shared with anyone before.

"No, G, I didn't know that. Did you tell anyone else?"

"No, I had to think it out for myself I decided. I was so scared, I mean literally scared to be in the lab for a while. I always doubled checked everything for the longest time. I began to second-guess everything I was doing in the lab, my ability to do my job, my ability to be part of the team. " Greg was speaking from the heart, and Nick understood that he was trying to get something across to him.

"But then I would come out here, and if I got off work at just the right time. I could get here just right when the sun would come up over the water. I loved my job, I loved what I did, and I loved working with you all. I realized that there was no way I couldn't come back, because that wasn't me. I wasn't going to be scared off by an accident." The memories took him back to a place that Greg didn't like being, but he thought it would help Nick understand he wasn't alone.

"You know Greg, I never knew you didn't consider coming back. I'm glad you decided to stay, it wouldn't have been the same without you." Nick was sincere, it was like watching his little brother graduate from college.

"Well of course it wouldn't have, I'm the life of every party." Greg laughed.

"Of course, how could I ever forget that." The smile on Nick's face felt good.

"Then sometimes when it got hard, when I thought maybe I made the wrong decision. I would come back out here. The time I failed my first proficiency I came out here and spent hours just thinking "What the hell have I done? Why did I think I could ever leave my 'Lab'?"

"You should be proud Greggo, you made it happen, all by yourself. You're a real CSI now, and still a hell of a Lab Tech. That's a lethal combination in a courtroom."

Greg chuckled at that comment, he had been told that several times. "I just hope that you don't let what happened to you destroy you like it almost did me. We were so scared Nick, I don't think you understand that part, you couldn't. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you, and if you need to talk." He grinned and handed his friend a sandwich.

Nick grabbed the sandwich, although he wasn't real hungry. He looked over at his friend and thought maybe he was right.

"Greg, I can't tell you how many times I thought ..."

Nick visibility shuddered at the memories and couldn't bring himself to contiune. Not yet.

Greg thought that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."Hey, we don't have to talk about it. Just know if you need to, or when you are ready, you have lots of people ready and willing to listen. You will probably be sick of us all by within the next couple of weeks."

"I really don't think so," Nick grudgingly admitted. " I don't want to be alone... doesn't that sounds crazy?" Nick looked away for a second, but forced himself to continue. "I need to be reminded I'm not alone, and I like hearing the noise, voices..."

Nick's voice grew quieter. This was difficult and his old habits of bottling everything up kicked back in.

"You won't have to worry about that." Greg knew everyone had their shift with Nick until he kicked them out. They figured he would know when he was ready for his privacy back.

Nick sat on the ground, and allowed his lungs to fill with fresh, crisp air. He never knew if he'd feel this alive again after his whole ordeal and even though he sensed that Greg needed to talk about things, he just wasn't up for it. Everything was too ...fresh and raw.

Talking, people always thought discussing things were a way to heal wounds...it just was never his way. Move on. He wanted to forget, and re-hashing his experiences inside the box wasn't going to help him now. If he just concentrated hard enough, then he would start to salvage parts of his personality back. He looked over at Greg and knew the kid needed this as much as he did. He smiled slightly, the younger man was really trying.

"I made it out Greg. Everything's going to be fine. I mean, look? I'm out at the Lake sharing a sandwich with you and I'm going to heal, it will just take a while." Nick knew he wouldn't heal overnight, but he was feeling a better that he was out of the hospital and with his friends again.

The Texan swallowed, it still seemed like his friend had some reservations. Of course freaking out last night was bound to give the kid doubts. "I'm sorry about last night. It's...well, I just kept seeing that damn light in the darkness. It was so freakin' bright, and it was so stifling in there...I...just... ..couldn't stand it being on all the time."

Nick took a shaky breath. He wouldn't share any more. All it did was rattle him. He just hoped that little bit of information would let Greg feel a bit better about things.

"I'm so sorry we kept that light on so long, if we had any idea what it was doing to you, we wouldn't have, but we just had to ..."

"Wait, what are you talking about? How did you know about that light?"

Nick's tone was troubled and his body had visibility tightened up, and up that point Greg realized he had opened his mouth once again without thinking.

"I, I'm sorry Nick, I thought you knew. I was sure someone had told you by now." Greg resigned to the fact that he would have to tell Nick the whole story now by the scrutiny of the Texan's glare.

"Shit man, I just assumed." The nervousness is Greg's voice was coming through.

"Well, I didn't and I would like someone to explain it to me. How did you know about the light Greg?" Nick knew his words were coming out harsher then he meant too, if wasn't his friends fault, but only Greg could give him the answers he wanted know.

"Not long after we knew you were missing we got a small packaged delivered to the Lab. It was a web feed and we popped it into the computer. On the screen, it said 'you can only watch'. When he clicked, there you were. Greg felt defeated having being the one to tell this to Nick, but he deserved to know.

At Greg's words, Nick visibly paled. He felt so violated. It wasn't like he hadn't been through hell, but knowing that they had all seen him. He felt humiliated, like an insect under Grissom's microscope. He wanted to look at Greg and tell him it was all right, it wasn't his fault he didn't know, but he couldn't. He was too ashamed and deep down angry at the moment. He waited for the lab tech to continue. He knew there was more, and he knew he didn't want to hear it, but he wanted to know what everyone else did.

"If we had any idea that it was doing that to you, or taking up so much battery, we wouldn't have. But, it was the only way we could see you. We had to know you where all right. See you were still alive." Greg said the last words so softly Nick had a hard time hearing them.

"Someone was always in there keeping their eye on you, making sure you were all right." Greg had a hard time hiding his own trauma of witnessing Nick's plight in the box. The memories still haunted him to no end.

"Hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come down on you." He put his arm around Greg's shoulder and gave it a squeeze to make the younger man look at him.

"I just didn't know. Needless to say this comes as a shock. And you're right, I can't imagine how helpless you all must have felt." He was trying to reassure Greg he wasn't upset at him, but deep down he felt somewhat angered that no one had bothered to tell him in the past four days they all watched him suffer, cry, scream in panic, and didn't tell him. He hadn't felt that violated since he knew Nigel Crane had been watching his every move in his own home. He felt himself pull back from Greg a little. He just wanted a few moments to think about the information just given to him, and how to handle it with Warrick and the rest of the team.

"In a way, it saved your life, because that was the only way we knew how to find you. Grissom had been uh... watching the screen, when your face started to change. He could see you look down and squirm. Grissom panned in towards the cracks in the glass and could see them moving and realized they were ants. He waited until one of them crawled in front of the camera and took it's picture."

Somehow that though made Nick chuckle. Grissom taking pictures of ants as he was being eating alive by those things. He listened as Greg continue his story of that night.

"He found his book and identified it as a certain fire ant, which are very rare apparently in Nevada and only keep to tree and plant nurseries. We found every tree and plant nursery in the Las Vegas area. Archie and I compared the web cam transmission radius with the black box mileage we got from the kidnappers SUV and only two were within the overlapping land. Then it all happened so fast. Sara remembered that the kidnapper's daughter, Kelly, worked with plants and ran and grabbed her file, and found the nursery she worked in. She came running back into the room and pointed to exactly where you were." Greg told his story as detached as possible, but it was hard not getting caught up in the stressful moments again.

We went there with every available cop car, fire truck, responder unit we could, which was the entire department I think. Hell even Ecklie was there."

At that Nick looked up at Greg.

"You're kidding?" He was surprised to here he even helped out.

"I told you Nick, everyone was looking for you, we weren't gonna lose you when we were that close to finding you. And as bad as it may seem, if it wasn't for that camera and those fire ants, we may never have known where you were." Greg was trying not to make Nick feel any worse or embarrassed than he probably already did.

"Thanks for telling me Greg, I'm not mad at you." He wasn't upset at Greg, at least he had been truthful and let him know what had happened.

"I just feel bad Nick." Greg confessed, as he wiped away a couple of tears.

"I bring you out here to get your mind off of all of this, relax and enjoy some fresh air. Then all I did was add to your troubles."

"G, you didn't add anything, only one person is responsible for this and he's dead. I'll recover man, I always do." Nick smiled one of his 100 watt grins, and Greg instantly felt better.

What he said was true, but he would get his answers from someone. Warrick, Grissom, and Catherine. He wanted to know why no one told him this.

"I am glad you brought me here, I needed to get out for a while. I must admit the sunlight feels good, now how about we finish those sandwiches."

The two ate in companionable silence for the next hour. Enjoying the breeze off the lake, the fresh air, talking about Nick's fishing trips when he you growing up back in Texas. Reliving the case about the Scuba Diver up in the tree not too far from where they were. Nick was growing tired quickly and his caretaker could see his eyes growing weary.

"Hey, you ready to head back man? Warrick should be at your place soon, plus you look a little sleepy." Greg was trying not to sound overbearing, but he didn't want to wear his friend out.

"Yeah I am a little tired, let me help you here." Nick stood up but wavered somewhat.

"You're kidding right? Get in the truck and sit down, I'll get this. I'm here to help you, so let me do my job."

"Ok ok, I'll be in the truck waiting for you bossman." Nick was worn out, but he was trying hard not too show it too much.

Greg threw the stuff in the back of the SUV and hopped into the driver's seat. "I guess I'll let you pick the music for the drive home, and yes, that is quite an offer from me so don't mock me."

Nick smiled a little and put in an old country CD he hadn't listened to in quiet awhile. However, he could barely keep his eyes open. They pulled out onto the main road and when Greg looked over to ask Nick if he needed to stop and get anything, he was fast asleep.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey man, wake up." Nick slowly opened his eyes, not knowing he had even drifted off.
"What, are we home already?" Nick asked through a fog of sleep.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you doze the whole way home. Come on, let's get you inside. Looks like Warrick is already waiting for us. I hope I don't get in trouble for keeping you out too late."

"Don't worry, I'll tell him I make you take out, he won't yell at me."

"It's not you I'm worried about right now." Greg looked a little concerned that he would scolded by the older CSI when they got inside."Come on, let's head on in before you fall down man."

***

Chapter 6 by Kristen


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Warrick Brown had been arguing on his cell phone for the past few minutes. He had been hanging out with Nick the last few hours when he received the dreaded call. He paced outside on the sidewalk where he could get some privacy. He had been dating Tina for almost a month now. It was the most time he had invested with a woman in almost a year, but not nearly enough to say it was a totally dedicated and serious relationship. It still had this kinetic spark, a deep burning fire, but it lacked depth and a full fledged commitment.
"I said we'll talk about this later," he growled into the speaker before his ears were greeted with a click that signaled the end of the call.

He stared at his cell and shook his head as he stuffed it back into his jeans. He rubbed at his chin wearily. Tina just didn't understand. If she couldn't take the time to realize what he was going through and support him, then maybe she wasn't the right woman for him. Warrick worked his jaw back and forth and stomped back over to the townhouse. He would deal with this later.

He opened the door and walked back inside casually as if he just hadn't had a blow out with his girl. His partner lounged on his sofa and glanced up at him as he sulked into a love seat. Nick looked at him thoughtfully and gave him a head nod to ask what was going on.

