When you came into my life, it changed forever. I didn't realize then that our lives were linked. Watching you now, I realize that you are just as hurt and angry as I am. I wonder, what part did I play in that? Perhaps if I'd just stayed quiet that night...

It's taken me a long time to get over my own pain and anger, but I look at you now, and I see that you've changed. I see it in the tightness around your eyes, the way your smile comes less easily now. You're different now - more driven, and you don't hesitate to put yourself in danger.

A beam of sunlight shining across his eyes woke Nick from a restless sleep. Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his face, and rolled out of bed. Giving the slightly parted curtains a passing glare, he headed for the shower, hoping that the cold water would help wake him up in time for work. Although he couldn't remember the details, every morning lately he had been waking up from unsettling dreams, and feeling more and more tired.

Leaning with one hand against the shower wall, he let the cool water run over his head, as his thoughts drifted. The faces and voices of the dead floated through his mind, but even more, the memories of the living. This morning, it was the frightened young girl he had recently coaxed out of her toy box after her parents had been brutally murdered. He could almost feel her slight body, shaking in his arms as she cried, and he realized that the wetness on his face wasn't entirely from the shower.

Steeling himself, clenching his jaw, Nick pushed the memories back. He straightened, scrubbed his face with both hands, and reached for the soap. Almost time to start another night, another shift of more victims, and hopefully getting more predators off the streets of Las Vegas.

Night had fallen by the time Nick finished his shower and a quick bowl of cereal. The drive to work was uneventful; he rolled down the windows so that the cool night breeze would help keep him alert. Any remaining tiredness was quickly banished by the tension he felt as soon as he entered the building. A quick call to Catherine, and adrenaline kicked into high gear, as evidence from one serial killer gave the team clues to catching another.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can see what's coming, and I can't stop it. Nick!

"Clark! Situation!"

White-hot pain seared through Nick's shoulder and up into his neck, as he felt himself falling backwards. His vision darkened, and then all he could feel was a cold numbness.

'Two officers down? I wonder what happened.' Thoughts swirled disconnected through the fog in Nick's mind. He wondered if he would remember this dream when he woke up. Slowly, so slowly, he became aware of the discomfort in his left shoulder; of the hard floor beneath him; of the voices yelling.

'Not a dream then.' Nick forced his eyes open. No beam of sunlight greeting him, no nightmares slipping away in wisps of forgetfulness. Just pain, shouting, and the growing awareness that more lives were at stake if he didn't do something.

More shots ring out, and I wince again. I know that lives are being saved, but at what cost to you?

Nick lay awake in bed, watching the gap in his curtains, waiting for the sun to drop far enough to shine through it. He was exhausted, but every time he started to fall asleep, his body forgot itself, and he rolled over onto his left side, sending a jolt of pain up through his shoulder and neck. He groaned, knowing that he needed to sleep somehow. The funeral was tomorrow, and he wouldn't dishonour the family by being tired.

The past few days seemed to blur together in his mind. Sara had returned to take him home from the hospital, but just as they were leaving Catherine had called with the news that Ray had been attacked and was being rushed to emergency. Sara had taken off running down the hall. Nick had followed, slower, but no less concerned.

After being assured that Ray would be alright, Sara had driven Nick home. Her driving had in no way been improved by this new worry, and Nick had breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into his driveway. He had declined her offer to help him inside - he didn't want to be treated like an invalid, and he just wanted to be alone for a while. That while had turned into several days of tossing and turning sleeplessly in bed, mechanically eating food without really tasting it, and sitting on his couch staring unfocused at the patched ceiling of his living room.

Finally, inspiration struck. With a grunt, Nick rolled out of bed, and headed into his spare bedroom. Gathering up the pillows and blankets from the bed there, he dragged them back to his own room and tossed them on the bed. Pushing the pile to the left side of the bed, he lay back down, wriggling over so that the pile of pillows was flush against his side, cradling his arm and preventing him from rolling over that way.

Sleep now, Nick. Please, no nightmares tonight.

Light reflected off the table, and the trays of evidence waiting to be processed. Nick's hands shook as he worked, making the end of his tweezers constantly slip on the piece he was trying to analyze. Clenching his jaw, he tried to push through it, as he always had, but it was becoming more and more difficult these days. His whole left arm tingled and ached.

In frustration, he stripped off his gloves and glasses, setting them on the table before him. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus himself. However, all he could see in his mind's eye was a flurry of cockroaches scuttling around under a clicking, flashing light. He imagined that he could still feel the heat of the explosion on his back.

"Go home Nicky."

She's right, Nick. Listen to her, please! Listen to me! Don't do this to yourself. Don't let us lose you.

"No, no, no, no" Time seemed to move in slow motion, as Alex McCann pulled the gun out from his back waistband. 'I am not going to let anyone else die!'

Nick's finger tightened on the trigger, again and again. Even when he knew there was no more danger, he couldn't stop, until the gun itself stopped him when he emptied it. Adrenaline coursed through him, making his hands shake and his vision blur, as he tried to reload his gun.

"Nick! Drop it!"

Trembling, Nick looked up. It took several moments for him to recognize Catherine, to realize what she was telling him. Finally, she managed to push the gun from his hand.

As Catherine ran over to check on Alex, Nick slumped back against the side of the car, panting for breath. His hands were still shaking, and he couldn't seem to stop it.

You were there for me, when things began to fall apart, even though I didn't see it at the time. And now, I want to be here for you. Now I know how you felt that day - I just wish I could help you. But all I can do is watch, and ask: "What happened?"

A/N: The ghost is Haley, from Turn, Turn, Turn.