Title: End of the Nightmare

Disclaimer: CSI does not belong to me… although, if someone is willing to share….

Spoilers: Direct spoilers to "Grave Danger", but anything up to that is fair game.

Summary: A post-ep to "Grave Danger": Catherine's thoughts on one of the most hellish nights she's seen. Snickers, because I just can't help it.

A/N: This took me forever to think of a title, and forever to decide how I want to format this. It was originally a multi-chapter story, but I changed it so it's a one-shot. A very long one-shot :D I'm planning a companion to it from Sara's PoV, and that's almost done so I'm very excited about that as well. And, Lin, as promised, here's a little plug for you: ahem Everyone should check out Qtpil13 because she's totally awesome! Now, on to the story:

(Catherine's PoV)

It was hard on all of us. Especially Nicky, of course, but watching him…knowing there was nothing we could do. It almost killed us; I can't even begin to imagine what Nick was going though. It got to all of us.

Warrick, of course, had some sort of survivor's guilt; he must have kept thinking "It could have been me". He thought, he thinks, it's his fault…that that coin toss could have gone either way. He was frustrated and pissed and scared. We all were. But Warrick… I talked to him. He said he didn't know how Nick was holding out so long. He said if it was him and the gun was there… its bad enough that Nicky was down there, but then Warrick started to fall apart on us and we all started to panic a bit... it shook him hard.

It was no question as to whether or not Warrick ride with nick in the ambulance when we finally found him. He needed to be there, and no one begrudged him that. And I went with them. I went as a supervisor and a friend, but mostly just as someone who cared about Nick. Someone who needed to see him calm and breathing and alive.

The ride was mostly quiet; the wail of the sirens provided a throbbing background noise, and, aside from gentle reassuring whispers, we were each content to let out minds wander.

I though about who would've ridden with Nick if I hadn't. Grissom? Maybe, but Grissom had stay behind for now, and deal with Ecklie. He had confessed to me before this…whole thing that he was planning on approaching Ecklie to as for a reversal of the shift split. Now would be the best time, when Ecklie finally seemed human, and in the long run, what could be better for Nick than once again being surrounded by our little family? Grissom had to stay.

And Nick was…I was his supervisor. Thinking back, I suppose it was just another way to remind myself I was a supervisor. It was selfish, but I need to see Nicky just as much as I needed to assert my authority.

We were just pulling into the hospital when Nick spoke. It pained me; his voice was weak and laced with pain. His eyes were closed, and never will I forget how he looked when he spoke; angry red welts and bites covered him, he was all but drenched in a cold sweat, and his lips were chapped and cracked. Somehow, he managed to choke out:

"Is she coming?"

The ambulance had pulled up to emergency room entrance. I heard the EMTs get out of the front, racing around to the back of the vehicle as I frantically wracked my brain. "She who?" I thought, settling on the obvious: his mother.

The doors were flung open; Warrick and I were motioned out of the ambulance as Nick was transferred onto a stretcher. I wasn't sure, at first, whether or not he heard me; "Your mom and dad are on their way."

He must have heard, I decided as Warrick and I jogged alongside him as he was being wheeled though those huge automatic doors. His eyes still closed, creating a pained expression, he shook his head 'no'.

"Who else?" I thought. The hospital was a blur as we sped by; nurse's faces bed into the sterile white walls from our speed and all I could focus on was the feeling that the best thing I could do for Nick was to answer his question.

Warrick, who had, up to this point, been quiet, spoke just loud enough for Nick to hear, "If Grissom doesn't stop her."

This seemed to be the answer Nick was looking for; his face relaxed and his eyes fluttered open. "She won't let him" he whispered to the ceiling, and something in his voice gave me the feeling that he needed to believe it with every fiber of his being.

And, for being a CSI, I couldn't figure out who they were talking about. It was as if a thick fog had clouded my mind; the answer was there, but it was hidden somewhere behind the fact that Nick had just been buried alive.

