Title - A Time for Sorrow (1/1)
Spoilers - none
Summary - Nick loses a loved one.
Disclaimer - CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS Broadcasting Company. Unfortunately, that also means I don't own anyone in the fic other than Ash. I'm also not making any $, so please don't sue me.
Author's Acknowledgment - Not meant to be great. Written a little too quickly, not really proofread. This was only meant to be a little bit of therapy writing for me. What happened to Ash in the story really happened to my Tyme, who passed away in January.
Nick was somber entering the locker room. He didn't look at either Sara or Warrick, instead heading straight to his locker. He took a photograph out from the inside pocket of his jacket and taped it up, using a piece of tape from an earlier photograph of him and his mother. He quickly dabbed his eyes with his fingertips, then took off his jacket and put it in the locker. Taking one final look at the photograph, he shut the door. He left silently, not acknowledging the presence of his two colleagues.
"I wonder what that was all about?" Sara asked, mostly to herself.
"Don't know," Warrick answered.
Nick didn't have a lot to do that night. Grissom knew something was wrong, but didn't ask. He knew that Nick would talk if he wanted. Later in the shift, Grissom had sent Sara, Warrick and Catherine out on an armed robbery call, leaving him and Nick at the office. Grissom stood in the doorway to the lab Nick was working in, saying nothing. He didn't want to disturb the younger man's concentration, although it proved futile.
"Got something?" Nick asked when he noticed Grissom in the doorway.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Grissom answered.
"Not yet. I'll let you know when I do," Nick answered. Grissom left Nick to his work.
When the shift was over, Grissom caught Nick still in the lab.
"You do realize what time it is?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah, I do. I just want to finish this up. I'll be out of here in a little while," Nick answered.
"All right, but don't take too long. This all can wait until you get back tonight," Grissom replied.
"Half an hour, tops. I promise," Nick said.
Grissom simply nodded, then left. When Nick finished, he slipped out of the lab, into the locker room for his jacket and then out of the building without being cornered by anyone. He was in no rush to get home, forcing his mind to think of other things beyond the new emptiness of the apartment. Unlocking the door, Nick stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Taking off his jacket, he looked around for a moment.
"Ash!" he called.
Nick took a deep breath. Leaning against the door, he exhaled. He let his legs give out, sitting against the door, crying. A few minutes had passed before Nick could compose himself to enter the apartment. Once inside, he checked his messages when he noticed he had one. "Hi Nicky, it's mom. I got your message. I'm so sorry to hear about Ash. Call me when you get in and get some rest. I'll talk to you later sweetie."
Nick pressed delete, then went into his room. Taking off his shirt and jeans, he slid into bed. It wasn't until the phone rang at 3:30 that he woke up.
"Hello?" he said, his groggy.
"Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to see how you were," the familiar voice of his mother replied.
"It's all right, I should be getting up now anyway. I still have some things to do before work," Nick said.
"You have tomorrow night off, right?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," Nick answered.
"Good, I'll see you sometime tomorrow. And don't argue with me about it. I want to see my son, especially when he's going through a hard time. I know how sad you must be right now."
After a few minutes, Nick hung up the phone. After a quick shower and a bite to eat, he began gathering Ash's things and put them in the living room. A knock on the door interrupted his process, although he didn't mind. He just didn't want to answer the door with bloodshot, puffy eyes. Gathering Ash's things was taking a hard emotional toll on him.
"Grissom?" Nick asked when he opened the door.
"Well, I had stopped by to see how you were doing, but I don't think I need to ask," Grissom answered.
"Come in," Nick said. "What do you mean 'how I was doing'?"
"Nick, I know you well enough to know when something's wrong," Grissom answered.
Grissom walked over to the pile in the living room, picking up a few stray items. "What kind?"
"A Labrador Retriever. Yellow," Nick answered. "His name is Ash."
"The picture on the television?" Grissom asked.
"That's him. It was taken a couple years ago at a park," Nick answered.
"What happened to him?"
"He had a condition that Labs are prone to- laryngeal paralysis. He had to have one of his vocal cords removed to prevent the paralysis from cutting off his airway. But he got pneumonia. It came on sudden and severe. He died the day he was supposed to come home...yesterday," Nick explained, getting choked up at the end.
"I'm so sorry Nick," Grissom whispered, embracing the younger man to comfort him.
"Well, if I'm going to pick up Ash's ashes from the hospital, I better do it now. I want to spread the ashes in the park where we always went. A little service, if only for myself," Nick said, drying his eyes.
"Would you like some company?" Grissom asked.
"I'm sure you have other things to do before shift tonight," Nick answered.
"Nothing that can't wait," Grissom replied.
"Sure, if you want to," Nick said. Nick and Grissom headed out after Nick took the framed picture of him and Ash from the television.
"How about I drive? You can tell me about Ash on our way," Grissom offered when they reached the parking area.
"Sounds like a deal," Nick said, getting into the car. "I remember one day when I swore Ash was trying to drive me insane. It all started when my breakfast disappeared from the table..."
