IRREVERSIBLE

CHAPTER 12

It's the devil's way now
There is no way out
You can scream and you can shout

It is too late now

2+25 by Radiohead

Thanks for the reviews guys, you've been so awesome.

Thanks to all the people who have signed on-I hope I don't disappoint you.

Thanks to Smokey for her beta!

"I just got off the phone with Sheriff McKay. He's going to send a cruiser out to the trailer park to check on Nick," Warrick said from the backseat of the Denali as he clicked his cell phone. The sun was beginning to set and an orange hue shone over the vehicle.

"I still don't think calling the sheriff was a good idea," Grissom said. "We might risk Nick taking off somewhere else again. We don't know what his state of mind is."

"And that's why he needs to be watched," Catherine told him. "It's for Nick's own protection. We didn't tell the man why he needs to be checked, just to please do us a favor."

She looked in the mirror and could see Warrick's arms crossed, his eyes red with anger and fear, his goatee showing signs of grey. He was still struggling to come to grips with what happened. His face wore a seething anger, the kind she'd seen the day Nick was kidnapped.

Greg wore a blank expression and had been wearing the same expression since the day he found the clothes in the closet. He was like a zombie.

Never mind. They had to deal with this on their own terms. Catherine's number one priority was ensuring Nick didn't add to his troubles by carrying out some revenge plan.

xxXXxx

The smell of barbecued chicken permeated the air as Nick sat at the picnic table quietly eating while Mr. and Mrs. Riley argued about who would make a better president, John McCain or Barack Obama.

"McCain's more experienced!" Mr. Riley exclaimed while barbecue sauce dribbled on his chin.

"Yes, but Obama brings fresh blood to the White House. I don't want to go through another dynasty. Been there, done that, got the vast amounts of poverty to go with it," Mrs. Riley said, passing him a napkin before turning to Nick. "Who would you like to see win?"

"Uh…" Nick hesitated as he wasn't really sure what was happening on the US political scene other then Obama won the Democratic nomination.

Catherine should be happy.

"John McCain," Lee smirked. "I mean, you are from Texas, home of the Bushes!"

Nick shrugged. His mind was on anything but politics at the moment. "It doesn't matter to me."

"Are you okay?" Eponine asked while spreading some Thousand Island dressing on her garden salad.

Nick looked at her and smiled assuring. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Did you two have a nice evening?" Mrs. Riley winked.

Eponine smiled back. "It was awesome!"

"The play or afterwards?" Mrs. Riley asked with a knowing grin.

"Oh for God's sake, Marg!" Mr. Riley groaned, half embarrassed half exasperated. "You're so damn nosey. Nick, accept my apologies for my nosey wife."

Nick wasn't too concerned about who knew what and answered, "Don't worry about it."

The choice for music today was given to Stephanie, and of course, being of preteen years, she chose a CD mix comprised of all things High School Musical, The Jonas Brothers, and Miley Cyrus who was singing about how she couldn't wait to see her crush again.

"She's got a good voice," Nick commented. "I actually like this song."

"Got a crush on Miley, don't you?!" Lee smirked. "Careful, if Billy Ray catches that some 40 year old man has a crush on his 16 year old daughter, he'll be hunting you down."

"I'm 36, and I was making a statement of fact. The kid can sing." Nick sighed in exasperation.

Stephanie joined in with Miley and twirled around with her beret.

"Personally," he whispered to Eponine, "I think Miley's got some stiff competition coming up."

Eponine smiled. "Yeah, but she doesn't have Billy Ray's pull with the industry."

"Aww, don't let that stop her." Nick munched on some salad, noticing he hadn't put any dressing on it.

Stephanie came twirling around and around singing, "Oh, she's just being Miley!" beret on head, while perfecting an arabesque, leaning on Nick's shoulder for balance.

"Can you dance with me, Nick?" She grinned.

"Maybe later," he said and watched as she lost her grip and fell onto her mom.

