A/N: The author of this work does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). CSI:Crime Scene Investigation is the property of CBS
Special thanks to Smokey, my brilliant beta reader.
This one-shot takes place immediately after the events of 9x16 'Turn Turn Turn'. There may or may not be a sequel, I don't know yet. Comments and reviews would be wonderful to receive.
A Time to Weep
Nick's emptiness consumed him. Heartache and sorrow were as tangible as a black pit opening at his feet. Weary, he could only slump on his couch as his depression raged around him, a storm threatening to push him into the abyss.
"What happened?"
He couldn't get her voice out of his head. She had asked the question, lively, curious and innocent. In a way she had reminded him of his younger self. She possessed that innate curiosity that produced an insatiable thirst for knowledge. That same thirst had driven him to become a CSI. He was committed to the never ending search for truth, to answering the age old question.
"What happened?"
They were the two most important words in his career. They summed up his job and were the reason he spent so many nights in the field or in the lab. Working on a case, running tests, and writing reports meant long hours with little sleep. He worked double shifts, sometimes even triples, all so he could answer the question. It was why he devoted so much time to research, reading all the latest journals and attending lectures and conferences.
Nick felt his heart clench, tears welling in his eyes. In a way the question described the very essence of his self. It was a vital part of who he was. Answering the question was his purpose in life.
"What happened?"
He had failed. Nick choked back a sob while a single tear poised on his eyelid before trickling gently down his face. He had failed and an innocent girl was dead. Her lifeless eyes had stared at nothing. At him. He had failed.
His breath caught in his throat as the first wracking sob shook him. He squeezed his eyes shut, dislodging the tears so they streamed down his cheeks. Wrapping his arms around his stomach he rocked back and forth, unable to contain the sorrow.
"What happened?"
Though her eyes were dead it seemed they were still asking the question she would never know the answer to. Those eyes would haunt him with their confusion, their accusation. Shaking his head he wanted to apologise, to say he was sorry, but how could he apologise to a ghost?
Nick wept. He wept for the loss of innocence, for the chance a young life would never have to grow, to be happy, to continue thirsting for truth, hungering for knowledge. A young life that would never have a chance to love or to be loved in return.
Her innocence was gone, her life now lost. She had been ripped away from this earth through no fault of her own save that she had been born.
Through his storm of tears Nick cast about him for a cushion, holding it close to his body as he wept. He lay on his side, curling in on himself. Suddenly it seemed as though he was nine years old again, sobbing his heart out into his pillow.
"What happened?"
His mother had stood in the doorway of his bedroom as he cried, confused and ashamed. When he didn't answer she had come to sit beside him, brushing his unruly mop of hair away from his forehead. At her touch he had surged up and wrapped his skinny arms around her neck. Still sobbing he buried his face in her hair and whispered his secret.
Her arms had tightened around him and she had cried with him then. They grieved together for the loss of his innocence, for evil had touched their world. He hadn't known at the time, but his mother was crying for shame too. She had failed.
He had regained some of his innocence in the years following, a love and respect for life that he held onto after his own ordeal. That innocence had been tested many times. A gun held to his head, a fall out a window, a plexiglass coffin and an army of fire ants. Even the death of his friend had tested that reserve of inner strength.
He had come through each test with a renewed determination to make the most of life. To love life.
"What happened?"
Why was it so different this time? Why was his heart breaking now? Why was it shattering into a million pieces he wasn't sure he could put back together? Balling up his fist he punched the sofa beneath him in a surge of anger that flowed through the tears.
He hadn't seen the threads connecting the cases, hadn't dug deep enough, hadn't looked hard enough. He had blithely gone through each case taking everything at face value like he hadn't learned countless times that nothing was as it seemed. He had assumed the easy answers were the right ones.
He had been arrogant, conceited, convinced of his infallibility, and an innocent life was the price. Nick berated himself, grinding his face into the sofa as he grimaced, clutching even tighter to the cushion. He couldn't breathe so great was the pain, his very soul seemed to throb with sorrow so that he keened, long and low as he gave voice to his anguish.
"What happened?"
Nick knew he had lost a part of himself in grief. That curious, innocent young self he had harboured and protected for so many years was gone. It had died with the innocent girl he had failed to protect.
As dawn approached with the soft creeping light of a new day Nick wept on. The yawning black pit of grief widened, dragging him into its depths as he wept.
He wept for her. He wept for their innocence, their shared curiosity, their hunger for truth. He wept for his failure, his ineptitude. He wept for lost chances and dreams that would never now come true.
He wept.
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