Chapter 3

Grissom entered the halls of the hospital like he had a thousand times or more before. He didn't have to look at the signs to know where ICU was, he knew the route by heart. He held a rucksack on one shoulder, a leather bag worn by miles and years of travel. It softly creaked as he stepped onto the elevator and turned to tap the button for the floor. The ride was quiet and no one stopped it to get on. He had the car to himself the entire trip, giving him time to brace for what he was going to see. Sara had called the night she'd arrived, shortly after Catherine had left. She was in tears about how Nick looked, how he didn't respond, how it wasn't fair someone like him should have to suffer like this. Grissom was worried Sara would have another break down before he got there and do something drastic.

Grissom walked off the elevator into ICU. A circular nurse's station surrounded by ten rooms, giving the men and women working behind it full view of all the patients day or night. A couple glanced up and smiled at Grissom – nurses that knew him – but none of them spoke or tried to stop him. Grissom turned into room four. Sara sat by the bed, staring at Nick's hand that she held in both of hers. She glanced at Grissom, but she didn't get up. Grissom sat his bag against the wall, looking up at Nick.

Even with the bandages, he could tell Nick's face was horribly swollen. Which meant the vital organ inside, his brain, couldn't be doing much better. He was intubated and being monitored closely. His right arm from wrist to shoulder was in a cast, and his right thigh was in a cast. There was nothing hopeful in his appearance.

"He hasn't moved since I got here," Sara said.

Grissom walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her. She wouldn't ask, but he knew she needed it. She laid her head against his arm.

"Look at him, Grissom," Sara said as she started to cry. "Why the hell did they do this to him? I called Greg, I asked him what they said. He told me they wouldn't talk, but that Nick was the thirty-eighth law enforcement person they did this too. Apparently they're cop-haters and there is no rhyme, no reason behind it. I know why I left this job now. Shit like this is just too much!"

Grissom held on tight when she burst into racking sobs. He'd tried to talk her out of coming, but she was determined to be there for Nick. He tried to convince her that Catherine, Greg, even Nick's mother, was here and he wouldn't be alone, but Sara wouldn't hear it. He knew that coming here was the worst thing she could do, but he couldn't stop her. Her friendship with Nick drove her to come back and be with him, and in the end, it was more pain than she'd anticipated. So Grissom just held her, and stared at Nick's bandaged face, and hated the people who had done this to him.

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Grissom watched Sara sleep in the recliner, balled up under his coat. He turned his head suddenly when Nick's hand gently squeezed on his. He looked up, finding Nick's eyes open. Some god of false hope had swooped in to play a trick on Grissom, but his trick fell short of the truth. Sara had told him that Nick had begun drifting from coma to vegetative state the day before, and the coma state was where he'd been when Grissom had arrived. Seeing Nick's eyes open was a shock.

Grissom stood up from his bedside chair, staring into Nick's eyes. There was no recognition, no light in them, nothing to indicate Nick was actually aware Grissom was there.

"I'm going to go for a little while, Nick. I have to take Sara back to Peru. She can't be here. She can't handle seeing you like this. But I promise I'll come back from time to time." Grissom closed his eyes to hold back his tears. He slowly opened them and finished what he had to say. "You are a fighter, Nick. You always were. Maybe a little passive aggressive, but still, you always fought me when you believed in someone or something, and you never gave up." Grissom leaned in close to where Nick's ear was covered with gauze. "Do not give up, Nick, without a fight. Do not give up."

Grissom pressed his cheek against Nick's temple, unable to stop the tears this time. "Please, Nicky, Pancho… Fight for me."

Grissom resisted the elated feeling when Nick's hand squeezed his. It wasn't a reaction to what he was saying. He knew that. It was just a muscle contraction.

Grissom stood up and let Nick's hand go. He turned to Sara, gently waking her, and guiding her away from this heartbreak. But not before one last look at the door. Nick's eyes remained fixed and unseeing. Grissom's heart broke when he considered that they may stay that way for the rest of Nick's life.