"Stephanie!" Her mom said as the little girl crashed into her. "For crying out loud, will you sit down and eat!"

"I'm not hungry. Can't Charlie come out?"

"Charlie's been acting strange all day, Stephanie. I thought he should stay inside," Eponine told her. "Now eat!"

"Can I go to Amanda's?" She scooped in between Eponine and Nick and started to munch on a kebob.

"Take two bites and I'll say yes," her mother said firmly.

Stephanie took two teeny bites of chicken and was off.

Nick asked, "What's with Charlie?"

"He's been nervous all day and barking. I don't know what's up with him," Eponine dismissed as the dog barked loudly.

"Sometimes animals are trying to tell you something when they act up," Nick told her, hoping the dog would alert Eponine to any danger.

But she was resolute in keeping him in the trailer as she answered, "No, he's being a pain."

Lee sipped a frothy Coors and said, "I should call my girlfriend before she wonders what I'm up to."

"Oh god!" Eponine groaned. "You are so pussy whipped!"

Lee's blue eyes dazzled. "Yeah, I sure was the other day."

"How did that lubricant work?" Mrs. Riley asked.

"FANTASTIC!!" Lee pumped his fist in the air triumphantly like a runner who had just finished the Boston Marathon.

"Good, it's supposed to make you tingle to the point where you blow to pieces," she said.

"Oh yeah!" Lee smiled in memory.

Nick cleared his throat, shocked at the old lady's very open talk. Mr. Riley leaned over and said, "I've been listening to this for years, Nick, I'm used to it."

"Oh I'm learning real fast!" Nick told the old man sheepishly, throwing a meaningful glance towards a blushing Eponine.

"I knew it!" Mrs. Riley clasped her hands together. "I knew you two would get together! That's why I brought her all the condoms. So did you like the fluorescent one, Nick?"

"Umm..." Nick felt his face turning 50 shades of red. "Can we go back to talking about Obama and McCain? I really kind of like Obama."

"Nick's an old fashion southerner," Eponine explained, feigning a poor southern accent. "They don't talk about sex in Texas."

"So, you know I really like Obama, and I think he's a great choice for president." Nick bounded along trying to steer the conversation away from his evening with Eponine. His mind was on far more serious matters; how to relate what he knew about McVeigh without causing a commotion. Eponine was liable to go over to McVeigh's and kick him out of the park immediately, but would that be a good thing? His mind raced with questions and explanations.

Everyone broke into laughter, and soon the table was cleared as Nick helped Eponine bring the dishes into the kitchen. "You know," she whispered huskily, "I could kick my brother out and ask Amanda's mom if Stephanie could spend the night."

Nick sorted the recyclables out from the garbage, placing the plates and bottles into the blue bin and the cardboard into the grey bin and said, "Yeah, if you want," thinking it would be a good time tonight to tell her. He looked at her on the phone and decided no, it was the right time now. It was only after the little girl had trotted off that he realized it might be too late. A red flag had been waving at him since the child had left and now it had turned into a full fledged red alert!

"Hi Shelly, it's Ep. How are you doing? Listen, can Stephanie stay the night with you? Fabulous! Just tell her to come back and I'll…what do you mean she's not there? She said she was going to your house. Okay...thanks."

She hung up the phone and looked alarmed at Nick as he finished placing the recyclables in the appropriate container. Al Gore would be so proud.

"She's not there," Eponine said.

Nick took a deep breath. "Okay…well maybe she wandered off to the basketball court."

"Yeah, that sounds like something she would do." Eponine stared at him, fear-stricken.

"Let me go check," Nick said, and he quickly walked out the door.

Lee was talking on the cell phone and saw the worried look on Nick's face. "Just a minute, babe. What's up?"

"Stephanie didn't show up at her friend's place," Nick explained. "I'm going to check the basketball court."

