DISCLAIMER: I do not own Nick Stokes or CSI. They are owned and operated by CBS.
Please dont' sue. You won't get much anyways.
Rating: M for violence and sexual content.
Pairing: Nick/Mandy
Synopsis: Sometimes life had to end before we learn our great lessons.
THE FIVE PEOPLE NICK STOKES MEETS IN HEAVEN
It might seem strange to start a story with an ending. But all endings are also beginnings. We just don't know it at the time.
Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven
As graveyard shift coroner, Doc Robbins shuffled through the halls of the Las Vegas morgue. He couldn't help but notice the deafening silence of the lab he just left after meeting with Dr. Langston. Save for the occasional spin of a centrifuge and the crash of a vile with a small curse following it, it was pretty much hush hugh in there. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he had never left the confines of the morgue.
The death of Warrick Brown and the departure of Gil Grissom had cast a grey pallor over the lab. The staff was zombie-like as they struggled to cope with the losses of such highly respected and loved individuals.
Dr. Langston and Riley Adams, the newest members of the team, had walked by him and smiled. The coroner liked these new folks. Riley was a young, snappy talker who brought humour back to the demoralized graveyard shift.
The elevators chimed as he walked out and continued his way down the hall. He pushed the doors open and noticed something odd. The light was out. Ears perked, he flipped the switch and his attention was caught by the sound of wheezing.
"Hello?" Doc Robbins called out. "Is anyone here?"
A whimper greeted his call and he followed the pants and cries for help. He stopped short.
Nick Stokes lay on his stomach. After many years, he recognized the man's broad shoulders and dark hair. One arm was laid in front of him and the other to his side. His head was to one side.
But what held the coroner's attention was the pool of blood that had formed underneath the prone body.
"Jesus Christ!" Doc looked around and made his way out of the room to safety, not missing the sound of Nick feebly calling for him twisting his heart painfully.
Thank God, Brass and Greg were headed his way as he hastily ran over as fast his prosthetic legs allowed him, which was damn fast, putting flesh and bone legs to shame.
"Nick! Stab wounds." Shock and horror had limited Doc's speech.
Pulling out his gun, the detective pushed the doors open and screamed, "Police, get your hands up." Greg followed but halted as he came upon the sight of Nick lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
"Greg, don't move!" Brass ordered as he moved through the morgue calling into his radio for EMTs to come here pronto, gun held high as he checked crevices and corners before nodding. "It's clear."
Doc and Greg raced to Nick's side. Doc turned him over gently, placing a finger on his throat. "Pulse is weak."
Nick was wearing a white coat, meaning he'd been planning to be there. His eyes were open as Greg leaned over. "Nick, can you hear me?" The CSI's white lab coat was soaked in blood.
"Fresh blood!" Doc called to Brass who scurried over. "This just happened! Grab some gauze off the counter there. I'm gonna try to stymie the blood flow. Doc pushed the lab coat aside and pulled the Texan's blue-striped shirt up out of his pants. "He's got a knife between the ribs!" he announced. "The EMTs better get here fast! Blood and air entry into his chest could lead to lung collapse." Doc's voice was tense, yet controlled as his focus was on saving a life, a dramatic change from his normal death-filled career.
Meanwhile, a distraught Greg looked into Nick's fear-filled brown eyes. "Hang in there! Don't go anywhere!" He told him while his mind screamed, "No! Not again! Please!"
Nick lifted up his hand slowly. Greg grabbed it, but Nick snatched it back, grunting and shoving his fingernails into Greg's face.
"Skin scrapings?" Greg asked. A moment of confusion cleared. "You got skin scrapings."
Nick coughed and nodded and then tried to speak. It came out in a sputter. "Uni…uni…br..."
"Uni...a uni? A cop?" Greg asked. Nick shook his head and grunted in pain.
Doc cursed. "Jesus…" He laid the gauze over the wounds. "Where the hell are they?!"
Prayers were answered as the EMTs burst through the door, one of them Wilcox, a young black man who'd been with Nick the night he had been brought out of his shallow grave. Now once again he was witness to another tragedy of Nick Stokes.
"How long ago did this happen?" Wilcox dove down on bended knees, stethoscope placed on the Texan's chest listening for a heartbeat.
"Given the freshness of the blood, it wasn't very long." Doc moved aside, allowing the EMTs to do their work.
"Nick, can you hear me?" Wilcox asked, flashing a light into his eyes while another went to work to assist in slowing the blood flow. "Hang in there, man, okay? Nick? Nick?!"
xxxXXxx
Here is where Nick Stokes' story begins or ends.
Nothing felt the same. Crime scenes didn't feel the same. The locker room didn't feel the same. The lab didn't feel the same.
It wasn't the same. He'd suffered three losses within a year. First his friend, or who he thought was his friend, was gone: Sara Sidle.
