AN: This is my take on what happens after the season finale. While I don't refer directly to anything that takes place in the finale, you may get an inference of what happens. Also, the story is centered around the person who is put in peril so if you don't want to know what happens DO NOT READ FURTHER.
I have written this as a one off chapter but have not ruled out the possibility of adding more at a later date as it comes to me.
I hope you enjoy and would ask that you leave a review if you liked it. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Returning to Work
Nick eased his car into a vacant space in the car park of the crime lab. He turned off the engine and lights and just sat. This was his first night back since it happened.
Six months had passed.
He could feel his anxiety levels rising, had been since he pulled out of his driveway, but he refused to let this flare into a full blown panic attack. He had them under control now. Well mostly.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Breath in.. two .. three.. four… and out.. two… three… four. He continued this until he felt more controlled. 'I can't do this,' he thought to himself and leant his head against his back rest.
Everyone was inside, he just knew it. It had been decided between himself, his therapist and Director Ecklie that he would return to work tonight, back on graveyard. Word would have been spread and everyone would be waiting for him to walk through those doors. There would be hugs, kisses and no doubt tears. That, however, wasn't what was worrying him.
What was worrying him was all his new found phobias and the inevitable panic attacks that followed. It was amazing what he was scared of now. Some were obvious and made sense, others, no sense what so ever.
There was the fear of the dark, not dark like this with the car park lights streaming some light onto his dash, but the pitch black, when you can't see your hand in front of your face, or when you didn't know up from down. Just the thought of it was making his breathing speed up again. He had to sleeep with a lamp on now. His room had always been dark, necessary for a shift worker, and waking up in the middle of the night was like being there again. Darkness surrounding him, not knowing where he was… his screams would pierce the night and he would lose himself until whoever came running managed to calm him down, tell him he was safe and not alone. Usually it was his mom, or Sara but sometimes it wasWarrick or Catherine, even Grissom was there one night. He never asked why.
Another fear was that of green lights. He had been driving at night for the first time in months and when the light turned green, he just sat there. He wasn't sure how long but the driver behind him ended up walking up to him and knocking on his window and yelling at him that he had been blasting his horn at him for ages, "What the fuck's wrong with you you moron!" he had yelled. He apologised and driven off leaving the baffled driver glaring and yelling obsenities in his wake. He found that by not looking directly at the lights but being able to see them out of the corner of his eye, he could control it.
He also found out that night that he didn't like the interior car light either. He had pulled up outside Sara's apartment building then the light came on without any warning. He quickly realised that it was just Sara jumping into the car, but the fact he had no control on theway it came on and off made his heart speed up. He made surethat light was always off after that.
Silence sent shivers up his spine. Complete sound deprivation is rare, thankfully, but it is still out there. Even now, it would be called quite but there was still noise; a car engine starting, a plane over head, even a dog barking. It is when there isn't a sound that it overtakes him. Part of his therapy was exercising and part of that was swimming. He loves to swim, has done it since he was a small kid. All was going well, he had done 10 laps, muscles were relaxing, breathing regular and strong. Then he decided to roll over and float on his back, placing his ears just under the surface of the water. There was little noise at the aquatic center as it was, very few people around and no one else in the pool at this stage, peaceful if you like. But when his ears when under, there was silence, deathly silence, silence he hadn't experienced since that night.
The panic attack hit quickly and dangerously, fear enveloped him like a death shroud. He can't remember what happened next but when he came back to reality he was out of the side of the pool on his side and Sara was leaning over him, fully clothed and dripping wet.
He later found out that Sara, who had been there to keep him company before she went to work, had been reading and heard him scream. When she looked up and he was sinking to the bottom of the pool. After he didn't resurface she jumped in, clothes and all and dragged him to the surface. One of the other people at the pool helped her drag him out and they pressed the water from his lungs. Once the water was expelled he had taken breaths of his own and woken up. Sara didn't know whether to hit him or hug him.
As a consequence, swimming was now a phobia.
He found a new one everyday. He was shopping with Sara a few months after he had been found; she had dragged him out of his house and to the nearest mall. They were browsing through night wear section when the back of his hand brushed against a satin night dress. Instantly he was back there, the store ceased to exist and he was alone and scared, entombed again, unable to move. Sara, noticing his state, came to him and held him tight. She continued to whisper in his ear and talked to him, calming him down, not wanting this to develop any further. Slowly reality came back. Tears started streaming down his face and sobs escaped him. Dropping her would be purchases; and avoiding the other shoppers stares and offers of assistance; she led him out and took him home. It took another two months to get him back into a shopping center.