Lee told his girlfriend he'd have to get back to her and clicked his cell phone shut. "I'll go around to some of the neighbours and see if she decided to go visit another kid."

xxXXxx

She wasn't at the basketball court. Nick called her name over and over while feeling the panic in him. The birds in the cage were beginning to flap around madly again. His breathing was sporadic and panicked as he berated himself for not saying anything.

"Please God," he mumbled as McVeigh's threat repeated itself in his head.

He ran back to the trailer where Mrs. Riley stood wringing her hands. "She's still not here. Eponine's getting the neighbour's together." Soon they were flocking to Eponine's trailer, talking about where the little girl could be.

"Have you checked your trailer, Nick?" Lee asked.

Nick hadn't, so he quickly darted over to it, knowing she wouldn't be there. She wasn't allowed to go into anyone's trailers alone, but the kid had Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder and sometimes her mind wandered off. It was something he'd noticed when he was teaching her some basketball trick. As a teenager, Nick had worked with kids with Attention Deficit problems, and all they needed was to be brought back to the here and now, so it was no big deal. Her mother seemed to be more upset about it than Stephanie was.

Nick looked around his trailer. The rifle was still on the table where he'd left it. His cell phone was flashing. He picked it up and thought for a second about calling Catherine until it occurred to him that perhaps Stephanie was at McVeigh's trailer and maybe he had time to get the man before he headed off with her. He bolted out of his trailer and raced over to McVeigh's, averting the bird's nest.

The sun was beginning to set, and its orange glow joined in with the ominous feeling he had. A flurry of conversations replayed themselves. McVeigh's threat was the dominant one, while Grissom's analysis of his sleep paralysis also joined in…that in some cultures it was a warning of ominous things to come

"Come on out, McVeigh! Now!" Nick shouted through the door. "Come out now! Don't fucking hide in there!"

Nick steadied himself and walked around, then found something that caught his attention over to the right of the trailer. He walked toward it slowly as if in a dream, then bent down, picked it up, and clasped it. A haunting voice had replaced the conversations:

"There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren't any floors for me to sweep

Not in my castle on a cloud"

It was Stephanie's beret.

He'd gone with Eponine to see the little girl singing on stage about castles in clouds.

She had sat on her knees, hands crossed in her lap, dressed in the shapeless frock and shawl, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, her face grimy with dirt as was called for the character of Cossette, a little girl whose mom had left her with an innkeeper and his wife who proceeded to abuse her. The song about wishing to be in a happier place was sung so convincingly that several members of the audience were breaking into tears. Stephanie's brown eyes were looking from side to side to make sure each and every person heard her, but most of the time her eyes were on her mom who was dabbing at her eyes in pride and looking at Nick who was thoroughly impressed by the kid's pipes.

Nick stared closely at the trailer and walked around to see if he could find anything else. He noticed that McVeigh's car wasn't there. The guy had been driving a black SUV with fuzzy dice in the window. Tacky.

Slowly he made his way back to Eponine's trailer. She was standing and talking to some of the neighbours, her eyes wide with worry. She turned and saw Nick walking toward her gravely and saw the beret. She went over to grab it. "Where did you find this?" She snatched it away and held it close to her chest, her brown eyes looking stricken at the sight of it.

"McVeigh's trailer."

"What?!" Eponine cried out in shock. "What the hell would it be doing there, Nick?!"

Nick held his arms out, unable to say anything. Eponine stared daggers at him, and a look of abhorrence came over her face as realization of the truth came to being. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to match and reality woke her up.

"This is about you!" She looked at him, her eyes changing from fear to anger. "This is about you, isn't it? He knows you're here and knows we've been seeing each other." As she spoke she shook the beret at him fiercely.

Nick stood there speechless, unsure of what to say or if he should say anything. Finally he said, "Yes, it is."

She motioned for him to come with her behind her trailer. Nick braced himself for the tirade. "It was him that attacked you? It's all coming together now. You got attacked in a prison; he's a recent parolee; you're here!! Why in God's name are you here, Nick?! Answer me now!" Eponine's voice was laced with seething anger as she pumped him for imformation.