We were running down a bustling hallway now, seeming to head for two large swinging doors. In rooms off to the side I could make out figures of patients; people with casts and gauze, people huddled under thin hospital blankets. Even now I couldn't help but wonder how many of their names I'd find waiting for me in the form of new cases back at the lab.

The lab!

It had only been a fraction of a second since Nick spoke, but it seemed like hours. How could I have missed this? Could they really be talking about –?

I looked over just in time to see Warrick shake his head solemnly, his mouth forming the word "no" just as Nick was wheeled through the doors. Warrick and I were held back by two orderlies. We couldn't go any further.

Warrick caught my eye and gestured silently at a row of uncomfortable-looking plastic seats. I nodded, and as we walked over I asked;

"Was he talking about Sara?"

My only answer was a silent and defeated shrug, which I assumed I was to take as an affirmative. It was then I noticed; Warrick's eyes were so hollow and sad.

I could tell then, in more ways then one, things were going to change.

We weren't allowed to see Nick for a long time, and once again, like in the ambulance, Warrick and I were each lost in our own train of thoughts.

If I had to guess, I'd think Warrick was trying to resolve some of his guilt, but if his stooped posture or silent demeanor were any indication, I'd saw it wasn't working.

I thought about Nick and Sara.

In a way, it explained some things. Like how Sara reacted to that live feed. We were all…shocked, scared, torn. We all felt for Nicky. But two peoples' reactions, now that I had time to think on it, went beyond that: Warrick's and Sara's.

Warrick's face was etched with guilt and with worry. His eyes were focused on the image of a frantic Nick and he was forced into realizing that could have been him down there. Warrick's face was full of disbelief and pain.

But Sara's face just…collapsed. She just fell apart completely. She tried to hide it, I could tell, but her lower lip was quivering and her eyes became moist with unshed tears. She couldn't bear to watch that screen, but she couldn't bear not to. It was as if someone sucker punched her and left her gasping for breath.

And it wasn't just then, I remember. Later on, Sara met a teary-eyed Mrs. Stokes in the lab. I watched from down the hallway as the two seemed to talk. And then I saw something I've never witnessed before: Sara cried.

Whatever Mrs. Stokes told her, it made Sara just lose it. She broke down, and I watched unbelievingly as Mrs. Stokes pulled Sara in for an impromptu hug. No one else saw but me; no one but them know, and I plan on keeping it that way. I just wish I knew what she said.

And there was the interview Brass and Sara had with Kelly Gordan. Brass told me afterwards in passing that somewhere in there, Nick had gone from "a missing CSI" to "Nick", and that caught me by surprise. Sara prided herself on her professionalism; she'd never let a case upset her so much as to tip of a suspect to the fact that the case could be personal. But she did.

It was really Sara that found him; even through all the worry and pain she was feeling, that we all were feeling, she kept a cool head. "Nick is here"…her words rang in my head, replaying over and over. Why hadn't I heard the emotion in her voice; the fatigue of working around the clock and the desperation of Nick's situation coursing through her words, but beyond that, a surging relief that we now knew where he was?

I was jostled out of my thoughts by Warrick's voice: "Catherine…"

I raised my head to look at him, but he just jerked his head towards the end of the hallway. I followed his gaze; following an exhausted but relieved Judge and Mrs. Stokes was…

Sara.

She almost collapsed into the seat next to me as Nick's parents lowered themselves into the empty chairs next to Warrick. From this close I could see that her eyes were tinted pink around the edges, and slightly swollen: she'd been crying again. Her posture screamed how tired she was, and I couldn't help but ask if she was ok as she rested her head against the wall behind us, closing her eyes.

"I'm ok, Catherine" she sighed, not even bothering to open her eyes.

I knew she was lying, but didn't push. Instead I just turned my attention towards the nurse who'd just bustled out of the doors Nick had been raced through. That seemed like ages ago.

