By the time he left the hospital it had been three days since he'd last been standing. Nick hadn't thought much of it until he tried to get out of the bed after the nurse went to process his release papers and nearly collapsed. The only thing that kept him from hitting the ground was Warrick's arm around his waist catching him at the last moment.

"I could have sworn the doc said to wait for someone to help you and not just wait for us to leave the room."

Nick said nothing as he was helped back into the bed, too frustrated at the moment. It shouldn't have been so hard for him to get out of bed. He'd only wanted to put on his jeans. It wasn't like he'd even been hurt bad. All that had happened was that he'd spent twenty-two hours flat on his back. No big deal. He'd crashed for nearly as long after some tough cases and it had never bothered him. A few cups of coffee and he was good to go.

"You've been off your feet for more than seventy-two hours, Nicky. Next time just take it slow," Warrick cautioned, nudging Nick's elbow with his own.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Nick glanced down at his bare knees. The ant bites weren't so bad there. Not like his arms and face. He hadn't seen his face yet, but if his arms were any indication he probably looked like he had some kind of alien acne.

"I just wanna go home," Nick sighed at last. "There's too much noise here and I always feel like being are watching me and… I just wanna sleep in my own bed, man."

Nick had to stop there, swallowing hard when he felt his eyes begin to burn. He didn't need to start crying and give the doctors a reason to make him stay. Hell, with his luck they'd lock him up in the psych ward if they knew he was struggling just to pick up a glass. The slick, slightly damp surface made him alternately want to scream or vomit, but he couldn't let on if he wanted to go home.

"I brought the truck up so all we need to do is get you in your jeans and sneakers and you're a free man."

It sounded so simple the way Warrick said it. Like all he had to do was leave the hospital and it would all be over. Better still, it wouldn't have even happened. It wasn't like he could remember much of what had occurred after he'd been drugged the first time. At least that was what he tried to convince himself. Sometimes it even worked. After all, how much of it could be real if he saw Doc Robins and Dave slicing him open with a chainsaw? It was just the drugs and the ant venom messing with his system. A few more days and it would all be cleared up. Everything would be normal again. His mother and sisters wouldn't be hovering over him. His brother wouldn't be acting so awkward around him and Cisco—

"Hey, Nick, come on back man," Warrick murmured, squeezing his shoulder briefly. "Don't go givin' these docs an excuse to keep you here."

Shaking himself from head to toe, Nick grabbed hold of his jeans and tried for a second time to get them on. He quickly conceded defeat, though, when leaning over made him feel light-headed to the point that he almost passed out. Instead he held tight to Warrick's shoulders while the taller man crouched down in front of him to help him into his pants. One leg then the other and a tug upwards; just like dressing an upright corpse for all the assistance Nick was able to offer. Letting go of Warrick's shoulders was proving an impossible task so the other man even had to button the jeans for him. It was pathetic really. He was pathetic.

"Woah. Hey, don't you go tearing up on me, Nicky," Warrick soothed as he stood back up, immediately brining his hands up to hold Nick's face. Thumbs stroking just below his eyes.

Hard as he tried to hold in the whimpier, though, it only made the sound worse when it forced its way out of him. Embarrassed, Nick squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made the tears fall at last. He didn't want to fall apart. It was all he seemed to be doing lately.

"C'mere, Nicky," Warrick murmured, drawing him into his arms. "It's just you and me here. "Ain't no one you gotta be strong for."

Nick burrowed his face against the side of Warrick's throat, his arms slipping around the taller man's back to clutch at his shoulders. He hated himself for being so clingy and needy, but he couldn't stop it no matter how hard he tried. Watching Warrick leave the room the very few times he had over the past few days had been a test of his will power. All of his instincts screamed for Warrick to come back, but he had to swallow the urge to cry out each time. Each time it had been very close.

"Sorry I keep doing this," Nick mumbled once he was sure he could talk without his voice cracking too badly. "I keep ruining your shirts."

