I'm baaaack… I think I just heard Katlynn88 squealing. Yes, after many long months, I have returned to the CSI fandom. ALL of my writing from here on will probably be pre-Season 9; I'm not a huge fan of Rey or Riley. It feels good to write Love again.


Jill Stokes sat at her son's bedside, gently holding his hand in both of hers. Her eyes were dry; she had cried when she first saw him in the hospital bed, shaking and panicky. His friend, Warrick, and his boss Catherine had both been with him then, but they had been asked to leave by the hospital staff. The Stokes were let in once Nicky was sedated, but they nearly forced Nick's coworkers to go home. They had spent so much time looking for him…

She smoothed her thumb across the back of his hand, wincing at the feel of the inflamed ant bites. Nicky was drugged right now, but when he awoke, he would be in so much pain.

But he would be alive! She thanked God, again, for bringing her boy back. Nicky had proved himself time and time again that he was smart, strong, and capable, but she couldn't get herself out of the worried-mother mindset. Seeing him in that box-- all she could think of was the seven-year-old boy who had slept in the treehouse for three nights because he had just watched an age-inappropriate horror movie with his older brother, and didn't want to admit that it gave him nightmares. Nightmares of being alive, and screaming for someone to come and save him, but no one ever did. Jill could only imagine how bad the nightmares would be now.

She jumped as the door opened, and her husband entered the room.

"I just called the kids," Bill said quietly. He sat next to his wife and put a hand on her shoulder. "Emily says she'll drive up tomorrow, and the rest of them are threatening violence if we don't bring him home for a few days."

"Of course they are," Jill smiled fondly.

"How is he?"

"He hasn't woken up yet." They were silent for a moment, watching Nick, wishing that the strength of their gaze could wake him.

"That boy's still out there," Bill said suddenly. "The rest of them left to get some rest, but he wouldn't go."

Jill swallowed. Her throat was tight. "Good," she said finally. "At least he's got… that's good."

"Yeah."

He took her hand, and for a moment Jill just sat there, between her baby boy and her husband. She was about to suggest they take a break, get some food, find a hotel--but then Nicky woke up.

"Mom?" he said hoarsely. "Cisco?"

Jill jumped; she hadn't noticed his eyes opening. Immediately she stood and kissed his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Bill asked, relieved.

"Crappy," Nick croaked. "But it could be worse."

He looked awful. He was pale, and the shaking had returned. Every inch of exposed skin was red and bumpy, painful-looking. Jill sat down again, and touched his face gently. "We were so worried," she whispered. "Emily's coming, and then we're going to take you home for a while, okay?"

"Where's Greg?"

Jill and Bill exchanged glances. "He's outside, honey. I don't think you should… you need your rest."

"Please, Mom… please." There was a sort of finality in Nick's tone, and Jill couldn't ignore it. With a sigh, she stood and exited the room, closing the door behind her quietly.

Greg Sanders was sitting in the waiting area. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes were fixed on his hands, locked in front of him, and at first glance he was motionless. After a moment, Jill noticed that his foot was tapping insistently; his whole body was humming with energy. She was about to speak when he leaned back with a heavy sigh, and she paused.

Greg leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling, but she saw his eyes were closed. For a moment, she took the time to study him. She and Bill had met Greg, once the year before. Their impression had been… unfavorable. Nicky had come out to them in college, and they had accepted him for that. After all, what other choice did they have? Cast off their youngest child, the boy who had fought his way out from his siblings' shadows and become this amazing man? They couldn't do it.

They had met a few of his boyfriends. They were all good men, polite and kind. Greg was different. He was loud, overeager, direct, with odd clothes and crazy hair. To be honest, he would not be their first pick for Nicky. But again, what choice did they have? He was trying hard, and Nicky was smitten.

Now, Jill looked at Greg and saw someone completely different. His hair was slightly styled, but no longer dyed, and his clothes were calmer. The long night had worn him down; he looked absolutely exhausted. His eyes opened, and he fixed a clear, steady gaze on the ceiling. He looked focused, controlled… and absolutely terrified. What was there to be worried about?

"He's awake," she found herself saying. Her voice seemed just a little too loud in the quiet room. Greg jumped, and looked over.

"Can I come in?" he asked, looking hopeful, but not expectant.

"Of course."

Greg jumped up quickly, and entered the room almost before Jill did. Jill was watching his face; a few worry lines she hadn't even noticed smoothed themselves out, but his eyes darkened when he saw the injuries. Bill was watching his son; he stopped shaking and held out a weak hand.