The smell of new turned earth made him sick to the stomach. He had been lying in bed one day and his mother had slipped outside to do some gardening. He had always maintained a neat and tidy yard and while it wasn't worthy of the cover of Better Homes & Gardens, it was nice. Sadly it had become a little neglected during his recuperation, so his mother decided that while he was sleeping she would get into some weeds before they got out of hand.
The smell had wafted into his window and at first he kind of enjoyed it, knowing he was safe at home, his mom was there to look after him, things actually feeling like they were getting back to normal. Then the nausea hit him, slowly at first, then stronger until he was rushing from his bed to the bathroom and vomiting up his last meal. He and his Doctor had worked on that one and while he could no not describe the smell as pleasant, it no longer sent him to the bathroom. Well, not every time.
But still, even with these new phobias, his time to return to work had come.
His first few months of recovery were a blur. He had been placed on strong medication to try and keep him calm so he really doesn't remember much of it. Then his medication was reduced and things became a little clearer. But then the nightmares had started. They were so intense that he refused to go to sleep. Refused to relive what happened, not only the most recent event, but other things too. He was regularly visited by Nigel Crane, Kristy Hopkins and Caroline, that baby sitter. All of them came to him and reminded him of his past tortures.
Eventually, after 5 straight days of not one wink of sleep, Sara finally talked him into laying down with her. "Just lie down, that's all I am asking, please," she had begged. He could see her face now, lined with worry, tears brimming, his mother standing behind her nodding her head to try and encourage him. He had given in. She had led him into his bedroom and turned on the light beside his bed, then she had taken him into her arms and held him.
He had held onto her like a lifeline, too scared to fall asleep, yet to tired to stay awake. Eventually, he knew he had lost the battle and he started to drift off. "Don't leave me alone," had had asked Sara, just before sleep took over his body. And she didn't. It was thirteen hours later that he awoke and there she was, in exactly the same position, holding him and telling him it was ok and he was safe. And for the first time in months, he actually believed it.
She smiled at him when she realized he was awake, "I really need to go to the toilet now." He laughed. It sounded strange to he ears. He hadn't heard that sound in a long time. She continued to stay with him after that, he would sleep when she finished work and they could be together. He felt safe with her. Eventually he learnt to sleep alone again.
His mother had finally returned home about a month ago. As much as he loved her and was grateful for all that she had done for him during his recovery, her constance presence was starting to get on his nerves. He managed to keep his tongue to himself afer discussing his feelings with his doctor. He reminded Nick that his mother had been through something traumatic too, "You have to remember Nick, she almost lost a child. You were practically dead. You have to give her time to come to terms with the fact that you are OK. She needs to be here as much as you need her to be here." After that he no longer snapped at her or pulled out of her embrace.
But it was Sara who had been his anchor. His mother and friends played no small party but… he couldn't have gotten through it without Sara. That was one of the main reasons that he was returning to graveyard and not swing shift. Not because Grissom was a better supervisor and not as a form of pusnishment for Catherine, but because Sara would be there. Both he and his Doctor thought that this would be the best option.
He knew Sara had come to feel more deeply for him. They had spoken only last week. She was glad he was getting better and felt it was time that they explored what was happening between them now that he was stronger. But he had said no. Not because he didn't feel the same way, he did… he really did. But he also knew that she had been holding a torch for someone else for years. Though he in no way doubted her feelings for him, he was concerned that she might be suffering a bit of Florence Nightingale syndrome, and once she came to realize that, he worried her attention would be drawn back to her original object of desire.
"I do love you Sara and there is nothing I would love more than to know you loved me too, but I am not strong enough emotionally to deal with that if it happened. Not yet."
She had nodded her head. She understood. "I wish I could assure you that it won't happen but I understand. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. When you are strong enough I will be here. I promise." They had sat together after that, holding hands, her head on his shoulder, his head resting on hers. Even thought they had never shared anything more intimate than a samll kiss, he felt closer to this woman than any woman before.
A tap on the window of his car bought him out of his revere. He wound down his window and returned the smile he saw plastered on Sara's face.
"What are you doing sitting out here, we have cake waiting for you." She said as she lent on the window and poked her head in the cab.
"Just getting my thoughts together. I'm still not sure this is a good idea." He looked down, he could feel the burn just behind his eyes, tears threatening to spill over.
She reached in and took his hand. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, but I really think you can. I know this is going to be overwhelming but I will not leave your side. I promise." She squeezed his hand and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Come on inside and see your friends. Youcan leave anytime you want to, OK."
Taking a deep breath he steadied his nerves and nodded. "OK, let's do it."
Stepping back Sara let Nick get out of the car. Hand in hand they headed in. This would not be the end. They both knew that. But it was another step in the long, long process of his recovery.