The floor underneath him was cold, but he didn't feel it. Nor did he feel the ache in his muscles from the long day, or the burning in his eyes from contacts that were too dry.
He didn't see what was right in front of him, heard nothing but the scene that played out in his head.
"She's OD'ing! She's OD'ing right now!" His own panicked voiced filled his ears, much too loud.
"Call a paramedic," Sofia said, far away, far far far away from him, where he desperately wished to save Kelly. Even though she is a murderer, even though she is the daughter of the man who buried him alive. She can't die. She can't die because it wasn't fair. It was not fair.
He forced his gaze away from her convulsing body to the table, where he sees the empty pill bottles. "Vicodin, INH, methadone. Kelly!"
He leaned over her. "Kelly! Kelly!"
And then she was still.
"Nick?"
Nick was torn from his reverie and found himself looking up into the face of Gil Grissom.
"Are you okay?" Grissom asked gently.
"Yeah," he said, his voice choked.
"Why are you sitting on the floor?"
Nick shrugged. He was surprised when Grissom sat down next to him. They sat like that, on the floor of the locker room for several minutes.
"Sofia told me what happened." Nick just nodded. "She said you were pretty upset."
"It's not fair," Nick said. Grissom raised his eyebrows.
"What isn't?"
"She – she killed someone and... and I can't even put her in jail for it," Nick said, pulling his knees up to his chest.
"That's not all there is to it, is it?" Grissom pressed, gently.
"No." Grissom waited. He was always too patient. "Sylvia Mullins tried to kill me."
Grissom nodded.
"She didn't have to pay for it. Walter Gordon didn't have to pay for it. Kelly got away, too." Grissom turned quickly to look at him. "I'm the only one."
"The only one?" Gris asked softly.
"I'm still here, and I still have to deal with it. I still have nightmares. They all got off easy." Nick rested his aching head on his arm. "I thought I was getting better. Going into that bunker and everything…I thought I was fine."
"It takes time, Nick."
"Nobody gets it. No one knows what it's like to have that happen to you. They're all so careful around me, because they don't know what to say." Nick looked up at him. "It's like I'm always being reminded of it."
Grissom nodded. "It's hard to know what to do," he said sincerely.
"Am I really so different, Gris? Did it change me that much?" Nick asked, eyes searching for an answer in Grissom's expression.
"In some ways, yes. In others, no. I think you just showed us what was there all along. Most people wouldn't have made it out of that, Nick. You showed a lot of strength then, and you still do, the way you keep going even after all of it. I think everyone is afraid that you will act different than you did."
"What do you mean?" Nick asked, confused.
"They are afraid that you'll let this change you, and they won't know how to handle it."
"What about you?" Nick whispered.
"I'm afraid you'll ask me why I let that happen to you. Why I didn't tell you sooner what you meant to this team. Why I let you down," Grissom said, looking away. "I'm afraid you'll tell me you're going to leave, and that it will be my fault."
"It wasn't your fault. And I'm not going anywhere," Nick said, eyes fierce with determination. "I didn't give up then, and I'm not running away now."
Grissom smiled slightly. "That's good to hear, Nick."
They sat in silence for a while, lost in thought.
"Nick?" Nick looked over at him. "Is it really over?"
"It should be," Nick said, looking away.
"Is it?"
"For the Gordons, for Sylvia Mullins, yeah, it's over," Nick responded.
"For you?"
"No. No, it's not."