"Thank God, Nicky…" Greg breathed. He went to the other side of the bed and took Nicky's hand in both of his, just like Jill had moments before. He kissed Nick's hand, and reached over to stroke his hair. Bill winced instinctively at the overt display of affection, and Greg hesitated. His hand dropped to Nick's shoulder.

Jill knew that Bill was still uncomfortable with the whole situation. He had grown up in Texas, lived there for his whole life. His experience with homosexuality was limited. Jill was slightly more familiar with the concept of men holding hands. She had been born and raised in Maryland, where the people were just a little less strict. Of course, the idea of Nicky-- but she was getting used to it. She returned to her husband's side, and watched.

Greg didn't say anything. He looked like he didn't know what to say. "Warrick was freaking out," he managed finally, with a weak smile. "Kicking over evidence and everything. And Catherine went begging to Daddy Braun for ransom money…"

"What happened?" Nick asked weakly. The smile evaporated from Greg's face, and Jill noticed his hand fluttered uncertainly on Nick's shoulder.

"Some guy with a grudge against the department," he managed finally. "Nothing to worry about."

"The box… it exploded…"

"Yeah. It was kind of cool to watch, actually… but explosions aren't exactly that fun when you're in one, huh?"

Jill was surprised when Nick chuckled. She missed the joke.

"No, not much." Nick mumbled something that Jill didn't hear. Greg looked at him questioningly, and Nick repeated it. He sounded even more tired. "You said Warrick and Catherine were worried… were you worried?"

"I'm always worried working a case," Greg shrugged. "But I didn't freak out, no."

Jill was shocked. She looked to her husband, just to make sure she had heard right. Bill was watching Greg with shrewd eyes. She knew that look. It was his judge's look, the look that meant he was interested and he thought he knew what was going on--but he wanted some more proof.

"You did good, Greggo," Nicky whispered. "Real good." He turned to look at his parents, and Jill smiled softly. "Mom, Cisco, do you mind if I go to sleep again? I'm really tired."

"It's okay, honey," she said quickly. "We'll be in Vegas for a few days, and then-- you'll come home with us, right?"

"For a while, sure," he said.

"Of course, just until you get back on your feet. Don't worry about us, Nicky. Just have someone call and we'll be right here."

She kissed his temple, Bill and she both said goodnight, and Nick fell asleep almost instantly. Well, almost instantly. Before his eyes closed, he turned his head to look at Greg, and she could have sworn she saw Greg nod. His other hand moved to hold onto Nick's tightly.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Finally, Greg sighed and dropped Nick's hand. "I think I'm going to go home. I just wanted to make sure he was okay… really okay, I mean. The rest of the team will probably be back in a few hours." He stood, and moved towards the door. "Good night Mrs. Stokes, Judge Stokes."

"Bill." Greg and Jill both looked at Bill, startled. "You can call me Bill, son."

Greg looked surprised, but very grateful. Had he been terrified of them? "Thank you."

He had his hand on the doorknob when he looked back and hesitated. In a swift, decisive moment, he walked back to the bedside with quick, long strides. He kissed Nick's cheek gently, and whispered something. "God-naht, megelsk," was what it sounded like. Jill had no time to consider it. Greg left, and Bill turned to her as soon as the door shut.

"What do you think?" he asked lowly, so as not to wake Nick.

"He cares for him," she answered quietly. "I'm still not sure about some things, but at least there's that, hm?"

"Yes." Bill stood, nodding decisively. "I like him," he said suddenly. "You know why Nicky was happy Greg wasn't as worried as the rest of his team?" Jill shook her head silently. "Because it meant he was focused. More focused on finding our boy alive, as opposed to finding him dead. Good man. We should invite him and Nicky for Christmas this year. And make sure they come, too--I have a feeling Nick's going to need it."

Jill looked at her son again. He was still pale and covered in bites, and he would have terrifying nightmares for a long time. He would probably be jumpy for months, and Jill imagined he would have more than one breakdown before life returned to normal. But at the moment, there was a smile on his face. She felt a soft smile growing over her own face. Nicky was safe, and she trusted Greg to keep him that way.

She kissed her son's cheek again, and left with her husband to get some much-needed rest.


Good or bad? I tried to portray Nick's parents as being in the middle; not God-fearin', red-blooded bigot Texans and not too liberal for their age and area. The thing that Greg said in Norwegian at the end was "God natt, meg elske," or, "Good night, my love."