Some friend! She had left without saying goodbye to him. Nick would never forgive her for that. It was bad enough her whole world had become absorbed with Grissom. Even worse, she'd never even told him they were dating. How could she do that to him? Was he that untrustworthy?
Grissom had done the same thing. He expected that. That was just Grissom being Grissom.
Warrick Brown's death shattered him. Nick had never experienced such grief and pain in his life. It consumed him. He woke up day after day with it waiting for him, consuming him, chewing him up and spitting him out.
At work, he kept himself in professional mode. He was good at that. He knew how to compartmentalize his emotions. He'd had lots of practice.
Day after day, questions zoomed in and out of Nick's head like ravens dive bombing for him. Self reproach, self hatred, self blame.
Why?
And another one hovered like a fly around him.
Had I been there, would I have been shot too?
Finally all too consuming thought seared his soul.
It should have been me.
While he was trying to get a number off some waitress, his buddy was being gunned down by McKeen.
Now, no one ever mentioned it to him, and for what it was worth, the waitress took off before he even got the chance. While he was checking her out, she gave him a rather hostile look as if he was gangrene or something, and then he realized why. She was very young, probably too young for him.
He never let his age bother him before, but now as thought about it he was 37 years old, and that's too old for checking out waitresses who looked about 22 or 23.
With that thought, he'd left the restaurant.
Hours later, he was in a back alley watching his boss hold his best friend. Dead. Grissom had thrown Nick a hostile look as if to ask, "Where the hell were you?" before adopting a bereaved look.
After that, Nick's mind went immediately into case mode. Find the killer, and that was what held him together for the first period of grief he entered. What was the stage - shock? Yeah, but not shocked enough. It was obvious to him from the moment he saw the knuckle prints who the killer was. But evidence was still needed to support it.
Then the moment came when he held his gun on McKeen and every fibre of being wanted to finish the man…blow his fucking brains out of his head. And he fired. He fired and missed. Odd. Frightening.
Because he really intended to kill him.
xxXXxx
Pain. Unbearable pain.
Nick lay there, hearing voices around him. He held up his hand to the one that felt the most familiar to show him the skin scraping he managed to slice off his attacker.
Jesus. I just want to take one good breath! Just one good breath!
Nick opened his eyes and heard his name being called. A young boy with blue eyes and curly blonde hair dressed in jeans and a navy blue hoodie stood over him and held out his hands. Nick reached for them, and the boy helped him stand up and then led him away to the clouds in front of them.
Clouds of purple, blue, green, and pink surrounded him as he walked on. He didn't know where he was, but he knew he was somewhere. The pain was gone and he could breathe again.
He looked down at himself and saw that he wasn't wearing the same clothes as he was before he was stabbed. No. He was wearing black slacks and a polo shirt. Man, he hadn't dressed like that in years. Once Grissom came aboard, he was able to relax his attire and dress more informally.
So why was he in this outfit?
Then the clouds cleared and he looked up to see he was in Grissom's old office, the one he worked in before Brass's demotion. He looked around and saw a woman with brown curly hair sitting in a chair facing the desk.
"Where am I?" Nick asked as he looked down at the boy who looked so familiar, but he couldn't place him. Then he remembered: Chase Ryan, the young boy who was found on a bus bench outside a laundry mat. Poor kid was killed by his best friend who shoved him into a dryer and put a kazillion coins in and left him to shake and bake.
The boy smiled and said, "Heaven."
"Chase!" Nick blurted out and reached toward him.
Chase grinned. "Thanks for solving my murder, Nick. My friend, Andy…well, he didn't mean it. He was screwed up."
With those words, Chase vanished.
Slowly turning around, Nick peered closely at the woman and walked toward her. Rolling a tongue around his lips he finally managed to speak. "Hello?"
The woman turned her head slowly and looked at him, and Nick immediately recognized her. "Holly Gribbs."
Holly smiled and stood up and walked over to him. "Hello, Nick."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was sent to greet you." She looked around. "Of all places to be?"
"Yeah, that kid said I was in Heaven?" Nick gestured to the young lad who led him to Grissom's office.
"Yep." Holly nodded. "Welcome, Nick."
"Welcome to where?"
"Heaven."
Nick laughed. "Yeah, right. I'd have to be…" His laughter stopped abruptly and then he realized. "No, I'm not dead."
Holly faced him. "You are dead, Nick."
Silence fell between them as purple and blue mist surrounded them.
Nick gripped his stomach with his hand sat down on the chair Holly had vacated. "Fuck!"
"Yeah. I know." Holly sat on Grissom's desk. "When you first realize it, you don't want to believe it."
"God. Warrick, me…" Nick breathed and placed his head in his hands. "Damn." Then he looked up at her confused. "So why…why are you here?"
