What A Beautiful Mess
He took a deep breath as he sat down in the break room. It had been six months since he had been released from the hospital, and he was finally going to go into the field for a full case. He'd been stuck in the lab for almost a month, only being allowed out to help process for an hour or two at most before he'd been sent back to run tests, and help process evidence for any cases where people needed help.
Even though it was over a hundred degrees outside he wore a long-sleeved button up shirt. Nick was glad no one bothered to call him on it, and not a single person had seen his arms, legs, or chest since he'd been released. It was hard enough for him to see the scars that still remained, but he was glad that there were only a few that hadn't fully healed.
Every once in a while he still had to use his crutches, and on especially bad days he'd even haul out his wheelchair when his leg hurt too much to walk on. His arm was doing better, but he had forced himself to become proficient writing with his left hand in order to keep filling out reports when his right arm would start aching.
"You're gonna wear out the armrest if you keep tapping your fingers like that, buddy." Warrick smiled before sitting down on the couch across from Nick.
"Huh?" Nick's eyes looked down to his left hand, and sure enough they were still steadily tapping the armrest of the couch.
"I take it you're nervous."
"You have no idea. I mean- I want out of the lab, but… I'm scared. I mean the last real crime scene I processed ended with me falling through a trap door and into a freaking hole."
"You'll be fine, bro, besides one of us will be nearby."
"With my luck it doesn't really matter. Catherine was right there, and I still fell. There wasn't anything she could've done to stop it."
Warrick was about to respond when he saw the saddened look on his friend's face, but was stopped when Sara and Greg came in, followed shortly by Catherine. When he looked back at Nick he saw the frown and the sad face gone, replaced with the usual cheerful expression he knew so well.
"Alright, assignments- Sara, you and Greg got a missing person in Henderson, Paul is already out there. Warrick, Nick, and Catherine, you're with me on a 419 at Butterfield Academy."
Grissom waited until everyone had left the room, except for Nick. Just as the younger CSI made to walk past him, he gently placed his hand on Nick's left shoulder. "Listen, Nick, if you get tired, if it's too much- don't be afraid to say so. No one will think any less of you. I just don't want you to push yourself too hard too soon."
"Thanks, Griss, but I'll be ok. I mean I'm still going in for some physical therapy sessions, but I can handle this. You do trust me, right?"
"Yeah, of course I do, Nick. I'm just worried about you."
"I know. I'll be ok- really."
Minutes later they were all seated in a Denali, making their way past the brilliant lights of the strip. Grissom was driving, while Catherine sat next to him. Warrick was sitting by Nick, trying his best not to stare. The look he had seen on his friend's face earlier was making him worry. No one spoke as they stared out the window.
"This body- who found it?" Nick asked as his eyes stared up at the dark, cloudy sky.
"Don't know, we'll have to ask Brass when we get out there." Grissom answered.
"Brass? I thought he was on vacation with Annie."
"He was, until McKeen let Ecklie know that we're short on detectives, with Sofia and Vartann being out on sick leave." This time it was Catherine who answered.
"At least it's not Cavaliere." Nick smiled briefly, and Warrick chuckled lightly.
"I'm glad you're back, Buddy."
"It's good to be back and to know I won't have to be in the lab all night."
It wasn't long before they fell back into a comfortable silence, listening only to the music playing cheerily over the radio. After a few more minutes Grissom turned onto a different road, and it wasn't long before they saw the flashing lights of squad cars waiting for them in front of the large school building. They exited the vehicle, quickly grabbing their kits. Nick moved as quickly as he could, trying his hardest to keep up.
He quickly hurried to follow them to the scene, and froze when he saw the massive crowds of people swarming the hallways. Police officers were hastily trying to maneuver the people around, so that no evidence could be contaminated. The entire scene was in chaos, and Nick could feel his heart beating faster at the sight of so many people.
"Where's the body?" he heard Catherine yell over the commotion.
Then Brass was there. Officers were trying to clear a path for all of them. "Second floor janitor's closet. The head custodian found the body and started screaming- interrupted a big basketball game. David is already up there- he'll be better at informing you about the victim."
Warrick, Grissom, and Catherine had plowed further along through the crowd, but Nick was finding it hard to move. He hadn't been around this many people in months, and it was unsettling. Nervousness and the beginning of what he hoped wasn't going to be a full out panic attack were beginning to take over his mind. It was getting harder to breathe, and the struggle to keep his eyes open and focused was a battle he was quicklylosing.
Everything was starting to get fuzzy. People were everywhere, complete strangers. Anyone of them could be a psychotic killer who planned on making him their next victim. He was beyond paranoid, but his mind was too blurred to even comprehend what was really happening. Then he felt the gentle hands on his arms. At first he wanted to scream, but then he felt the smooth, soft skin of a familiar hand rest lightly on his cheek.