Warrick grunted. "Nothin' man. Just my woman being a bit disagreeable."

Nick chuckled. "Not planning on going to any more fighting events?"

Warrick rolled his eyes. "Nah. You know how women are."

Now Nick really laughed. "Yeah, I do. But not too much lately."

Warrick cocked his head. "You kiddin me, man. I think you could have your choice of women back at the lab. Being famous and all."

It was meant to lighten up the mood, but Nick quickly looked away. It wasn't until he was out of the hospital and had his in depth conversation with Greg, before he realized how the entire lab had been so dedicated to finding him. When he was trapped in his little hell, it never occurred to him that everyone else had been tortured to every second of his struggles. Every painful moment that he experienced had been transmitted in loving detail to his coworkers. Nick had been made into a freak show spectacle at some mad carnival. The bastard had made sure that even with facing the prospect of death, that everyone in his world would be made to share with it. What kind of dignity would have back at his place of work?

The mastermind behind his ordeal had undoubtedly relished in his suffering. The kidnapper had made sure that every one of his friends had been traumatized by his plight. In the end, they had all been victims. Nick vowed that he wouldn't let that man have the last laugh.

"Whatcha thinkin?" Warrick asked, after it was obvious that his partner had drifted off into his own little world.

Nick shook his head. "I'm not. I won't waste my time dwelling on it, bro."

The criminalist fixed his eyes on the other man. His posture stiffened, as he gathered his resolve. "I'm not going to let it run my life."

Warrick didn't really think that his partner had come to terms with what he went though quite yet. But he wasn't going to push him to talk about it...not right now. The CSI studied his partner. Nick seemed relaxed enough sitting there in a dark blue pair of sweat pants and an old A&M T-shirt. The only physical reminders of his trauma were the bite marks along his face and neck. The rest of his devoured skin was concealed by clothing and the carefully taped gauze that adorned his arms.

The partners had done very little since Nick's visit to the lake. The two criminalists watched the world championship of poker on ESPN for several hours in between repeats of Pardon the Interruption. Nick wanted to lose himself in sports for a while. He squirmed in his seat constantly. His chest started to prickle and his lower legs were a mass of irritation. Every patch of skin itched like crazy and his forearms actually burned. Nick was starting to get anxious as his temperature rose and he started to break out into a sweat.

Warrick noticed how much Nick fidgeted around. "Why don't you try to relax?"

Nick just glared at him, and the other CSI grimaced at his poor sense of advice. "Have you taken you medication for the bites?"

"Yeah, man, its not helping." Nick hated the whine in his tone, but the itch was becoming quite bothersome.

He got up and stalked over to his kitchen counter. Nick took some Advil to try to reduce his slight fever and combat the swelling. After swallowing the pills, he started to walk back and fourth in the small area.

"You think pacing is going to help?"

Nick let out a long sigh. "Damn it."

He didn't know where to put his hands as his flesh seemed to crawl with agitation. The Texan let out a groan and rested his forehead against the wall. He tried to calm down, but he was slightly worn out from his trip to the lake. It was harder for him to relax in his annoyed state. His mind was overly stressed out from his emotional talk with Greg from earlier and his body was physically exhausted.

Warrick strolled over to him. "Nick."

His partner looked up.

Warrick inhaled a long breath. "Why don't you try out those herbs Gris gave you. They couldn't hurt."

Nick growled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"When am I wrong?" Warrick asked, his voice mocking a slightly annoyed tone.

Nick rolled his eyes as he snatched the container and strode into his bathroom.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The criminalist peeled away his T-shirt and threw it to the floor. He sat down on the seat of his toilet and systematically pulled away the tape, hissing when it pulled on the hair of his forearms. He unwrapped the cotton gauze reveling the swelled and irritated skin. Nick grumbled to himself, atleast the pain from some of the blisters had subsided.
Nick turned on the facet and started running the warm water. It took a few minutes for the tub to fill and Nick poured the herbs so they would have time to mix in. He pulled off his sweatpants and stripped off his boxers. Nick gingerly lowered his body in the soothing fluid as he pulled the shower curtain around.

The criminalist sighed deeply when the water hit his skin. His sore flesh was enveloped in a wave of moisture and easing liquid. Nick closed his eyes as he settled into the tub and rested his head against the tile behind him. After several minutes his tense muscles relaxed and his desire to scratch his skin raw was slowly erased.

Nick smiled as his flesh soaked in some of the healing properties of the water. He adjusted his position slightly, since his tub wasn't very big. His arm hit the wall when he tried to get comfortable and then his foot stubbed the facet.

He cursed, just as he banged his knee to one side.

The thing was too cramped. The CSI stared at the tiled walls surrounding him. Nick felt his heart start to pound in his chest. His breathing rapidly increased, as he gazed transfixed at the inner closure of the tub. His body barely fit inside and he started to feel closed in. Nick quickly swung open the shower curtain to reveal more of the room.

Air. He wanted more air.

He wasn't trapped by all sides. There was no Plexiglas above his head with dirt all around him. However, the steam that rose form the water suddenly made him feel intensely hot. It wasn't the dry heat from inside the box, but the combination of the tight space with the lack of cool air caused his throat to close up on him.

Nick sat straight up in the tub and placed his hand to his chest as his breath continued to get caught. He started to wheeze, as the panic engulfed the rest of him. Nick's blood pressure sky rocketed as he franticly crawled his way out of the enclosed area. He desperately clung to the grip on the wall above his soap dish. With his fight and flight response, he pulled himself up and nearly tumbled out of it. His foot slipped on the floor and he came crashing down. His knees shook so bad Nick had trouble getting to his feet.

