some months ago

--

"I was kidnapped, and buried alive, left to die, I almost killed myself, I cried like a bitch and was so useless I couldn't save myself, I had to lay there suffocating in the dirt being chewed on by ants crying waiting for someone to save me. That's who I am," he paused and then laughed a laugh of defeat, "Don't wanna fuck me now do ya?"

That last bit was meant to be a jab, at her or at himself who knew.

Trisha looked into nick's weary brown eyes. She could see pain and sorrow in them, helplessness. She could see that he was giving up, giving in, and letting go. She knew the instant she met him that he wasn't who he was pretending to be. She didn't know if he could sense it or not, or if that was the reason he decided to knock a hole in his carefully constructed wall.

"Nick, I don't know you very well," she paused, "I don't know you at all actually, but that doesn't sound like something you are more than something that happened to you."

His face went blank. Why was she still sitting here in his car with him? Why was she not running away, thinking him crazy or stupid or just plain weird and no longer desirable?

"Ya know, I think I heard about what happened to you on the news, as a matter of fact I did," she placed a firm yet gentle hand on his, "I didn't know it was you but, I remember thinking to myself, if that were me, I wouldn't have made it, I would have died in the ground, God bless whoever the brave soul was that crawled out of that Hell to live another day."

Bullshit, he thought. But why? Why was it bullshit? She had called it Hell, how could she know? Why was he fighting against himself so fiercely?

She smiled warmly, and with that smile his face softened, his shoulders relaxed and for the first time in a long time, he felt relieved. Someone knew, and they didn't judge him, they didn't expect him to act a certain way, Trisha was content with just letting him be. She could tell the moment he met her, he knew it. Something in him knew it and he figured that's why he blurted it out. His subconscious decided not to try and hide with her because she already knew.

"Do you want to come in? I understand if you don't, but, I'd love your company," he smiled at her, "and as attractive as you are, it's not just because I want to "fuck you" as you put it." She smiled back.

Who was this angel? He thought. Maybe life didn't suck so badly after all, and if he could open up to this woman, maybe in time he could open up to the team a little more, open up to himself a little more.

He didn't indeed "fuck her" that night, or the next time he saw her. It wasn't until they met again for the third time that things got intimate. And he didn't just have sex with Patricia Heeley, they connected, made love if you will. She listened to him, cared about his words; she wasn't just waiting for her turn to speak. If a complete stranger could possible love him even after all he'd been through, maybe anything was possible.

--

It was a scorching hot day in Vegas. He had gotten a call about a nasty five car pile up on highway 95 out of town. Cops couldn't begin to know what had happened and in what order. Nick, Sara, Warrick and Sophia were called to the scene; Brass was already waiting for them there. As Nick and Sara climbed out of his Chevy he could see the damage already. This was going to be a long, hot and nasty day.

"Whatcha got for us Jim?" Sara asked as they walked to the wreckage.

"Pretty much what you see is what you get. We've got a lot of bodies, in and out of the cars, some burned, some damaged so badly we're probably gonna have to send for dentals, all dead. We can't really make heads or tails of it all, the semi in the middle there is throwing things off a bit."

Brass then proceeded to ramble off a list of the people in order of discovery using hair color, approximate age, and gender. Nick didn't really listen to him, he missed it when Brass had said "Caucasian female, mid thirties, brown hair appearing to have missed most of the physical damage, but having died from a broken neck."

Nick walked up to the scene running on auto pilot like he usually did nowadays when he had a scene this big to process. It was then he noticed the back of a silver Acura Integra. It peaked his interest at first but what clenched the deal was the sticker in the back window. It was a pink palmetto tree and crescent moon, the symbol from the South Carolina state flag. Trisha was a Carolina girl.

It was at that moment that something inside him broke. He didn't fall to his knees and scream, or ask God why, he didn't cuss or cry, he casually walked up to the totaled car that had become one with a family SUV. The door was open; paramedics probably thought she was still alive since she looked untouched. She was leaning out of the car, held in by her seat belt. She was still and angel. Her long silky brown hair was blowing lightly in the hot desert breeze. His jaw clenched. He squatted down next to her and without thinking ran his fingers through her hair.

Sara came up behind him. "What are you doing?" she scolded, "do you know her?"

Nick sighed, "No, no I don't." He lied.

"Then what's with the touchy feely?" He really hated Sara nowadays; she never could just shut the hell up and leave well enough alone.

"It's just a shame, a damn shame that something this beautiful…" he trailed off. Then without another word, he stood and walked away, never finishing his sentence.

With every step he took, ever bit of sanity he owned fell away. Nick Stokes was gone.