My first fanfic, all mistakes are mine, I did not have an English upbringing.

The crime scene was a home on a housing estate. Lights flashed blue and red against the two story building, leaving a known daunting feeling in everyone's guts. Nick was alone in the 4x4 as he pulled up alongside the yellow tape which stretched out like a warning left by someone who cared. It seemed to say: „We couldn't save him but we will find him justice." It was familiar picture to Nick, one he had seen too many times.

Switching off the engine and undoing his seat belt, the CSI pinched the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger on his right hand while desperately clenching the wheel with his right, knuckles white and eyes tight shut. He was the last member to arrive, for Grissom, Warrick, Sarah, Catherine and Greg had arrived before him. Brass had already phoned him to give him updates and although it was rather uncharacteristic of him, due to recent events was unsurprising.

The Graveyard shift had hardly seen any action in the past month, asides from the death of two prostitutes and the case had been wrapped up before it even began. Though the Crime Lab were pleased to note the decreasing amount of criminal activity in Vegas at night, for it seemed the Day shift were as overloaded as ever, the results on the criminalists themselves were disturbing.

Sarah had become irritable and jumpy, Grissom had been moodier and even less human if that were possible, Catherine had nearly torn her hair out and kept yelling about everyone's attitude, whereas Greg, who always wanted to impress, had deemed it wise to expect a crime to bounce their way at all times, resulting in him doping himself on Caffeine. Nick and Warrick and been in charge, due to Grissom snapping at them because Catherine had yelled at him first; of figuratively and literally scraping Greg off the lab ceiling. It got scarier though when Brass started prowling the corridors and Doc Robbins had begun eying the lab techs while wringing his hands and muttering something about vivisection as a last resort.

Exiting the vehicle, Nick had to admit that the call to this crime scene had been somewhat of a relief for everyone. But the crime itself made Nick want to beg for another unbearable month with his team. Sighing discreetly, he clutched his kit, ducked under the tape and made his way to the house. His steps were hesitant as waves of nausea washed over him, leaving him sweaty and gasping for air. He made his way through the house, ignoring all sounds and following the smell of blood towards the bedroom.

The victim was a young boy nine years old with brown hair. The similarities Nick saw between himself and the body had him almost heaving there and then. Closing his eyes and knowing there was no turning back, he walked towards the body surrounded by his team.

It took him a moment to recognize the scene from a moment from his past. Nick found himself playing spot the difference with the scene in his head and the one before him. This young boy had had similar interests as him such as animals and astronomy according to the small book collection in the corner; his bedroom was painted a sea blue and by the window he was the owner of a neat and tidy desk. Nick mentally slapped himself for allowing himself to get distracted quickly whipped out his camera and started processing the scene. He blocked out the others sad talk of "sexual abuse", "rape" and "couldn't have stopped her" and started photographing the bruises along the boys thighs. Then it struck him. They said her. He made the unfortunate mistake of looking at the young boy's eyes. They were brown like his own.

"Nick? Nick!"

At the sound of Grissom's voice, he blinked. He was laying on his back near the victim. Had he passed out? Despite everyone's protests he jumped to his feet. Thankful that he didn't sway, he quickly glanced around in hope that not everyone had noticed his incident. They had.

Pushing Warrick gently away, he glanced at Catherine and saw that she had made the connection. Shit.

Would she tell them? She was the only other person who knew and while she had always respected everybody's privacy, fainting like a weak hearted woman was not going to stop her. Before she could ask him permission, Grissom cut her off.

"Nick are you well?"

Nick suddenly felt himself shaking. He hadn't reacted like this since he had woken up five months ago in hospital after having been rescued twelve hours after being buried alive. He felt disgusted at himself as tears suddenly flowed freely. Sarah frowned in concern and put her arm on his shoulder but retreated

as he leaped a foot in the air. Grissom grabbed him thoroughly but in a reassuring way by the shoulders.

"Nicky." The fact that he thought whispering would make him feel better along with the stares from everyone had him break out in sobs. He lent against his boss without seeming to be aware that he was taking up the private man's personal space. Suddenly his thoughts were consumed by his memories and Nick was pushed back into his subconscious.

Catherine watched in horror as Nick suddenly stopped weeping as quickly as he had started. He stood slumped to one side and pulled away from Grissom. His eyes glazed over and he fell silent. No one seemed to move or breathe.

Brass reacted first, hurrying over to the broken man and waving his hand, then clicking his fingers. No reaction. Nick was suddenly dead to the world. Brass spun around to face the others.

"Looks like he's gone into shock. I'm calling an ambulance. Keep an eye on him." He scurried out.

Gil was trying to make Nick lay down on the floor near the door as far away from the body to avoid contamination. Nick didn't react and continued to gaze ahead. Together they maneuvered him to the floor. The team glanced at each other helplessly. What were they to do now.

"Okay, Warrick, Sarah keep processing, Catherine..." Grissom's stern gaze said that no one was to argue with him, but before he could finish giving out orders, Nick started screaming.

Clawing at his chest, as if trying to rip his very heart out, he began kicking his feet and the waving his arms as though trying to throw off an unknown enemy. Warrick held him down and started talking to him in a reassuring manner.

"Nick, Nick, come on man..."

Nick's eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright making everyone leap back in shock. He stared at the team with the same glassy look. Then he spoke.

"Please don't touch me again," he whispered like a frightened child, his eyes watering like he was going to cry. "Please, I'll be a good boy, I won't tell my mom."

Everyone glanced at each other and back at Nick. They all got on their knees around him, uncertain as to whether they should touch him or not. Grissom made the decision to grasp his hand. Nick tensed but squeezed back rather than letting go.

"I'll be good, please don't use your fingers again, it hurts." By now he was crying freely and everyone suddenly looked like they understood what was going on but refused to believe it. Catherine was sobbing harder than Nick, mascara running away from her eyes. She stroked his hair while regaining her composure.

"Nick, come on you're safe, you're here with us, you're not there with her come on Nicky..."

He started to struggle harder, and at that moment brass arrived with the ambulance crew in tow. "Please don't fuck me, my mom says it's a bad word."

There came the sound of retching, followed by that god awful smell of stomach acid as Nick turned over and threw up all over Grissom.

Please review! Thanks for reading.