As Nick walked back from his work place his mind considered the recent events. It was like a bad dream threatening his sanctuary, his welcoming abode. Shaking his head he opened the door to his home. He threw the keys on the side, along with his shades, as he walked in. Shutting the door behind him with a small thud.
He sighed and paused a moment before venturing further into his home. It was hard to grasp hold of, that he had been watched, just like Jane Galloway. This man who Nick had never properly known, who had installed his LUMA Cable, had been watching him sleep, go abut him daily routine, followed his movements as he indulged in his hobbies.
With a sigh Nick removed his hoodie, latching it over the back of an armchair. The place was quiet and it was disturbing for him. With certain edginess he looked up at the ceiling wondering what was up there. Or even more disturbingly, who could be there. After all the things he had gone through he wasn't sure his home was safe anymore. With a new determination Nick went to the closet and got his stepladder.
He stood it under the attic door and climber up slowly and hesitantly. Reaching up, his arms brushing slightly against his own head, and opened the door, pushing it over to one side. He hoisted his body, battered from the fall earlier that week, into the darkness of the attic. He fumbled around with his fingers for a light switch, muttering to himself in irritation.
Finally, with a soft hum the light turned on. Nick nervously glanced round the gloom. Cobwebs could be seen clinging to the jutting posts that held the roof tiles. Nothing was to be seen except for a hanging old fashioned, black phone connected to a phone line, which had been tapped into. Nick frowned as he saw a ragged and dirty cushion near to the phone.
Nick looked and sighed, his lips curling into a snarl. He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing at them as if to rub away the tension. With careful movements he climbed back down the ladder, it creaked and groaned under his weight. Finally he got to the ground. He would deal with that phone later; it brought up too many bad memories from earlier that morning.
He collapsed on his sofa and winced, having momentarily forgotten the bruises decorating his body. The eeriness of his home was threatening and Nick shook his head slightly. The thought of being watched was creeping back into his mind again and many unanswered questions arose. He knew he would never be able to find answers for all of them.
The walls seemed to bear down on him; heightening the sense of paranoia and making him feel trapped. He was like an animal in a cage without any means of escape. Wordlessly, he got up and with a small wince of pain made for the door, hoping Warrick would be in.
He knew that Warrick and he had achieved a strong relationship and would often hang round each other's house. Nick's only hope was it would stay that way.
He grabbed his hoodie and struggled to put it on. After what felt like an eternity, Nick managed to win the battle with his troublesome garment. He took his keys and locked the front door behind him. Fumbling with the opening of his jacket pocket he thrust the keys inside. Keeping his head down, though still high enough to see where he was going, he walked the route to Warrick's house.
The wind nipped at his exposed flesh and a bird crying at the early morning made him jump. With a heightened resolve, Nick pressed on, lengthening his strides as he went. He finally reached Warrick's door. He knocked three times and waited, looking behind him every so often.
It was a time before Warrick answered. His hair was dishevelled and he rubbed his fingers against his eyes. 'Nick? What brings you here?'
Nick's fingers fidgeted as he spoke, 'I dunno. My house, I feel so isolated…um' Nick struggled to find the words he wanted but Warrick seemed to have understood.
'Want to stay here tonight?' Warrick offered with a friendly smile and Nick nodded. Warrick gestured for Nick to come in with a flick of his head, his hair wavering with the movement. He turned back into his home and Nick followed quickly, shutting the door behind him. He followed Warrick into the living room and sat down.
'You look like death warmed up Nick. You need some sleep' Warrick stated and yawned suddenly whilst dropping into a chair.
'Yeah, I do. I keep thinking someone's still up there, in the attic' Nick murmured, confessing his thoughts and worries to his best friend. Warrick nodded and left the room, returning with a couple of beers. He gave one to Nick, smiling slightly.
'It'll help you sleep'
Nick only nodded and opened the cold can. It hissed angrily as it opened and Nick downed a good amount before holding it gently in his hands, a thumb wiping away some of the condensed water dribbling down the side of the metal frame.
Warrick looked at his friend. They had been through a lot and Nick had helped him with many problems during their careers. He cared a lot for Nick as a friend and it was no wonder that he was so worried when the guy had been thrown violently out of that window. Warrick was thankful Nick was alive and that he was drinking beers with the Texan guy.
Nick finished the rest of the amber liquid inside the can and set it down on a nearby table. He sighed heavily and lent back against the sofa. He felt safer here, he was not alone. He yawned and Warrick made sure that he got to bed all right before Warrick turned in himself, sleeping the rest of the dark hours.
The house became quiet but Nick was fast asleep with the covers tightly drawn up to his now bare chest and Warrick's snoring was the only sound to be heard there that night.
A/N: Weel, this is the first of my CSI works and i would like to know if you think i should continue or not? Reviews will be welcomed.