The sounds of the large crowd began to fade, and he found it a bit easier to focus. A deep voice that he distantly recognized was counting off breaths. He found himself trying hard to breathe in rhythm to the slow steady breaths that were obviously being exaggerated so he could hear them. Several minutes later he closed his eyes tightly before letting them open again.
Nick took in the sight of Catherine and Warrick kneeling beside him. Sweat fell along his face and he took a few more deep breaths set to match Warrick's. The hand on his face belonged to Catherine, and it was calming.
"It's okay, Nick. You're fine." Catherine whispered. They were all gathered on the floor in an empty hallway, and Nick let out a loud sigh of relief knowing that only these two had seen his panic attack. He was also relieved that they had shown up as quickly as they had.
"You gonna be okay, buddy?" Warrick spoke up, finally allowing himself to breathe normally since Nick had clearly calmed down.
"I-I'll be fi- I'll be okay." The word 'fine' was one he had used too much. To him the very word was a lie. It was a word people would only use when they wanted to be left alone, and that was something he knew, without a doubt, that he didn't want.
"Whenever you're ready, Nick. Just take your time." Catherine answered, her hand still lingering on his cheek.
"I… I think I'm ready now." Warrick gave him a reassuring smile, and Catherine let her hand fall from his cheek and onto his left shoulder giving him a reassuring squeeze. Warrick helped him up, and they made their way up a flight of stairs.
While Nick hated being watched over he was grateful that both Catherine and Warrick were paying a bit closer attention to him as they climbed. His leg hurt a bit with each step, but it was pain he had learned to handle. He knew he didn't have to worry about falling. With Catherine in front and Warrick behind him he knew they'd never let him fall. It was a serious relief. Neither man noticed as Catherine hurriedly wiped and rubbed at her nose with a handkerchief.
Once they were on the second floor they passed through a few hallways when they saw Grissom standing in a hallway with a few police officers. They watched as he checked his watch and tapped his foot looking at the nearby door and the stairs beyond.
"Gil, over here. Sorry, but I tripped, and hit my nose. Nick and Warrick helped me to get it to stop bleeding." She turned and shot a smile to Nick and Warrick before turning back to Grissom.
"Oh- are you okay?" Grissom questioned, not fully believing her story. Normally, He would have called her on it, but he knew if she was lying that there had to be a reason for it. And, if his gut was right the reason was most likely linked to Nick.
"Yeah, Nick got some wet paper towels, and really took care of everything. It's a bit sore, but knowing that it's not bleeding is a good feeling."
It seemed to satisfy Grissom and he waved them into the room where the officers were standing guard. It was larger than most custodial rooms, but when they saw the desk at the far end and various shelves full of supplies it made sense.
"Whose office is this?" Nick asked, hoping his voice sounded normal. If it was a bit uneven or nervous, Grissom didn't say anything about it.
"Janise DeLano, one of the custodians here. Gerald Finch, the head custodian here, told me there is an office like this on every floor. Numerous people have keys to this room, and we don't even know if the door was locked." Grissom said before he turned back to the body of a ten-year old boy lying on the concrete floor.
An hour laterNick and Catherine were alone. Grissom and Warrick had gone off to begin asking questions to a few people who might know something. They processed quickly, both working around each other as if they had been working together for the past six months.
"Thanks, Catherine."
She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "It was nothing, Nick. I figured you wouldn't want Grissom to know. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
"I know- it's just that you shouldn't have to lie for me."
"Nick- don't sweat it okay? I know it's normal, I also know that Grissom would probably do, or say, something stupid. Maybe even both. I figured I'd save him from getting his foot in his mouth, and from you getting babied."
"I appreciate it." He smiled at her before turning and going back to processing the scene. "More than you could ever know." He whispered under his breath. After biting his lip he made himself focus on the scene. Four hours into processing he switched so he was writing his notes with his left hand. It had taken a lot of time, but after a few weeks of effort he had become proficient writing with his left hand when his right arm couldn't take anymore. Though it was a bit harder to read, and took a bit longer to write, he could last as long as the others when it came to taking notes and filling out reports.
His right arm ached, and he knew that once he got home he'd be alternating cooling and heating pads for at least two hours before it would settle enough to allow him to sleep peacefully. He thought about taking a few sleeping pills and only alternating the pads for a single hour, but the thought of taking those pills was worse than losing an hour of sleep.
Nick was exhausted, but he knew the shift wasn't over yet. They had spent almost five hours at the scene, with little to show for it. All they had left to do was process the remaining evidence and wait for test results. He knew he could at least look forward to a break when they got back to the lab. A few minutes of sitting back would be heaven for his leg.