"I …don't…know..." He stuttered because she was right. "I …"

"There was a fucking rapist in my park and you didn't even tell me!!" Her voice was rising to an almost scream. "You son of a bitch!!" Eponine pounded on his shoulders with both fists, screeching, "And he's got my daughter, Nick, he's got my daughter!! I've only got one daughter, Nick, and now she's gone. She's probably dead and it's all your fucking fault!! All of it, Nick Stokes, every fucking ounce of it. I hate you!!"

She continued pounding him while he tried to grab her wrists as she collapsed into deep sobs. Nick went down with her and held her, gasping "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!" as felt his lungs and heart struggle for air with the realization his lie had turned deadly.

There was nothing more heart-wrenching than the sound of a mother who has lost her child. He'd heard that same grievous howl many times in his career, but now…knowing that he had something to do with it, the pain shot through him as well as if he'd lost a child. The guilt was overwhelming and knife-like, as if a machete had done a through and through his entire being.

Mrs. Riley ran over and helped a shattered Eponine up, reassuring Nick that she'd take care of her.

"Have you called the police?" Nick asked, getting back onto his feet, trying to stay focused on the matter at hand.

"Yes, they're on their way," Mrs. Riley coldly told him as she helped Eponine back into her trailer.

Nick stood there wracked with fear and confusion as he clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to let the birds take over as they flapped madly inside him. He was just about to call his work to see if someone could come out when he heard a tense voice behind him.

Lee Sargent stood there scowling at him, his muscle bound arms folded, his blue eyes icy, a vein in his forehead seeming to pop out. "What did she mean, Nick? How is Stephanie's disappearance your fault?" he inquired"What does all this have to do with you?"

"Where do you think McVeigh could be?" Nick asked, trying to divert the questions.

Mr. Riley overheard the question while discussing how to start a search party and walked over to him. "Ruby's. He likes to go there a lot. Don't know why. He's not liked by many of the patrons."

Nick looked at Lee and asked, "Do you want to go find him?" He figured if there was going to be a fight; at least let the man beat the one who's at the source of all the trouble here

Lee weighed the thought and then nodded. "You can explain to me in the car why this all goes back to you."

xxXXxx

The team was pulling into the park as Nick's Tahoe pulled out. They narrowly missed each other as the team was distracted by the number of local cruisers heading to the scene.

"What's going on?" Catherine asked as one of them pulled over and got out, darting over to the flurry of cops surrounding the entrance. A beat up sign flashing King Park Trailer in red with its lights starting to come on spotlighted the way in.

Folding her arms, she called out, "Are any of you Sheriff McKay?"

Grissom soon joined her as they tried to get their attention. An older, balding man with a stout build walked toward them. "Yeah I am. You guys from the Vegas lab?"

The entomologist extended his hand and introduced the team to the portly man.

"Well, we're not able to track your friend down as we received a call from a mom here that her daughter was snatched."

Catherine felt a tug on her heart. This case was close to home, and she looked at Grissom who nodded to her. "Let's go see what we can do."

Sheriff McKay was delighted for their help, and he led them to the scene where they spotted a curvaceous woman in her late 30s or early 40s, 5 feet 5 with long black curly hair, looking frazzled and pleading with an older woman of about 50 who was dressed in jeans and a crisp blue blouse, her blackish grey hair swept back in a band.

"Eponine!" McKay called. "C'mere!"

The woman walked over, eyeing Grissom, Catherine, Greg, and Warrick suspiciously. Catherine recognized this stare. It was a look given to outsiders, particularly from those in the lower income bracket since and seemingly felt that the law only cared about them if they had committed a crime. After all, people in trailer parks were thought of as meth dealers and such and unworthy of any legal protection.

"Eponine, this is Gil Grissom and his team. They're criminalists from Vegas."

She eyed them with a measured suspicion and then replaced it with hostility. "So did he ask you guys to come here?"

Catherine and Grissom looked at one another and he asked, "He who?"