He had to escape this room and now!

The frightened man grappled with the towel bar, his hand missing it several times. His fingers brushed lightly against it and hit the light switch on accident, plunging the bathroom into darkness. Nick found himself back on the floor as a strangled scream escaped his lips.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Warrick channeled surfed for quite a while, not really finding anything of interest to watch. He fiddled with the remote and found the settings used for all of Nick's favorites. Curious, Warrick starting rummaging through Nick's highlighted list, a small smile tugging around his features. Discovery Channel, A&E, Animal Planet, TLC, ESPN Alternative, ESPN, Speed Channel, Out Door Channel. Warrick shook his had good naturally.
"Only you, man." He muttered to himself.

Not being that bowled over by his partner's choice of entertainment, he put on of the music channels and settled on some lite jazz. The criminalist was tired. He did not get a lot of real sleep at his place. Warrick had bee too wired and mentally exhausted for any serious rest. He decided after tonight he would the gym and pound away at a punching bag. Maybe a lot of physical exercise would exert all his energy and let him fall asleep without any more dreaded nightmares.

He was about to get up to heat up one of the pizzas that Sara had purchased when he thought he heard a thud. Warrick turned his attention to the bathroom and concentrated on the noise. He wasn't about to go bounding in when his buddy taking a bath. He started walking closer when he his ears perked up at the sound of a muffled scream.

Warrick sprinted towards the closed door. "Nick?" He called out his name, uncertain what was transpiring behind the walls.

"Warrick!"

There was no mistaking that frightened voice.

Taking a deep breath, Warrick opened the door. The CSI squinted his eyes when he realized the bathroom was dark. He searched out a light switch and flicked it on.

Warrick's mind didn't quite register with the sight in front of him. His instincts kicked in before his ability to analyze, and he swiftly grabbed a towel and draped it around Nick's waist. The other man was shivering and was frozen still in fear. What alarmed Warrick the most besides the obvious breakdown was the fact that Nick was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Come on, man let me help you up." He encouraged as he grabbed his partner's arm.

Nick could barely got his body to obey his commands. His partner had snagged his arm and was trying to help him stand. Despite feeling like some basket case, Nick was able to get his feet moving and had the presence of mind to clutch the towel around his waist, as he was lead shakily into the hallway.

Nick still felt like his heart had jumped into his throat and was beginning to feel slightly lightheaded. He couldn't catch his breath and his rubbery legs were about to collapse from his weight.

Warrick felt his friend slipping and slung his arm around his shoulders and literally slung Nick over to his sofa before he fell flat on his face.

"Put your head between your knees." Warrick commanded, as he wrestled with his own frantic breathing.

Nick took one rapid shuddering breath after another. He kept his head low and concentrated on trying to calm down.

Warrick stayed crouched in front of him going through all the steps in trying to help victims of a panic attacks.

"Its all right buddy. Everything's fine. " Warrick muttered.

Nick felt his pulse slow down, his chest felt like it was caught less in a vise grip. He wrapped one arm around his middle while the other one still kept himself covered up. After several minutes the rise and fall of his chest slowed a bit. Nick lifted his head slowly, testing to see if he still felt faint.

Nick leaned back against the soft plushness of his sofa and held his face in his left hand.

Warrick let out a slow exhale as he mind flooded with relief. He sat down hard on the floor and put his hand on Nick's knee.

"Um...do ya...I mean..do you have something you want to take?" Warrick looked into brown eyes, hoping that his best friend didn't take his statement the wrong way.

Nick occupied his mind by adjusting the towel around his waist. His cheeks burned slightly as the realization of what happened finally hit him.

"I--well. Yeah. I've got this script," he stuttered.

"Where is it?"

Nick swallowed. "I think somewhere on the counter," he said hoarsely.

Warrick busied himself with collecting the medication. His own hands shook slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth hard. 'Goddamn that Gordon bastard for doing this.' He screamed in his mind. The CSI needed so badly to let go of his rage, but he would store it away for another time.

He looked at the bottle. Nick's physician explained to him the need for this prescription. Warrick tapped a single pill into his palm. He grabbed a glass of water and gave both items to his partner.

Nick took them quickly, before he allowed himself to think about what he was doing.

'No, he wasn't going to carry this with him all the time. He had to get past it...had to let it go.'

Nick sat numbly on his sofa as the adrenaline rush from his anxiety attack slowly faded. He didn't look up, couldn't face the stricken look of his best friend.

"Could you find my sweats." He asked, his voice cracking.

Warrick blinked several times. "Um, yeah...Sorry."

He entered the bathroom found the pants and grabbed his discarded T-shirt. He brought them back over. Warrick turned around as Nick slipped them back on and sunk back into the couch heavily.

Nick stared at his floor, his raw emotions bubbling to the surface. "First I can't sleep in my own bed last night...now..." Nick's voice trailed off.

Warrick looked down on him. He didn't have words to express how sick he felt inside. Helpless..he was so damn un-useful.

Nick ran his hand through his hair. He felt the volatile rage of his situation boil over. He bolted off the sofa with his hands holding each side of his face.

He breathed hard through his nostrils and let out a long and painful scream. Then he screamed some more.

Warrick flinched at the outburst. It was bound to happen. 'Let is all out, Nicky,' he thought to himself.

Nick pounded on his wall several times, but not hard enough to damage anything. It felt good to release his pent up rage. He placed each hand on the interior and turned his head towards his partner. "I was fine. Then the walls started closing in... then I couldn't breath." Nick bit his lip. "I held it together for 24 hours, Rick, and I can't even deal with being home."