We could go in, she told us. Two at a time. Judge Stokes stood up at once, pushing himself off his seat and extending his hand to his wife. But Mrs. Stokes just sat there, before turning towards Warrick. She laid a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, causing Warrick to meet her gaze.

"I'll be right out, dear. I'm sure Nick will want to see you."

Warrick's eyes flashed, and Sara's opened. Mine were focused on Nick's mother as she seemed to direct her gaze at Sara. Was it my imagination or did a flicker of a smile form on Mrs. Stokes lips?

"All of you."

Then, with a small smile in Sara's general direction, she accepted her husband's hand. The pair followed the nurse through the swinging doors to see their son.

True to her word, Mrs. Stokes returned not ten minutes later, dabbing at her eyes with a rumpled tissue. She stood in front of Warrick and with a watery smile said, "You can go on in."

Warrick stood, head lowered before he looked up, eyes level with hers. Never before have I heard the words "Thank you" uttered with such genuine emotion. Mrs. Stokes took Warrick's vacant seat as he walked to the doors.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Sara follow Warrick's retreating form until the doors swung shut behind him. This seemed to shake her from her thoughts; she got up and sighed. "I'll be right back" she announced to no one in particular before heading towards the restrooms at the other end of the hall.

Mrs. Stokes tutted next to me; I turned to see her shaking her head sadly. "She needs to take better care of herself, the dear. She looks ready to collapse. Skinny as a wire…she doesn't get much sleep, does she?"

It took me a moment to realize she expected and answer. After casting a glance towards the bathrooms to make sure Sara wasn't in earshot, I sighed and admitted to a worried-looking Mrs. Stokes, "I don't think so…Sara's pretty independent. She can take care of herself, she just -"

"Doesn't" Mrs. Stokes supplied. I nodded, watching as a small frown formed on the woman's lips.

"Mrs. Stokes, can I ask you something?" I questioned, leaning forward in my chair a bit as Mrs. Stokes patted my arm in a motherly fashion.

"Go right ahead."

I was about to speak when Sara emerged for the bathrooms, walking over to return to her seat next to me. I swallowed my question, shaking my head. "Never mind" I said, as Sara sat down.

"Whatever you say, dear" Mrs. Stokes shrugged, before sighing and rubbing the bridge of her nose. But was it my imagination or did she shoot me one very knowing glance before doing so?

What had I been thinking? I had been ready to ask this woman, whose son was lying in a hospital bed after being kidnapped and buried alive, whether or not she knew Nick had asked for Sara. Or if she knew why. Whether she knew how he felt about her, or visa versa. So I was curious as to whether or not one of them had finally acted on all of the unspoken sexual tension between them; I couldn't believe I'd been about to bring it up here, now.

Was becoming morbidly curious (or at least admittedly more so than usual) my way of coping with this? Warrick's was to brood; to sit and feel guilty. Sara's was…burying it somewhere inside her, so that all she would show was a mask, void of emotions. She was nervous though; I could tell because she kept wringing her hands. I don't think she even knew she was doing it. Mrs. Stokes seemed as if she was coping fairly well; her worry for Nick evident, but perhaps she found a distraction in motherly habits, commenting on Sara's well-being for one. Judge Stokes, I thought, shouldered the load with a hardened resolve and stiff jaw.

But now was neither the time nor place for my sudden fascination with a relationship between two people that I couldn't even be sure was real.

"Did you girls know," Mrs. Stokes broke the silence, sniffling a bit before continuing, "That when Nicky was seven, he wanted to live in a fort underground?"

Her voice startled me; I jumped in my seat, and noticed Sara had done the same. I held back a smile. "What happened to the good ol' tree fort?" I asked gently.

Mrs. Stokes let out a watery chuckle. "He figured if he lived underground he could build tunnels; under the house, under the stables. I caught him with a shovel, digging up my begonias. He told me that if he built his 'tunnel' by my flowers, he could pick one for me every day. Then he said the dirt was easier to dig in my flowerbed; he'd already tried in the yard. I didn't know whether to hug him or strangle him."