"Well," Holly shrugged her shoulder. " I was sent to lead you along. You see in order to gain access to Heaven, Nick, you have to meet with five people who've had an impact on your journey through your life."
"Five people?" Nick stared at her, confused.
"Five people." Holly confirmed. "I'm not one of them, because we barely knew each other, but I'm going to lead you on to the first person you meet in Heaven."
She held out her hand. Nick tentatively took it and she led him out of Grissom's office.
Nick had barely known Holly Gibbs. He remembered how beautiful she was. Her skin was like mocha and she was very smart. Along the corridor she lead him.
Nick stopped and said, "I'm surprised by something."
She studied him. "What are you surprised about?"
"That I even made it into Heaven," Nick claimed and then allowed her to lead him along the lonely and empty corridors of the lab.
"I told you." Holly reminded him. "You're not there yet, you have to first meet these five people. We all have to go through this."
"Who says?" Nick asked.
"The one who operates Heaven." Holly answered.
"God?"
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "That's one of the names their called."
Suddenly, the lab dissipated. Mists appeared and vanished and they were on the Strip with the Keno guy waving his hand side to side smiling hideously. The sky was black and the streets were empty. Nary a car, or hooker, junkie or homlesss person walked the lonely streets and road. Streetlights lit up the night.
Nick was about to ask Holly if this was Heaven, and if it was, it sure as hell (pardon the pun) looked like Vegas, when suddenly another woman walked up to him in a short leather skirt and sheer blouse with cleavage galore. Her highlighted brown hair fell sweepingly around her shoulders.
Kristy Hopkins.
Nick felt a mixture of happiness and sheer joy as he let go of Holly's hand and ran up to Kristy who welcomed him with a big toothy grin and embraced him.
"What? Are you as surprised as I am to see me here?" she asked while chewing some gum.
"No more than I was to find myself here." Nick broke the embrace and held her shoulders. He turned to say something to Holly but she had disappeared.
Turning back to Kristy, confused, the deceased hooker said, "Her time with you was done. Now it's my turn." She hooked her arm through his and continued, "Let's go walking, Nick."
Together they walked until suddenly Nick found himself on the roof of the Monte Carlo. He was getting used to the sudden change of scenery. Kristy invited him to sit on the edge of the roof with her. He did so, scared at first until he remembered he was dead and so there was nothing to worry about.
Their legs dangled over the edge as Nick looked down at the empty streets and finally asked. "So you're the first person I'm supposed to meet with?"
"Yep." She answered cheerfully.
"And what are we going to talk about?" Nick asked nervously.
"Your life before you came here," Kristy said and suddenly, with a small flash, her attire changed. Now she was dressed modestly in slim fitting jeans and a tunic top.
Nick's eyes widened in surprise and confusion.
"I was only allowed to wear those clothes for identification purposes," she explained. "Now that you remember me, I can be who I am in this place." She rubbed his back.
"I never forgot you, Kristy." Nick pressed his lips together tightly. "Never. I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you. To protect you from Jack."
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Nick," Kristy told him. "And you paid for me to have a decent burial. Shows me what an honourable man you were."
"It wasn't anything fancy."
"It was better than being buried in a public plot on top of a homeless person." Kristy sighed sadly. "I was only 25. I wish I had done a lot of things in my life differently."
She looked up at the sky. "He still in jail."
"Yeah." Nick joined her in studying the constellations. "Twenty five to life, just like I told him he would."
"I'm glad your friend caught him." Kristy said. "And glad you didn't go to jail for it."
"So was I. It was hard. My boss never forgave me for…" Nick couldn't finish the sentence, but Kristy knew what he was about to say and did it for him. "Sleeping with a hooker."
"Not exactly a smart move when you work for the LVPD." Nick explained then retracted. "I mean, worked for the LVPD since it looks like my time with them is done."
"They were lucky to have someone like you on board regardless of what you did in your private time, Nick." Kristy said sincerely then continued. "But that's not why I'm here. Let's talk about your life before you came here. Specifically, your love life and why I was picked for this task."
Nick scoffed, "What love life? After you there wasn't much there to celebrate. I didn't have a serious relationship to speak of. There was no time for one and then I simply didn't want anyone serious."
"Awww, but there was one woman whom there was potential for, but you threw her away like trash." Kristy's green eyes grew steely as she said this.
Nick returned her gaze with a confused one. "What do you mean?"
"I'm talking about a woman you treated pretty badly before you came here, Nick."
Gulping, Nick stuttered. "You mean..."
She looked at indignantly. "Mandy."
DAMN!
A/N: The title is lovingly borrowed from one of my favourite books called The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom. It's about an old guy who dies saving a little girl from a Ferris wheel accident in the park he worked in. Fantastic book!