The End
Spoilers - none
Summary - Nick loses a loved one.
Disclaimer - CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS Broadcasting Company. Unfortunately, that also means I don't own anyone in the fic other than Ash. I'm also not making any $, so please don't sue me.
Author's Acknowledgment - Not meant to be great. Written a little too quickly, not really proofread. This was only meant to be a little bit of therapy writing for me. What happened to Ash in the story really happened to my Tyme, who passed away in January.
Nick was somber entering the locker room. He didn't look at either Sara or Warrick, instead heading straight to his locker. He took a photograph out from the inside pocket of his jacket and taped it up, using a piece of tape from an earlier photograph of him and his mother. He quickly dabbed his eyes with his fingertips, then took off his jacket and put it in the locker. Taking one final look at the photograph, he shut the door. He left silently, not acknowledging the presence of his two colleagues.
"I wonder what that was all about?" Sara asked, mostly to herself.
"Don't know," Warrick answered.
Nick didn't have a lot to do that night. Grissom knew something was wrong, but didn't ask. He knew that Nick would talk if he wanted. Later in the shift, Grissom had sent Sara, Warrick and Catherine out on an armed robbery call, leaving him and Nick at the office. Grissom stood in the doorway to the lab Nick was working in, saying nothing. He didn't want to disturb the younger man's concentration, although it proved futile.
"Got something?" Nick asked when he noticed Grissom in the doorway.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Grissom answered.
"Not yet. I'll let you know when I do," Nick answered. Grissom left Nick to his work.
When the shift was over, Grissom caught Nick still in the lab.
"You do realize what time it is?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah, I do. I just want to finish this up. I'll be out of here in a little while," Nick answered.
"All right, but don't take too long. This all can wait until you get back tonight," Grissom replied.
"Half an hour, tops. I promise," Nick said.
Grissom simply nodded, then left. When Nick finished, he slipped out of the lab, into the locker room for his jacket and then out of the building without being cornered by anyone. He was in no rush to get home, forcing his mind to think of other things beyond the new emptiness of the apartment. Unlocking the door, Nick stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Taking off his jacket, he looked around for a moment.
"Ash!" he called.
Nick took a deep breath. Leaning against the door, he exhaled. He let his legs give out, sitting against the door, crying. A few minutes had passed before Nick could compose himself to enter the apartment. Once inside, he checked his messages when he noticed he had one. "Hi Nicky, it's mom. I got your message. I'm so sorry to hear about Ash. Call me when you get in and get some rest. I'll talk to you later sweetie."
Nick pressed delete, then went into his room. Taking off his shirt and jeans, he slid into bed. It wasn't until the phone rang at 3:30 that he woke up.
"Hello?" he said, his groggy.
"Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to see how you were," the familiar voice of his mother replied.
"It's all right, I should be getting up now anyway. I still have some things to do before work," Nick said.
"You have tomorrow night off, right?" she asked.
"Yes, I do," Nick answered.
"Good, I'll see you sometime tomorrow. And don't argue with me about it. I want to see my son, especially when he's going through a hard time. I know how sad you must be right now."
After a few minutes, Nick hung up the phone. After a quick shower and a bite to eat, he began gathering Ash's things and put them in the living room. A knock on the door interrupted his process, although he didn't mind. He just didn't want to answer the door with bloodshot, puffy eyes. Gathering Ash's things was taking a hard emotional toll on him.
"Grissom?" Nick asked when he opened the door.
"Well, I had stopped by to see how you were doing, but I don't think I need to ask," Grissom answered.
"Come in," Nick said. "What do you mean 'how I was doing'?"
"Nick, I know you well enough to know when something's wrong," Grissom answered.
Grissom walked over to the pile in the living room, picking up a few stray items. "What kind?"
"A Labrador Retriever. Yellow," Nick answered. "His name is Ash."
"The picture on the television?" Grissom asked.
"That's him. It was taken a couple years ago at a park," Nick answered.
"What happened to him?"
"He had a condition that Labs are prone to- laryngeal paralysis. He had to have one of his vocal cords removed to prevent the paralysis from cutting off his airway. But he got pneumonia. It came on sudden and severe. He died the day he was supposed to come home...yesterday," Nick explained, getting choked up at the end.
"I'm so sorry Nick," Grissom whispered, embracing the younger man to comfort him.
"Well, if I'm going to pick up Ash's ashes from the hospital, I better do it now. I want to spread the ashes in the park where we always went. A little service, if only for myself," Nick said, drying his eyes.
"Would you like some company?" Grissom asked.
"I'm sure you have other things to do before shift tonight," Nick answered.
"Nothing that can't wait," Grissom replied.
"Sure, if you want to," Nick said. Nick and Grissom headed out after Nick took the framed picture of him and Ash from the television.
"How about I drive? You can tell me about Ash on our way," Grissom offered when they reached the parking area.
"Sounds like a deal," Nick said, getting into the car. "I remember one day when I swore Ash was trying to drive me insane. It all started when my breakfast disappeared from the table..."
The End