"Lindsey never wanted tunnels" I supplied quietly. Sara inhaled sharply, looking away as I continued. "Just a hole, straight through to China. I caught her one day; she'd dug a pretty big hole…in the neighbor's yard. She said she didn't want it in ours because I might fall through when she was finished."

"Sounds like you have a sweet child" Mrs. Stokes smiled and me, and I realized: somehow, swapping these innocent child stories made this whole situation seem a little less hellish.

Before I had the chance, Sara answered for me: "So do you, Mrs. Stokes."

Mrs. Stokes' expression softened, and I heard her mumble a small 'thank you' to Sara, who was still gazing in the other direction. I watched Nick's mother, catching her eye and nodding my agreement. She offered me a smile, before asking Sara, "What about you, dear? Any secret tunnels or forts in your family?"

I watched as Sara seemed to freeze upon Mrs. Stokes' question. She went rigid in her seat, her knuckles white as she clasped her hands together. She took a long time to answer, and when she did, the monotone voice emitted from her was one I didn't recognize:

"My family wasn't that close."

The silence that followed was an uncomfortable one; I think both Mrs. Stokes and I felt the sadness behind Sara's comment, but neither of us could explain, or ask Sara to. I was relieved when I saw a familiar face bounding down the hallway towards us.

"Greg" I smiled, standing to pull him into a hug. He looked out of breath; his cheeks were reddened and his breath heavy.

"Ran all the way up here" he panted, sitting next to Sara to catch his breath. "Traffic was a monster; got here as soon as I could. Hey Mrs. Stokes, Sara." He raised a hand in greeting and I couldn't help but smirk: he'd said all of that in one breath.

"Hey Greggo" Sara greeted him quietly.

"How's Nick?" he asked, suddenly all business.

"He's alive" Mrs. Stokes smiled warmly, sniffling a bit.

"That he is" I heard a chuckle. Nick's father flashed Greg a stiff grin as he and Warrick came through the swinging doors, taking seats by Mrs. Stokes. "And in good enough humor to complain about hospital food" Judge Stokes continued, sighing deeply.

Warrick shot me a look. "Two more can go in now, Cath."

"You ladies go ahead" Greg insisted when no one stood up. "I'll see him after you."

"Thanks, Greg" I heard Sara whisper to him before she stood up and followed me through the doors.

Nick looked much worse for the wear under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital; his bites seemed more red and agitated than they had during the ride over, but at least he didn't seem as pained as before.

Sara and I made our way over to him, Sara opting to stand by the side of his bed while I stood at the foot.

"How're you feeling, Nicky?" I asked with what I hoped was a comforting smile.

His bed groaned ad Nick shifted to a sitting position. He sighed before answering, "Better."

"You look better" Sara added quietly, her eyes locking with his. Her hand rested on the blanket, inches away from his.

"Thanks" he spoke softly, flexing his finger unconsciously.

"Greg's outside" I supplied, glad to see Nick smile at the news. "He'll want to see you."

"He can wait a little" Nick chuckled, still looking at Sara. "You guys just came in."

It was all I could do at this point not to roll my eyes; Nick and Sara seemed to forget I was even in the room. They couldn't tear their eyes off each other. I forced down a smug chuckle as I patted Nick's foot through the thin hospital blanket. "I think I'll go wait with him a bit."

"Ok, Cath" Nick smiled at me. I was almost out the door when:

"Hey Cath?"

"Yeah Nick?" I turned around.

"Thanks for coming with me…you know, when -"

I smiled at him and offered a small wave. "Don't worry about it, Nicky. You're welcome."

And as I stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind me with a soft click, I saw through the small pane of glass in the door that Nick's hand and Sara's were now clasped together, fingers laced, lying atop the blanket.

A/N: Wow, that took an unbelievably long time to type. But I think it was worth it, don't you? I'm really happy with how this one came out, so reviews (as always) are readily appreciated! And look for the companion to this in (hopefully) a few days.