Warrick's low chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations oddly soothing. "Hardly. They're shirts, they get wet all the time. Better tears than sweat anyway."

Nick's own laugh had a wet sound to oit, but he finally managed to lean back enough to meet Warrick's eyes. "That would require you doing some actual work in the gym."

Warrick pretended to look offended, shaking his head slightly. "That's just harsh, man. Just because I don't live off protein shakes like a certain someone else in the room…."

"So is that the way it's gonna be now?"

"You started it, buddy, not me."

Nick scoffed at the idea, but otherwise kept quiet. He was feeling normal and didn't want to do anything that would destroy that.

"I have the wheelchair for you, Mr. Stokes."

Startling at the sound of the nurse's voice, it was all that Nick could do not to jump away from Warrick. He'd managed to forget that they were still in the hospital and not off somewhere just the two of them. Nick was seriously contemplating asking Warrick to take them to his place so that they could avoid his family. As much as he loved them, Nick was feeling smothered by them. He felt like he had to keep strong for them because whenever he'd start to panic they'd tear up which would just set him off.

"Let's get you out of here, Nicky," Warrick said quietly, waiting for Nick to pull away before taking a step back. Warrick kept one hand hovering lightly against the small of his back, ready to offer support if his steps wavered.

As much as he hated the idea of being wheeled out, Nick was grateful for the wheelchair because he honestly wasn't certain how long he could keep standing. It made no sense to him because what had happened hadn't been that physically traumatic. It shouldn't have left him feeling so exhausted all of the time.

"How'd you manage to talk your mom into letting me take you home?" Warrick asked as they waited for the elevator.

"Told her that my fridge was empty."

Which was the truth. What was equally true, but never voiced, was that he didn't like how she kept chasing Warrick away. Every time she guilted Warrick into leaving—which had really only been two times –it took everything left in him not to shout at Warrick to stay. He may not have been too coherent at the time, but he knew that Grissom had tried to make Warrick leave him when the box was still closed. Grissom hadn't been able to make Warrick leave and neither should his mother. He needed Warrick to stay.

A thumb began massaging the base of his skull. Nick leaned back into it, his eyes drifting shut. That simple touch was enough to distract him from everything else. There was only the slow circles Warrick was making on the back of his neck, massaging muscles he hadn't even realized were tense.

A few seconds later it took all of Nick's concentration to remain on that when the elevator doors opened and a group of people streamed into the small space that had before only contained him and Warrick. He'd never been claustrophobic in the past, but as he and Warrick were forced into one of the back corners of the elevator it was all Nick could do to keep his breathing even and not start to panic.

It wasn't even thirty seconds that the elevator was crowded, but it felt much longer to Nick. He could only be grateful that there were no stops on other floors. He couldn't stop the slight whimper that passed his lips when the doors began to slide shut before he and Warrick reached them. Rationally he knew that it was a timed mechanism, but in that instant all that Nick could register was that he was being locked in a small space again.

"What do you say we grill up some burgers at your place," Warrick suggested as he leaned forward to stab at the button that would stop the elevator doors from closing. "Get some real protein in ya."

"Just don't burn them this time," Nick said, the brief chuckle that followed sounding strained even to his ears. He knew Warrick had caught it too even if he didn't comment on it. He just let the conversation flow as it would.

As soon as they were outside, Nick marveled at being outdoors once again. It felt at least half a lifetime since he'd last been out in the sun—maybe longer –when it had really only been three days. Four at the most. It was unnerving to think that so much had happened in such a short amount of time.

"I feel like I'm ninety years old," Nick groaned as he levered himself out of the wheelchair with Warrick's help.

"Moving like it too, buddy."

Nick attempted to scowl at him, but it was a wasted effort. Instead he shook his head briefly, all the while hanging onto Warrick for support as they walked the short distance to his truck.