Warrick stood next to him. "You had the guts and the will power and the determination to survive, Nick. However, all that's going to effect you later...you're human, man. I mean...Jesus, Nick...you went though Hell. You were fucking tortured, dude."

Nick shook his head. "What else am I going to freak out about, huh?" Nick stared at his partner willing him to give him some answers. "I mean am I going get the shakes from a stupid fan? Or I know...I'll freeze up whenever I enter the lab.. place's full of Plexiglas. Is there going to be a betting pool on that one?"

Warrick seemed frazzled. "One step at a time...that's what its going to take."

His partner looked up. "I found out about the feed..." Nick said in a low voice, his tone almost unidentifiable.

Warrick too a deep breath and let it out slowly. He walked past Nick as he reasoned out what he was going to say. His partner stood there lost in thought, it was obvious from his posture how mortified he was about the situation.

"Greg, told you?" He asked, his tone hostile towards the ex-lab tech.

Nick straightened to his full height and stalked over. "At least he didn't lie to me about it."

Warrick didn't flinch, but he was slightly hurt by the hidden accusation. "I was going to tell you when you ...when it seemed...

Ah Hell, Nick! I don't know when!"

Warrick brushed past him, with the CSI's eyes on his every movement ..."I mean what's the appropriate time to tell you partner, by the way, after you were abducted, we watched you fight for your life." Warrick turned around his face an angry sea of emotions. "It was so God damn awful..." he whispered.

Nick stared at his friend; all of his self doubt and maybe even a bit of self hatred, melted at the admittance. Nick had tried to forget about his moments in the box...it was easier if he just let it go. But every little thing he did, every freak out, every breakdown was shared with his closet friends.

He felt violently ill as he conjured up terrible fresh memories that he still battled to hide deep down. That damn light had haunted him last night. What Greg told him still played out in his head. He gulped at what all his friends had been put though.

He started pacing again, shaking his head. "He left my fucking gun in there with me, man."

"I know." Warrick said so quietly he wasn't even sure if it was really spoken out loud.

Nick turned slowly around, and faced a very haunted person. Warrick looked like a slight wind might knock him down, his partner had never seen him seem so...so fallible. The CSI started processing the last bits of conversation, then he paled slightly.

"You saw me take out the light."

His mouth was suddenly dry, his vocal cords didn't seem to work. "Yeah."

"I almost...I-I..." Nick felt his fingers treble with the imaginary weight of his Glock. Nick curled his hand into a fist, to keep it still. "The fan went out...I-I didn't want to die slowly.. we've all...seen... what..I mean... how horrible suffocation is."

"Eating my gun was one of the only options I had." Nick said his voice overly thick. His thoughts buzzed slightly by the anti anxiety medication.

Warrick swallowed. "You didn't man. You--you held on." Warrick shook his head. "Don't know if I'd lasted as long."

This was all wrong. Nick felt like he was going backwards. He was just supposed to stop thinking about it. Go on, push things forward. He looked at his partner. "I just want this all to go away."

Warrick put his hand on his shoulder. "Its going to take time." Warrick's face grew intense. "I'm here man. We're all going to be there for you. Nicky... you'll...we'll... get past this... I promise."

Nick felt the pounding of his heart slow steadily. His meds were relaxing him. Before he lost himself in an artificial comfort zone he gulped back another small breakdown. He had lost it too many times in front of Warrick. He wasn't going to do it anymore.

There was a slight twitch in his face and grabbed Warrick's shoulder. "Thanks, Warrick," he said, forcing the words out before they were cut off from his constricting throat.

Warrick kept himself together just a bit longer. He lifted his head, and stood up straight. "You're welcome dude. You're my brother, man."

Nick let out a long breath. He was feeling fatigued. He didn't say anything. Without another word he took a sleeping pill and headed for the couch. He wasn't even going to pretend that he was ready to lay in his bed again for a while. Nick sat down in silence, while Warrick got comfortable in the loveseat and clicked on the television again.

***

Chapter 7 by Kristen


Nick stared at the door, imagining what the inside looked like, how it felt. It was a strange thing to be contemplating, but if he didn't make himself continue with this exercise, then he would be forced to deal with what he would deem a lack of progress.
Two weeks. It had been fourteen days since...well...since the incident. Three hundred and thirty-six hours ago to this very day. His house was empty, void of the endless stream of house guests and visitors. After a week, he had refused to let anyone continue to spend the night. He had to learn to deal with the solitude of being a bachelor again.

To say it had been difficult was an understatement. Nick had walked the very fine line of wanting the comfort of his friends around him, to longing for the ability to be his old self again. The Nick who lived alone without problems, without the constant struggle of trying to find that elusive state of "normal."

So, instead of nightly houseguests, his friends just stopped by on a constant bases to see how he was doing, or to hang out. Between all the visits, Nick was very rarely ever alone. Nick felt like he was under scrutiny ... of course his coworkers were only concerned about him. However, all it did was put a spotlight on everything he tired so hard to forget.

For example his recent therapy sessions came to mind. Three times a week, he had to talk to his doctor, and most of the time it was just him fiddling around in his chair. His therapist tried to pry into every facet of his life that was effected by his ordeal. Nick didn't understand how all this digging into his psyche was going to help him get past things. Despite his objections, if he ever wanted to go back to work, Nick would do whatever his doc asked.

Which is what brought him to his current predicament. Nick was supposed to simply open the closet door, close it, and stand there.

"Enough of this." He said to no one in particular. Nick took a deep breath, counted to three, opened his hall closet, and stomped in.

Then he closed the door.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but after a few seconds, he realized that there was no light at all to focus on. It was pitch black, a tiny crack of light came through from the bottom of the door. It wasn't even enough to even allow him to make out any shapes. Of course this was a tiny amount of space. His back was against some of his coats, and he tried to keep from tripping over a few pairs shoes stashed away.