It was something he utterly hated. He despised having to think about his arm and leg when he made decisions. He despised the fact that his body was still so worn down months after the injuries had been inflicted. The memory of being able to go an entire double shift without a single break was something he wished he could do again. The fact that no one would even think of letting him pull a double was comforting, and he knew he'd be guaranteed to get off on time. At the same time it made him feel guilty. If the others were forced to pull a double on the case he'd still have to go home, and leave them shorthanded.
Though, with the little evidence they had found it was unlikely that anything major would be found that night from the various test results. Catherine had immediately gone to her locker to retrieve the school rostrum in hopes of identifying the child that night. Meanwhile he was grateful that Warrick had gone straight to the break room. Had he been the one to lead the way he would've felt slightly more guilty, as if he was admitting he couldn't even handle a single shift.
Of course he knew Warrick had done it to make him feel comfortable. Only he and Catherine could get away with being overprotective of him. Had it been Sara or Greg, he couldn't help but acknowledge he would've been slightly annoyed, and maybe even thought of them as condescending. It wouldn't be true, but he knew Catherine and Warrick so much more than the others. He knew how to read them, just like they could read him.
He didn't even refuse the coffee Warrick had handed it to him. "Don't worry, it's the good stuff. I found Greg's newest hiding spot."
"Ah. Thanks man." Nick smiled, and let himself fall back into the couch. His leg felt instantly relieved at the lack of weight being put on it, and he gingerly lifted it up and set it down on the coffee table. "You can turn around now, bro."
"What do ya mean?" Warrick was glad that Nick's voice was still light, and that he clearly wasn't offended. He knew how touchy Nick could be when it came down to his injuries, and he had taken a bit longer to pour his coffee so that Nick could have a few moments to get comfortable without anyone watching him.
"How long can it take you to pour a cup of coffee?"
"Come on- we both know I've got butterfingers every once in a while." He smiled, and Nick chuckled lightly before letting out a soft sigh. "It doesn't hurt much, does it?"
"Not really. Just a bit sore- no big deal."
"Alright, but, man- at least promise me you won't work yourself too hard, okay? Don't worry about taking a few minutes to just sit down and take a bit of a rest."
"I'll try not to overdo it."
"Good. You need anything just ask, okay?"
"Yeah, sure thing boss." Nick smiled and waved him over to the couch. They sat quietly for a few minutes drinking their coffee and simply relaxing. It was something Warrick had started to get used to when Nick was too tired to even talk much. So they sat in a comfortable silence, and simply relaxed.
Two hours later Nick felt like someone was slamming a hammer down on his head. The case was quickly getting to him. The autopsy had been hard, and if it hadn't been for Catherine strategically and covertly holding his hand beneath the table he knew he would've had another panic attack. He would always feel sick when he saw such a young child lying in the morgue. It broke his heart, and the only good news that Robbins had been able to give was that the boy hadn't suffered.
A chemical, probably one of the cleaning solvents, had been used to keep him unconscious. As the autopsy continued they had learned the cause of death was blunt force trauma to the boy's chest. Once they had left he had gone straight to the break room. Catherine was right on his tail, and sat with him on the couch. Her fingers ran softly through his short hair, and she offered a soft smile.
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah- it's just that someone killed that little boy… and we aren't anywhere remotely close to finding out who did it. We have hardly any evidence… no witnesses, and the custodian that found the body has an alibi confirmed by fifteen other people."
Catherine let out a deep breath, "We'll find something Nick. Just give it time. They always make a mistake- we just have to find it."
He mustered the best smile he could manage. "I hope you're right."
"So do I." Catherine answered. She sat forward a bit and gave him a gentle hug. "You want anything to drink?"
"Nah, I'll be ok. Only an hour left anyway."
"Yeah, and unless something big comes in within the next hour we'll all be home free."
Nick felt his smile falter a bit. He wanted to rest, and lie down in his own bed. Except he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to feel like he was all alone. It had been hard adjusting to the feeling of being alone, his paranoia could run rampant, and it wouldn't be unusual if he had a panic attack from any unexplained noise. Sure he'd be home, but he definitely wouldn't be free.
An hour later he was staring at his home from just inside his front door. Than security system was turned on. Before doing anything else he walked around his home checking every room to ensure they were empty. He finally let himself groan as his leg continued to ache from the movement of just walking. The fact that he was more or less hobbling instead of walking didn't improve his mood any. With a final sigh he grabbed his hot and cold packs before heading into the bathroom to get his sleeping pills that were waiting for him on the counter.
To Be Continued…
Notes: Next chapter should be up soon. There'll be plenty of action in upcoming chapters, but I have a few issues of the story to work out first. I pretty much am only having one problem, but hopefully I'll figure out a way to work it out. Looking forward to any reviews!