Title: Solace
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I write and post for fun only.
Summary: …you also wrote an AU of Overload, where Nick talked to Griss instead of Catherine about The Babysitter.
Suggested by: dipenates

“It’s what makes a person, I guess.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and then shakes his head. “Anyway. It was a long time ago. Sorry, Griss.”

Other than to reassure him that there’s no need to apologize to me, I’m not quite sure what to say to him. Of my entire team, I thought Nick was the one with the charmed life; to discover that he has his own demons is deeply unsettling, for reasons I don’t particularly want to go into. Part of me wants to ask for more details in the hope that once the incident is analyzed, we’ll figure out that Nick’s perception of it was incorrect and that nothing untoward happened. Here you go, Nick, here’s your childhood back, cloudless and unsullied. If only.

“You never told anybody? Not even your mother?”

He shrugs.

“No. By the time my parents got home, I’d cried myself to sleep. And the next morning… well, somehow it didn’t seem real any more. Plus, I lied a lot when I was kid; it was my way of trying to keep up with my sisters. And it occurred to me that even if I did tell, nobody would believe me. Like the little boy who cried wolf.”

He smiles a little.

“My mom was always telling me that story. I never lied after it happened, not once, but I’d already established my reputation. I think I was in high school before my parents first took my word over that of my sisters without my having to produce some kind of supporting evidence.”

“I can see why you became interested in forensic criminology.”

He gapes at me for a second, then laughs.

“I never thought of it that way.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” he slowly repeats something he said earlier, a note of wonder in his voice.

“Do you feel any better?”

Sure, Gil, all Nick needed was to talk to you. Still, he seems to give the question serious consideration.

“Sort of,” he says slowly, as if he’s not really sure.

“I could give you a hug,” I suggest, and a look of horror crosses his face. I intended it as a joke, and expected the very reaction I got; nonetheless, it stings a little.

He gets up, and I reach out and grab his arm.

“Nick. Your qualities make you. You’d have grown up to be the man you are even if this hadn’t happened. Acts of violence are not a rite of passage.”

“I know that,” he says and taps his temple. “Here, I know that. And I know I shouldn’t feel guilty for being a victim or that I didn’t react somehow. Hell, I was only nine.”

He shouldn’t, but it’s obvious that he does. Maybe not all the time, but sometimes, when a case like this comes along and he can’t turn off the empathy that makes him such a good CSI under normal circumstances. Being in control of himself, of the situation, matters to Nick, and I now understand that there’s more to it than the perfectionism or narcissism I’d alternately ascribed to his behavior in the past.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’d better get back to work.”

I realize I’m still holding onto his arm, and I let my hand drop.

“Griss, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t… You know.”

“Of course.”

He pauses at the door, his hand on the knob, and he looks back at me.

“Thank you for listening. And for not preaching too much.”

“Any time.”

He nods, then smiles.

“I should have accepted that hug, just to see your face.”

“Any time,” I repeat woodenly, and his smile broadens.

“I do feel better,” he says softly, his eyes suddenly serious, and then he’s gone.