In a way, Nick was glad it was Warrick who was taking him home. They'd both seen each other at their worst so Nick didn't feel embarrassed around him like he did everyone else. It was easier that way. He didn't have to pretend anything around Warrick which was a relief. He could just break apart if he needed to and Warrick wouldn't think anything of it. Or think anything of the fact that he all but pleaded with the other man to open the windows rather than turn the air on despite the mid-afternoon heat.

"Any idea how long your family's sticking around?" Warrick asked about halfway through the drive.

Nick fiddled with one of the velcro straps on the brace he wore on his right hand, having sprained it when he landed hard on the ground in the nursery. "Hopefully they'll head home over the weekend. They've put their lives on hold long enough."

The gentle squeeze to his knee caught him off guard. His fingers tightened briefly, but other than that Nick hoped he kept his surprise masked.

"They love you, Nicky. They just want to make sure you're okay," Warrick said, his thumb stroking the side of Nick's knee for a moment. "I can't think of anywhere I'd have been the past few days."

Even though he didn't say it, Nick was grateful as hell that Warrick had stayed at the hospital with him most of the time. The few times he had left (under the pretense of showering or getting a change of clothes, though Nick knew better), Warrick had made sure that he was awake before leaving. Nervous as he was those few times Warrick left, it was easier to wake up and find him back than to wake up and find him gone. Nick didn't know what he'd do when Warrick returned home now that he was out of the hospital. He didn't want to wake up by himself, but he didn't want to ask Warrick to stay. Warrick had already gone above and beyond and Nick didn't want to impose any longer.

"What happened with Tina?" Nick asked suddenly as the last conversation he'd had with Warrick at the lab slipped into his mind.

Warrick waved off the question. "Don't worry 'bout it. There's more important things going on right now."

Nick ducked his head down even though Warrick was looking straight ahead at the road. They stayed silent for the rest of the ride, the radio the only sound in the vehicle. It was a comfortable silence, though. For a few years now he and Warrick had been able to just sit and not say anything without things getting awkward. It was a good thing. Especially over the past few days. Now it was almost as though he needed Warrick around to be calm.

Though it had been less than four days since he'd been home Nick felt strange when Warrick parked his truck in one of the building's visitor spots. Alien as he still felt in his own skin, he was home. It was strange, almost frightening to realize, that after everything that had happened he was finally home. He could sleep in his own bed again.

Nick was still a little unsteady on his feet as he climbed out of the Denali, but not as bad as he'd been before. Without anyone watching, though, he was man enough to admit to it and allowed Warrick to support as they slowly made their way to the condo.

"Home sweet home," Warrick murmured as they stood in front of the door.

Since he'd given his mother the keys so that she could stock his fridge and clean up as she'd insisted on, Nick had to knock on his own front door just to get in. For reasons that he couldn't figure out that made Nick feel uneasy. It was almost as though it wasn't even his home that he was returning to. Almost like being back in Texas but for Warrick's arm wrapped around his waist for support.

"This should probably be the other way round, should it?" his eldest sister grinned as she opened the door. Of all his siblings, she was the only one still in Vegas, the rest having to return for work obligations.

Nick's lips twitched in a brief smile as he slipped past her and into his home. He reluctantly pulled away from Warrick, wanting to be moving under his own steam when he saw his mother. He didn't need to give her more reason to fuss over him. When he wavered momentarily, Warrick silently crossed behind him and placed a hand on the small of Nick's back to steady him as he went to put the bag of gifts down on the table near the door. The timing of it was perfect because as soon as Warrick stepped away his mom entered from the bedroom.

"I was beginning to worry about you," his mother cooed as she hurried forward to gather him in her arms.

Nick tried to steel himself as best as he could, but still flinched as she got too close too quickly. He stumbled back a few steps, all but crashing into Warrick.

"Easy there, man," Warrick said in the same instant his mom cried, "Nick, are you all right?"

Nick stood with his head bowed, struggling to catch his breath. He felt like an idiot for being scared of his own mother, but she had been moving too fast. His instincts had screamed at him that he was being attacked and that he needed to get away.