He was supposed to stay in here for five solid minutes, then exit and write down anything he felt while inside. Well, it had now been about a minute... it seemed like a minute. Nick clicked on his cell phone to look at the time. The blue glow from the screen cast eerie shadows around.

His heart quickened at the sight of the light. For someone reason his entire body tensed up a bit, the hair along the back of his neck stood on end. Nick swallowed and tried a few of the calming techniques his doctor had taught him.

Two minutes, according to his clock. One hundred and twenty seconds and the nerves along his body were starting to fire off warning signals. This wasn't a very good sign. Nick began humming to himself, when he started to feel jittery. He had mastered the art of the quick shower, but this whole enclosed space thing was really starting to get to him.

His breathing was more rapid, and shallow, but he wasn't on the floor in a tiny little ball. That was progress right?

Four minutes had passed. He swallowed, as he tried not to think about how close the inside interior of the door was. It wasn't plastic, not like that damn box. He was safely behind his own closet...surrounded by the walls of his house. He felt a little trickle of sweat drip down his forehead. It was dry in here, stuffy.

Before his heart starting to increase he looked down. Five minutes, and his hands were all ready turning the doorknob.

He bolted back into his hallway, his heart pounded, his ears filled with the rapid intake of his harsh breathing.

Nick clapped his hands together and nodded to himself. "No problem, Stokes." He said to no one. He glanced at his pale white reflection in the mirror and ignored the shiver it sent down his body.

He did it. The task wasn't easy, but he'd write down how he felt.

Maybe not every detail.

Progress. He had made progress... yes, indeed.

He marched over to his counter and looked over the list of tasks written there.

Go out into busy public places. Check.

Stand alone inside closet for five minutes. Check

Sleep in own bed.

Nick stared at that next assignment. They were after all, just challenges. He could do them. The pen in his hand wavered only slightly. He looked around his living room, and let it slip out of his fingers.

Maybe he could try to overcome that task tomorrow.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One week after his attempt at being in a tight, enclosed space, Nick was getting closer to one issue had had yet been able to accomplish. Sara had driven him to his doctor's appointment. He was always with one of his coworkers, he was never alone. His therapist had felt that when Nick had finished each session that he was too anxious or on edge to drive himself home safely. Until it was deemed that the counseling was not effecting him to a point where he wasn't overly rattled, then he could drive himself.
Soon, but not now. This was one of those obstacles that Nick had written down on his list of things to regain himself. His doc felt the list was a decent idea, of course his therapist wasn't quite sure how much the CSI had revolved his life around this piece of paper. It was viewed as symbol of what he called his old life.

Now he stood in his living room, around a myriad of shopping bags that littered his dining room table. Sara Sidle was unwrapping several large candles that they had purchased together after his last session. She would remove the tissue paper, stiff each candle, smile, then set it down next to all the others.

Nick wanted to get back on to his regular sleeping schedule. The biggest news that he had learned from work was the reformation of the old team. The graveyard shift had been expanded to include two new criminalists and Catherine and Grissom ran the team together. This meant when he went back to work, Nick would once again be on nights.

He would return to work with the people he enjoyed being around, and he wanted to get his body back to sleeping during the day. The Texan had forgone sleep yesterday so he would be tired when he got back from his excursion. It wasn't exactly a difficult thing to accomplish.

He was constantly plagued by nightmares and woke up in a cold sweat. It was one of the reasons he couldn't take haveing people spend the night anymore. He didn't want to subject them to his night terrors, and he really didn't want people to know how often they occured. When he did sleep, it was actually just a series of many short naps. Nick had yet to sleep an entire eight hours without the aid of medication, but if you added up all the little bits of shut eye, it had to count.

Just another level in his ten step program to becoming normal again.

Nick surpressed a yawn and Sara eyed him with a glint in her eye.

"Do you want help setting these up?"

Nick actually gave her a grin. "Do you think you could control yourself in my bedroom?"

Sara rewarded Nick was a quick jab to his shoulder. He mocked being hurt and smiled one of his million watt charmers.

"I can't believe I'm using scented candles," he complained as he took a huge stack of them to his bedroom.

"Aromatherapy Nick, it supposed to help." Sara tried to encourage as she followed him.

She placed several ones on his chest of drawers and his night stand.

Nick arranged them in some kind of pattern and sighed. "I guess."

The candles had served a dual purpose. His therapist had recommended them for their soothing properties as well as a source of light. Nick was still not comfortable in pitch blackness, which was needed to sleep during daylight hours. Any amount of lamps were other too bright, or just plain annoying.

Candles had been the supposed answer. Nick stepped back from the five he had arranged, and gave his friend an unconvinced expression.

"I'll try anything," he murmured softly.

Sara put her hand on his shoulder and Nick closed his eyes. Sara had lost count how many times she had reassured the man in front of her, that things would be all right. That he needn't set goals that were too high or push himself to hard. He always just brushed her concern away and she would always leave feeling worse about the situation.

Sara didn't go home and cry every night after spending time with Nick Stokes. No, she only allowed her feelings to get to her in her sleep, when even her mind wasn't aware the true nature of her own torment. She was as cheerful as she would ever be around the man. They shared breakfast, polite conversation, and dozens of movies together. She looked up at Nick who seemed too hesitant, too scared over the thought of sleeping in his own bed.

She pulled him closer and gave him a long hug. His chin rested on her shoulder, and she rubbed her hands up and down his back. This was the most progress Nick had made in the last few weeks, but there was something about his demeanor or the way he phrased his words that made her very uncomfortable.

