Over
by
Vengeance Unlimited
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Category: Angst/Drama
Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue me, Mr. Bruckheimer.
Summary: Nick's finally figured Gil out and tells him so. Gil's reaction isn't quite what Nick expected. (Originally posted under the flashofgenius ID over at Oh No, Nicky on LiveJournal)
"So it's over."
He'd replayed the moment often in his memories and nightmares and, every time, he tried to will his former self to say, "Fuck you, Grissom! It's not over!"
And it wasn't. Not now. Maybe not ever. And he was tired of pretending that it was, just because of his sick desire to please the man even if it meant killing himself in the process. Slowly, surely. Every time he shoved something he felt down for fear of disappointing Grissom, of appearing weak, Nick knew he was committing some sort of passive suicide.
He knew he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer fuck that that's Grissom talking not you but he was smart enough to take something constructive away from all the shit that he'd been put through in his life.
He had to get away from Vegas.
He had to get away from Gil Grissom.
So, in the week after Greg's inquest, when Grissom had shown Sanders more support than he'd ever shown Nick, Nick had drafted his letter. And now, he was sitting on Grissom's couch wondering almost hysterically why he had chosen to meet the man here to give him the letter instead of in some place neutral. Some place where he wouldn't be forced to contemplate all the good he was giving up just because he was too much of a pussy to handle the bad.
Grissom again not you
"Nick?"
The soft voice jerked him out of his thoughts and right into those eyes.
"Hm?"
Grissom pointed a finger at the envelope in his hand.
"If that's for me, you mind handing it over? I really would like to get some sleep some time this week."
Oh.
Nick handed the letter over, hoping Griss didn't catch the little tremor in his hand.
"You okay?"
He should be so lucky.
"Yeah," he said, dragging a palm over his face. "Just jacked up on coffee, I guess."
Grissom gave him one of those looks. The one he gave people to let them them feel secure until he dropped the other shoe. Nick hated that look when it was fixed on him.
"So what is this?"
Nick shook his head. He didn't have the guts to explain it. If he had to say the words out loud to Grissom, he knew he would chicken out. and that's all you talkin' cowboy
"You read it. You're a smart man. You'll be able to figure it out."
Nick knew he should have left then. Left Grissom alone with that letter and let him wonder if he was behind it. Let him stew in his own self-doubt. But he didn't trust the older man to get it. That would be giving Grissom too much credit. He was going to make sure Grissom knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was his fault.
"You're quitting, Nick? You mind telling me why?"
Grissom had just opened the door that Nick had been desperately waiting to walk through for years. All he had to do now was take that first step. All he had to do was get his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth and say the words.
"Because of you."
It felt like he trying to speak through a mouthful of blood and chewed glass. He could even taste that familiar metallic tang on the back of his tongue. It still didn't hurt as much as he thought it should have and that threw Nick.
"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm not following you."
Now there... there it was. The truth that brought with it the awful pain Nick felt to his very core. That took his breath away.
Grissom had never followed him. Had never understood him.
never cared enough to even try
"I can't take it any more, Grissom. I can't take you anymore."
The older man started to speak but Nick held up his hand, shushing him.
"Nope," he said with a shake of his head. "It's my turn to talk now. It's your turn to listen for a change."
He spoke for more than an hour. He got angrier with Grissom by the minute.
"I used to mess up dumb stuff on purpose just so you'd yell at me." Use your head, Nicky. "I didn't like that you thought I was an idiot. Didn't like that you were more than willing to tell me so but I thought that was better than being invisible to you."
That earned Nick nothing but an almost imperceptible nod so he charged on with his speech and his pacing around Grissom's living room as Gil sat on the couch.
"Whenever I work a case with any of the other guys, we feel it. We feel it. We aren't ashamed of feeling it and we trust each other enough that we don't have to worry about being perceived as weak or being bagged on for feeling it. I don't know about Greggo or Warrick but I don't trust you like that. Not as my supervisor and certainly not as someone I thought was a friend."
Another nod and still not a word. The part of Nick didn't want to hurt Grissom lost the fight with the other part of him. The part that wanted Grissom to suffer as much as he had made Nick suffer. He knew it was immature. He knew it was vindictive. He didn't care any more.
"I thought something was wrong with me, Gil, but I know better now. You are the one who's wrong! I used to think you are the way you are because you're afraid to get close. Afraid if you started caring about things, you'd start thinking with your heart instead your head." He laughed then, a sick, almost hysterical laugh as the realization hit him. "But there isn't a heart there for you to think with. There's only your head and your ego and it makes you think you're superior to the rest of us mere mortals that have to deal with stupid shit like fear, grief, compassion and love!"
A flinch, finally, a flicker of pain in those blue eyes. Maybe it was because he was yelling. Maybe it was because it was true. Or maybe it was because he really had hurt the man's feelings but Nick couldn't afford to think about it. If he did, he was afraid that lingering self-doubt would resurface.
"Let me ask you a question, and I swear to God Gil, you better be honest." He didn't wait for Grissom to acknowledge the request. "Why did you even bother saving me? Amy Hendler. Nigel Crane. Walter Gordon. Take your pick and tell me why."
Nick fully expected Gil to chicken out and take the easy one in Amy Hendler. He nearly swallowed his tongue when Gil said, "Walter Gordon took the wrong CSI when he took you, Nick. You are the strongest man I have ever met. What you think makes you weak, makes you that much stronger than everyone else. You kept yourself alive because you didn't want to die, because you knew how much losing you would hurt the rest of us. Even me. Especially me."
Nick shook his head repeatedly, his lips pressed together in a tight frown. He didn't know what he had expected Gil to say but this sure wasn't it. And he wasn't expecting what Gil did next. He walked over to Nick and took his face in his hands, palms warm on his cheeks. Nick looked him in the eye then and wondered at the way they glistened.
"Nick," he said softly. "I should have told you a long time ago. You never disappointed me."