"Nick!" she said her tone dripped in anger the mere mention of that name.

"You know Nick?" Catherine asked, trying to figure out how one connected with the other.

"So he didn't send you here," Eponine concluded, confused. "Why are you here then?"

"We were here initially to find Nick, but now we'd like to help out," Catherine told her, trying to emphasize her seriousness in this, but this woman obviously didn't trust her, didn't believe her, and didn't want them in her park.

"We've got it covered," she told her defiantly, "so take your friend, Nick, and get the fuck out of my park!"

Catherine and Grissom stared at each other in shock before the Supervisor stepped forward and told her "We can probably help you find your daughter a lot faster, so whatever your issue with my team member is needs to be cast aside so we can bring her home."

For a second it looked as if Eponine was going to throttle Grissom with her bare hands, so Catherine stepped in. "Please…I'm a mom. I know how you feel. My daughter was kidnapped not too long ago. I know how frightened you are. We can help, and while I don't know why Nick is not here, I assume he's probably out now looking for her. I've known him for eight years. He's not one to give up."

The woman's eyes softened and finally she nodded. "Fine. I'd like your help then."

Suddenly an older man came up to them. "Nick and Lee over to find McVeigh at the bar, not too long ago."

"What?!" Eponine gasped in shocked.

"What do you mean he's gone to find McVeigh?" Grissom asked. "And why does Nick think that McVeigh had something to do with this?"

The older man said, "Nick was convinced that McVeigh was involved. He found Stephanie's beret at his trailer and took off with Lee to Ruby's."

"Where's Ruby's?" Warrick demanded.

"Oh my God!" Eponine cried. "Lee is going to kill McVeigh if he's gone over there!"

"He's not the only one," Warrick told her.

"Nick's been watching McVeigh for weeks. He came here saying he knew the guy was up to no good," she told Warrick, then lowered her voice and continued. "McVeigh did something pretty awful to Nick and now...oh God…" She looked at them, pleadingly, "We can take care of Stephanie here, but..."

"McVeigh might have the answer," Grissom answered, impressed with the woman's ability to stay focused. "And if something happens…"

"We'll never find Stephanie!" Eponine turned and looked around. "I'm going to go get my brother."

"No, you need to stay here," Warrick told her.

While Mr. Riley gave the coordinates of the bar's location to the crew, Greg turned to Catherine and Grissom. "Let me stay here and help out. You guys go find Nick and stop him before he does something stupid."

Catherine was torn, but Grissom had the final say. "Good idea, Greg. Catherine and Warrick, come with me."

The blonde criminalist pleaded to stay, but Grissom held fast. "You're the only one who can reach Nick before he does something really stupid. I will probably say the wrong thing, Catherine, and right now we can't take risks. We're not dealing with someone who's fully on board. The guy is in hiding. We need to treat him as a potential criminal!"

xxXXxx

Nick drove with Lee, explaining to him in an abbreviated manner what led him to the trailer park. He felt a pulse in his temple thumping and wished for a second he'd brought his rifle. Oh well, his fists would suffice, and he did have his Glock on him. He'd use it if he had to.

"So, you're here to seek revenge on this guy who attacked you, and somehow my sister and my niece got tangled up in it," Lee said with a scornful laugh. "I'd like to fucking deck you right now for this. Why didn't you just stay away?"

"I don't know," Nick answered.

"I mean, hey man, I'd feel the same way as you. If some guy did that to me, I'd want to kill him. Is that what you intended?" Lee looked at him.

Nick didn't answer him and was grateful that Ruby's bright fluorescent lights came up before them. He tore into the parking lot, relieved to see McVeigh's SUV there. "He's here!" Nick said to Lee as they jumped out of the car.

The two men ran into the bar, the bells clanging as they went through the door. Patrons looked up and were startled to see Nick, who'd they met over the weeks, walk in with a face of rage. It was a sheer contrast from the quiet, friendly, man who'd played darts and cards with the locals. His eyes scanned the room for a minute before settling on McVeigh who sat solo with a few beers, slouched back on the chair feet on the table, taping his fingers along with the jukebox.

