Title: Do You Know
Summary: Love is blind. A angst twist for Nick about his troubled past. As told by 2 people. Plz R&R!!
Pairings: This is a Nick and Sara shipper.
Rated: PG-13 for Adult Language and Adult Situations
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original CSI cast. CBS does. I however do own the few others which have non major parts in this story. They will just support some of the tragedy and maybe cause it.
Comments,questions,concerns: Oh I always wanted to ask that! Lol Please leave feedback. If not, no story. C'mon guys don't be cheap! You read, you review! Heh..ok any additional comments please send to snowflakeangel01@yahoo.com Thanks and bunch and I hope you enjoy the story.
IMPORTANT: Nick's history is all created by me. Not all information is true to this fan fiction which is found on CSI's official site by CBS.
Do you really know me? Yeah, you know my name. I'm sure you know it by now. But do you know the real Nick Stokes. Most people don't. I tend to keep myself in disguise I guess. I planned to keep it that way too before the last couple of days you see. Showing the true you to somebody is really scary for me. Not scary, it's terrifying. I wonder if I made a mistake by telling her. Showing her who I really am, sharing everything. I trust her. But now my past is out like a deer caught in headlights. There's no turning back now. I had to tell someone though what's going though my mind when I'm alone. When I have time to think. I am really starting to scare myself. Yeah, a few days ago I caught myself with my gun in my hand. I was as shocked as she was when she found out. I appear to be the most happiest guy, don't I? But you do not know..
Man I feel low. As low as low can get. I whined and ranted to her about my damn life, again. I feel like a baby. She seemed to enjoy hearing from me though. Which truly and sincerely surprised me. Why would she want to hear about my problems when she has her own? Maybe she's concerned about her friends. I don't know.
What the hell is happening to me? This is all my damn parents fault. It was my fault they drank, and my fault they got killed. That's all there is too say. I killed them. No not physically but I built up to there death. Sure when I was young, I hated them. When I was twelve I use to want to kill them myself on how they treated me. The mental abuse that my mom pursued on me wasn't one to savor and my dad's physical abuse left scars on me today. There embedded in my heart along with cuts and scars along my back. My mother never stuck up for me. Always told me to defend myself. Yeah well that worked real great mom! All I did was nearly get myself banged up even more. My teachers always use to wonder as I entered class how I ended up with 'another' broken bone, or 'another' black eye. Of course I had to make up an excuse. He would have killed me with his bare hands if I told a sole. And after all, I did believe it was my fault.
I tried to be the best son my parents could have but somehow it wasn't good enough. I was told by my mother that I was a 'mistake.' I really wanted to prove them wrong but somehow the harder I tried to be good, the worse I got treated. That puzzled me. Maybe I was doing it all wrong? Maybe they wanted me to be a miserable like them. What am I saying? Of course they wanted me to be miserable. It made them feel better about themselves.
I could never cry around them. The last time I cried was when I was three or so and that's when the physical abuse started, only it was just small slaps. As I got older it worsened. By 10 I was getting hard punches into my gut or when I wasn't ready, he got my eye. One time he broke my nose. When I went to the hospital in 5th grade, something told me the doc didn't believe my story on how I fell off a swing at school. I mean..who would?
As I grew older I snuck out with my friends a lot. One night I got a hold of too much alcohol. I was 14, the 1st time I drank. When I got home that night, I thought I would never see the day again. My father couldn't get over that I drank because of him. That night was the worse night of my life.
The pain stopped when I left home to school when I was 19. Got into a good university and new I wanted to catch crime violators. I hated my parents for the next 5 years or so. My life was great. I met great people and had a great life until March 19, when I was 25. I got a call from back at home in Texas, my dad killed my mother. I still remember everything he said to me. Told me to pick him up, quit school, and leave everything for him. He was scared, he had beaten my mom to death on one of his rages over something stupid like work. I refused. That's when I heard it, the gun shot. I had lost both my parents in the same day.
A small part of my felt sorrow but the other side felt glee. They were gone..my parents..the one's that hit me, and ruined my childhood. I felt so guilty that I felt happy but sorrow at the same time. Why should be sad? They are gone, yet they were my parents. What kid would be happy after hearing your parents were dead?
I had no right. I had killed my father along with my mom close behind. I started to feel like I shouldn't be here, I don't deserve to live and be happy. But then again, what did I do wrong?