She quickly pulled away from him, and saw the pure determination in his eyes.

"Call me if you need anything."

Sara was always rushing off when things became too much. He was kind of glad, because he wasn't sure if he could handle someone else's problems. Even if he was the cause of them.

Nick didn't give her an answer, just a quick nod. She let herself out and he was alone again.

All of a sudden he felt very drained and he got ready for sleep. Nick lit some of the candles and crawled into bed. It felt strange when his weight caused the mattress to creak. He curled up on his side, sans sleeping pills, minus anit-anxiety medication. No, he was going to this on his own.

The glow from the candles was not exactly the cure all he had been seeking. However, they were soft, and filled the room with a sense of warmth. After two hours, he couldn't keep his heavy eyelids open anymore and drifted off to sleep.

Three weeks. Twenty-one days. Five hundred and four hours.

Nick Stokes had fallen asleep in his own bed. He had only gone four hours when he woke with a start in a cold sweat. He stumbled out of his bedroom, and grabbed a bottle of water out of his fridge. He drank the cool liquid and let out a long sigh.

He wandered barefoot over to his counter and marked off the current obstacle on his path. He may not have slept the whole night, but he did drift off in his own bed. Something he had not accomplished in a long time.

He placed the check next to that task with a small, hollow smile.

It was after all some progress and that was all that mattered to him.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nick looked at his watch. He had several hours till Warrick's usual after shift visit. Nick tried to recall if Greg was tagging along or if he had a date with one of the new lab techs. His weekly reports of the newest array of lovely women, made Nick chuckle sometimes. Greg had invited him out to hang out with a small group of them, but he just wasn't in a sociable mood.
In retrospect, it was perhaps that he wasn't in the mood to hang out with new CSI employees. These were people he had never meet before. He was sure they knew all about him, and that was what made the subject such a moot point. His life had been on the cover of many newspapers. Nick was absolutely sure he was a main subject of gossip at work. He didn't want to be the center of attention at some social gathering or ...ever. He'd accept the weariness of being whispered about when he returned to to the Lab, but not right now.

His therapist thought perhaps he was being a bit paranoid. That after nearly five weeks his coworkers would have better things to discuss. In the back of the Nick's mind, he knew that his antics in the box were just too juicy to pass up. He was sure his team mates didn't let slip some of his more troubling ordeals, but that meant with a void like that, certain employees would just make up the rest.

Nick was in normal street clothes. A long sleeved red shirt, a comfortable set of jeans, and he grabbed a light weight jacket, with the words Foresincs printed in the top right shoulder. He even grabbed his hat with the same words on the front of it. It was like wearing his normal clothes for work, and this next "challenge" was one of the last he felt he needed to overcome.

He grabbed his gun and checked the safety before sliding it in his holster. He glanced at his watch, just a bit past 4 a.m. The criminalist entered his truck, adjusted the dial to an old country and western station, and drove to his destination. He had been cruising around a lot this week. He no longer needed a 'baby-sitter' along with his sessions of late.

He left his therapist's office with much less anxiety. No more trembling hands, or fits of depression that were often followed by utter silence. This always caused who ever's turn it was to accompany him, to feel even more anxious around him.

Nick drove along, maneuvering his vehicle past the little amount of traffic past the strip. His mind was very acutely focused on what he had to do tonight. His first evaluation to return to work was next week. If he received a clean mill of mental health, then he could return back to his job within a few days.

Six weeks. By the seventh week, he could be back to his routine before his life had been thrown into a black pit of chaos. Nick noticed the parking lot and slowly pulled in. His adrenaline started to surge through his body, and he stepped out from the truck, as casually as possible. He scanned the area, no one else was here and he pressed the little button to his remote and locked he truck.

His feet crunched on the asphalt as he took in the area. He placed his hand above his hip. The butt of his gun felt reassuring against his fingers. Nick continued walking past the street lights, and inched closer to the alleyway. The CSI cast a backwards look behind him, no movement around. Only silence surrounded him. He licked dry lips, his deep brown eyes taking in every detail in front of him.

He stopped for a moment and looked down at the ground, noting all old the tar and concrete. There was nothing out of the ordinary around. Cigarette butts littered the ground, an old discarded coke bottle rolled a little with the breeze. Nick took a long deep breath, and walked some more.

He came across the edge of the alley, near a familiar rail. He lowered himself to his haunches, and looked at the empty space in front of him. Nick felt his pule beating along the side of his neck, his heart thundered. But, he kept his breathing, deep and regular. He stared down at his hands, they remained still.

The criminalist didn't know how long he stayed in his crouched position. He just listened to the night, taking all the sounds in the distance. He must have zoned out for a while, dark and scary images flashed through his mind. All the while, he made his intake of breath as steady as possible.

Time ceased to exist. Nick listened to his heart slow down to a more normal pace, in line with his breathing. The wind blew around, dust, little bits of gravel around his feet, but he just stayed low, almost motionless.

Then as his body relaxed he heard the distinct noise of a car engine and the sounds of tire on pavement. His eyes flew open and he spun around to face the approaching vehicle, his hand a few inches away from his gun.

A patrol car rolled past his truck in the distance and came closer. A flashlight shone in the darkness, the bright light hitting him in the face as the patrol car got nearer. Nick shielded his eyes, and the car stopped a few feet away.

An officer carefully exited his car, the flashlight still shined towards him. Nick could hear the foot steps.

"Care to tell me what you are doing out here, Sir?" A low-bass voice asked.

Nick stood up, his hand fell to his side, and he walked closer to the man. His heart was beating a bit faster, his breathing had increased slightly. Which was of course a bit confusing as he walked closer to a fellow law officer.