All eyes were on Nick and the room grew silent as they took in his determined stand.

"If I didn't know better," he heard one of them say, "I'd think he was Sweeney Todd."

"He kind of looks like Johnny Depp," another said.

"Oh God no, Johnny's a god."

Nick felt like Sweeney Todd as he saw McVeigh sitting there casually drinking a beer. A murderous rage was only being held back by a thread as he strolled over with a maniacal smile, motioning for Lee to walk behind him. The blonde man nodded and did so. Pulling up a chair with the back of the seat facing McVeigh, Nick straddled the chair with an incensed look that surprised the parolee. "Hello, McVeigh." The cold and decisive tone in his voice even surprised Nick. He'd heard that tone used by murderers and serial killers - the kind of tone that no longer held humanity in any regard.

"Well, well, well." McVeigh smiled amusingly. "It's the judge's boy!"

"I have a name. Nick Stokes, remember? We went to high school together." He smiled evilly, his left eye twitching, his hands aching to be around McVeigh's throat right now, draining the life out of him. He felt his jaw clench, and then suddenly he felt something in his brain pull tighter as insanity and sanity seemed to tug on his moral.

Indeed, he was feeling like a murderous barber. His pocket knife beckoned him saying, "Hey, Nicky, since you didn't use me on your wrists, why don't you use me on the man's jugular."

"Shut up!" he silently told it. "Maybe later!"

"I know your name, cowboy. I remember you…all of you, in fact." He sipped his beer while winking at Nick who simply stared at him, unprovoked.

"Where's Stephanie Sargent?" Nick asked.

"Who?" By the look in his eyes it was obvious that McVeigh very well knew who she was, but denial was not just a river in Egypt.

"The little girl with the beret."

"Oh her!" McVeigh shrugged. "I don't know. She was dancing around my trailer earlier."

"Now why would she be there when her friend that she was visiting is on the other side of the park?" Nick cocked his head to one side, scrutinizing in the same stern tone he used on criminals. Then he gripped the back of the chair and leaned over. "You can save yourself now if you just tell me where she is, because one way or another I'm going to get the information out of you."

Nick's eyes were ablaze, his face contorted in a venomous pose like a cobra ready to strike. He overheard one of the patrons say, "This is scary."

"He's certainly looking like Sweeney Todd at the moment."

An evil smile tugged on his lips, his eyes in slits. Yes indeed, Nicky my boy, the Texan told himself…you will have vengeance.

"Look, cowboy, I don't know what you're talkin about, but I'm out of here." McVeigh started to stand up and suddenly found himself gripped from behind by Lee Sargent, a tall muscular man with muscles that reminded Nick of better times when he was fit like that.

Johnny Cash came on singing about God cutting you down.

You can run on for a long time

Sooner or later God's gonna cut you down

Despite his wasted frame, ravaged by Hepatitis B, he had a lot of fight in him, for rage did that. It sent the adrenaline going at top speed, and right now it was driving Nick who abruptly stood up and kicked the chair which ricocheted across the room, crashing into a table. He grabbed McVeigh's collar and with Lee's help lifted him to his feet.

"What the fuck!!" McVeigh's eyes were wide with surprise and his breath...the smell..that familiar smell stirred unwanted memories in the Texan.

He could smell that smell as they rained kisses on his tear-streaked cheek.

"You're gonna tell me where Stephanie is McVeigh!" Nick growled, wolf-like, his teeth bared. He was breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping red in his brain.

If he was dog, he'd be considered rabid. He'd be labeled a 'dangerous dog' by the local animal control and sent to the death chamber.

If he was a wolf, he'd be battling the alpha male for dominance.

If he was a cat, he'd be a lion ready to defend his pride from a scraggly outsider.

