Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, though I wouldn't mind having Nick…wishful thinking :)
Author Notes: This is my first fiction ever. I don't have a beta tester, so any errors are my own. If you would like to beta for me, just email me and I would truly appreciate it. I want criticism please. I know my writing is far from perfect and I need your advise to make it better.
Repentance and Release
by Elizabeth Jung
Tiny drops of blood flowed down his arm into the clear water. The coppery smell and the sight of the pink water as it swirled down the drain brought relief to his weary soul.
Today had been one of his good days. Twin toddlers murdered by their mother. But he had grinned and bared it, and seemingly fooled everyone. It was the days like this that he needed his release, his penance. The thought brought a shudder to Nick, and he carefully used the knife to tattoo another red line on his pale flesh. It felt good, in a way non cutters could never possible comprehend. The physical hurt was something Nick could deal with. The emotional wounds were the ones that hurt the worst, became infected, and eventually left scars that were evident to everyone. Yes, this was a far better alternative to feeling the anguish and despair of inner turmoil.
The sound of the doorbell brought him out of his reverie. He hurriedly wrapped a small bandage around his arm and pulled down his shirt sleeve. Emotional scars were visible, but physical ones were easily hidden from plain sight. Nick padded across his house plastering on a smile that had born through years of practice. Peering through the tiny window he spotted Warrick shifting uncomfortably seemingly gathering his thoughts on what he would say to Nick.
Abruptly, Nick opened the door and stood beaming at his friend.
"Hey 'Rick what's up?"
"Nick, hey. Yea I just stopped by to see how you were doing, I know today was a killer with those baby girls and all."
"Yea, I know what you mean, but I'm fine actually unwinding by watching the game. You wanna come in?" Nick gave out the invitation praying that Warrick wouldn't call his bluff.
"Nah, that's alright I'm just gonna go home and sleep the shift off, but you enjoy and take care man."
"Night 'Rick, or rather Morning."
"Later bro."
Yes, today had been one of the good days and maybe with more practice and fake smiles they would all become good. Because physical scars can always be hidden. And for people who made a living out of being observant, his friends never spotted the obvious. They put their sensors on high alert after that box, but never realized that he had been doing this long before his grave, or Crane, or even Kristy. And they would never know; Nick would make sure of it.
As Nick headed back to his bedroom, he spotted the knife. It called to him again, and again he submitted. It was his cycle of repentance and relief; it was all he had, and all he wanted.
Fin
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