"Just out for a night walk." He said, his twang a bit more pronounced.

Nick stepped in the policeman's line of vision.

The officer lowered his light and looked at the CSI a bit confused. "Stokes?"

Nick chuckled to himself. He recognized officer Toby. "Yeah."

"What the Hell are you doing out here, man?" The older cop looked around. "By yourself in the middle of the night?"

Nick shrugged. "Just needed some time to think, I guess."

The Texan smiled warmly, the man in front of him seemed to relax a bit.

"Well, its a bit strange is all." The police officer stepped closer and eyed the criminalist with a little scrutiny. "You okay?"

Nick guessed he better get used to that question. "Yep." Was his short reply.

"Okay, man. Just you spooked me." Officer Toby studied the area, his facial expressions still showed the strains of trying to seem nonchalant. "Don't know why you'd want to come back here."

Nick's grin was now a bit forced. "Just something that needed to be done."

The CSI didn't stick around for anymore small talk. That unnerving feeling was back. The same thing that kept him from hanging out with Greg and some of his new associates.

"I've got to get goin." Nick nodded.

"Sure thing, Stokes. ...Um, see you around soon."

Nick walked past the officer. "Maybe next week," he called out over his shoulder. The criminalist got back in his truck and headed home.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nick parked his truck and put the gear in place. He stared out his wind shield, towards his townhouse. He noticed Warrick's car a few feet away. His friend must have wrapped up his shift earlier than normal. 'Slow night,' he thought.

Nick killed the engine and sat silently in his seat. He looked down at his hands and noticed the slight tremor. He scrunched up his face in confusion. Nick balled both hands into fists, and then uncurled them several times.

He shook his head and wandered to his door. Warrick and Greg both had keys, so he let himself inside. He went though the foyer and found Warrick on his cell phone in the midst of finishing a phone call.

"Yeah..never mind. Yeah." His partner clicked the his cell off.

The lanky man eyed his friend. "Where were you at?" Warrick looked own at his watch. "At 5 am?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Sorry if I'm out past my bed time. Won't happen again." Nick mocked as he took off his jacket.

Warrick strolled over with a serious look on his face. He noticed Nick's weapon and watched him as he unpacked it and put it back inside the drawer of his little table.

"Where'd you go that you felt that your piece was needed?" Warrick's tone was all business.

Nick brushed past him and started digging around in his kitchen as he tried to formulate an answer.

"Just needed to do something." Nick turned around and leaned against his counter as he munched on an apple. "If I recall, it was a certain someone who said he'd always be packing when he went out." Nick took a bite of the fruit. "Its late. Just wanted to be careful."

Warrick wasn't buying any of this cool and collected act. "Exactly." The other criminalist seemed to wrestle with his next set of words. "Look man. You're a grown adult. Don't matter what you do. But, when its the middle of the night, I just get..."

"I'm not gonna get nabbed by some bogeyman, bro. There were some things I needed to do. Clear my head a bit." Nick discarded his snack. "I'm going to try to go back to work in a week or so." Nick shrugged. "Carrying my gun is just part of getting back into the swing of things."

Warrick could tell his buddy was holding something back. However, if Nick was not in the mood to share. He wasn't going to start an argument pushing the wrong buttons.

"You think under two months is enough?" Warrick asked in concern.

Nick gave him a very serious expression. "Its been close to six weeks. In a few days, it'll be seven. I'm going stir crazy, man. I've attended every therapy session. I'm not taking any medications anymore." Nick looked at Warrick right in the eye, unblinking. "I've made a ton of progress."

Nick still had to pop one of his anti anxiety meds ever once in a while. The lack of sleeping pills as his regular nightly diet was a very new thing, but it was on the list. So, it was okay in his book. It wasn't exactly a lie.

Warrick wanted to give Nick as much encouragement as possible. He wasn't really bowled over by the notion that his friend wanted to return to work so soon. However, even Warrick didn't know when exactly was the proper amount of time to recover from such an ordeal. He wasn't about to begrudge Nick his need to return to something he valued so highly as a sign of normalacy.

Warrick shook his head. "So, what's on deck for today?"

Nick smiled. "Gris got me a DVD from the San Francisco Zoo. An entomologist buddy of his works there and got one of the guys who runs the Wings Over the World Exhibit to send me some of their stuff."

Warrick tried not to look horrified by the idea of yet another collection of movies on birds. But if that is what Nick wanted to watch. It was his place.

Nick went to his counter to try to find the package that contained the DVDs. He sifted through some of the papers around and his hand touched his list. He looked over at Warrick who had made himself at home in the loveseat in the corner. Nick often thought of that as his partner's chair now. He looked down and saw the second to last thing written on it.

He quickly jotted down a big check mark. He was ready to go back now. Every obstacle had been successfully completed in his mind. All he had to do was pass his physical, which would be a breeze. He had nothing but time to work out at home. His mental proficiency test would be all that was need to get back to work.

The old Nick Stokes was only a week away from returning. The CSI smiled at his list. He wandered back into the living room.

Seven weeks. Forty-nine days.One thousand one hundred and seventy-six hours since the incident.

***

Next part of Reclaiming Life.

• Main CSI page
• The new stories
• Gil/Greg stories
• Gil/Nick stories
• Gil/Warrick stories
• Nick/Greg stories
• Nick/Warrick stories
• Greg/Warrick stories
• Nick/Bobby stories
• Jim Brass stories
• David Hodges stories
• CSI: New York stories
• CSI: Miami stories
• All f/f stories
• Other pairings & threesomes
• Gen CSI stories
• C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation: The Complete Ninth Season