"Come on, Nicky, let's get you to the couch. You look about ready to drop," Warrick said, breaking the uncomfortable silence and gently steering Nick towards the livingroom. "The only reason the doc let me spring you so soon was because I promised I'd make sure you rested."

"I'm sure that you have other things to do, Mr. Brown. I'm quite certain that we can look after Nick now."

The words hadn't even died in the air and Nick could feel himself tensing. He didn't want Warrick to leave yet.

"Leave the man be, Gilly," his father interrupted. "If Pancho wants him to go he'll say something."

Nick cast his father a grateful look as he sunk down on the sofa. He knew that his mother was just being protective because of what had happened, but she didn't need to protect him from Warrick. Warrick was the one person he knew would never hurt him. Warrick had stayed in the hole with him even though it might have meant blowing up too.

"There's some soup heating, I should go check on it," his mother said stiffly before leaving the room.

With a sigh, Cisco slumped into the recliner. "Don't mind your mother. Give her a few days and she'll be over this whole mama bear thing. It'll be easier once we get you back to Texas."

"Texas?" Nick squeaked, staring at his father with wide eyes.

"What are you talking about? Nick's staying in Vegas," Warrick added, his voice a lot stronger than Nick's then.

"After everything that's happened I think it's in Nick's best interest to come home for a visit. It'll give him a chance to get his priorities straight."

Cisco was making it sound like the most logical thing in the world, but the thought of leaving Vegas had Nick trembling. He didn't want to leave his home. He had to get used to being in his own skin again and he couldn't do that in Texas. All he'd be doing in Texas was hiding.

"I can't go with you, Cisco," Nick managed to croak out at last. "I need to stay here. I don't want him to chase me from my home."

"He's not chasing you if you're leaving to get better."

Nick glanced at Warrick briefly out of the corner of his eye then shook his head. Even if Warrick wouldn't think less of him for running back to Texas, Nick would. Nigel Crane hadn't sent him packing and neither would Walter Gordon.

"I have all your stuff packed, sweetheart," his mother said as she reentered the livingroom with a bowl of soup and a sandwich on a tray Nick didn't remember owning.

"I'm not going back with you and Cisco," Nick told her, unable to meet her eyes as he spoke. He didn't want to disappoint her even though she'd left him no choice in the matter. "This is my home and I'm not going anywhere."

She pursed her lips then and Nick wished on everything that he could be hiding in the kitchen with his sister. "Nick, sweetheart, I know that you've become fond of Las Vegas, but it's not your home. Your home is in Dallas with the rest of your family."

"What about my family here?"

"They're the ones who let this happen to you."

Warrick, who had kept out o fit so far, leapt to his feet then. "Now wait one minute! No way did we let this happen to Nick. Every one of us would have traded places with him if we could."

"But you didn't!"

"We didn't know what was going to happen. It was a trash run. The only reason Nick was there was because he lost the coin toss."

"Stop, please."

"How very diplomatic of you."

"Look, I know that you're upset—"

"You don't know anything!"

"Stop."

"—but you have no right to judge me or the rest of the lab. We all love Nicky."

"So you sent him out alone?"

"He's a grown man and a CSI level three. He doesn't need coddling."

"Then why are you still here? This is a family matter."

"I'm here—"

"STOP!"

Grateful as he was that the shouting had stopped between Warrick and his mother, Nick felt unnerved by all the attention he was receiving. All eyes in the room were on him and Nick wanted nothing more than to disappear into the sofa. It was a relief when Warrick slumped down next to him on the sofa; close enough that Nick could lean against him without it looking obvious.

"Sorry 'bout that," Warrick apologized, wiping a hand over his forehead. "I didn't mean to lose my temper like that."

"S'all right," Nick mumbled, leaning even further into Warrick.

This time he didn't care what his parents thought. He wanted Warrick there and Warrick was staying.