McVeigh struggled against the vise grip of Lee Sargent, a man who, if he wanted to, could immediately become a member of the Ultimate Fighting Club. His blonde hair was cropped, revealing a large half circle scar from shrapnel wounds, his muscle rippled. He, too, wore a look of steadfast determination, ready to beat the information out of McVeigh.

Surprisingly, McVeigh was undeterred and yelled, "Fuck you, cowboy! Oh wait…I did that a few months ago!"

Nick could hear a collective sucking in of breath from the entire bar, and now that McVeigh had announced his shame to a bunch of strangers the rage took over. What little common sense was there made a fast retreat and the primal part of him took control of the panel.

THUD!! Blood spurted from McVeigh's mouth as Nick's fist went straight into it. He was recovering from that assault when another hit him in the stomach. Sweat was trickling down the sides of Nick's face as he stood there in a boxer stance, fists donned and ready to strike.

"Well! Are you going to tell me where she is?!" Nick yelled. "Or do you want some more?!" Oh, he hoped for more.

McVeigh smiled and sang, "Save a horse, ride a cowboy!!"

SNAP!

Nick grabbed McVeigh by his scraggly long hair and rammed his head into a table. A loud crack could be heard across the room and blood sprayed from a wound. After three slams, Lee leaned over and said to McVeigh, whose head wound was gushing blood, "I'll let him kill you if you don't tell me where my niece is!"

"Kiss my ass, soldier boy!!" McVeigh snarled, undeterred as Nick continued to pound the man's head into the table over and over again, small amounts of blood flying out from his mouth.

Nick stopped and roared, "Where is she?!"

McVeigh smiled and Nick returned with a kick to the gonads. McVeigh cried out in pain, and Nick leaned over and whispered, "How's that for you, cowboy?" McVeigh spit blood and phlegm straight into Nick's face, and Lee held him up as the Texan, wiping the crap off his face, tore into him with a growl.

McVeigh's face was a punching bag; each smash to the table brought more blood which sprayed onto the wall. Nick heard McVeigh moan, but was undeterred. After all, no matter how much he had cried while McVeigh ravaged him, he didn't stop. No matter how much Nick had pleaded through the cloth for them to please stop hurting him, they never stopped. So why should he stop?

Lee called to him, "Nick, I think he's had enough."

"But I haven't!" He didn't recognize his own voice anymore.

"No man, you're gonna kill him."

"I don't fucking care!!" Nick was about to grab McVeigh for one more round when he heard a familiar voice ringing through the red haze.

"Nick!!"

Gasping, Nick whipped around and saw Grissom, Catherine, and Warrick standing there, looking at him in absolute horror.

Lee held up McVeigh who was losing consciousness, blood continuing to trickle from his mouth and the gash in his head.

Nick looked at his hands and saw what he'd done as if in a dreamlike trance. Blood. It coated his knuckles, his fingers, and his college ring. He looked at McVeigh's face, covered in blood, and then felt something called pity poke its head through the haze of rage.

Then he saw their faces, and the primal world he'd been in slowly retreated back into the human world.

Grissom stood there shocked, his eyes wide with fear, while Catherine looked pleadingly at him with a look that broke his heart. Warrick looked at him with anger and fear combined and walked over to him, grabbed him, and dragged him out of the bar as a uniformed officer tended to the injured McVeigh. Lee Sargent had brought him down to the floor and surprisingly began to apply first aid by yelling for an ice bag.

The Vegas team, meanwhile, had taken their raging colleague outside to calm him before anymore damage could be done.

"What the hell are you all doing here?!" Nick shouted, trying to free himself from Warrick's grip. Warrick pushed him up against the truck, his head slamming against it and stars dancing before his eyes.

Words were spoken to him. They were calm, but he was still in delirium with anger. A voice inside Nick began to scream as they confronted him with what had led them here. It was denial saying he was not yet ready to deal with what led him to the trailer park.

They knew. NO!!

They found his clothes. OH FUCK NO!!

They found the rag. JESUS NO!!

They found the cord. NO!!

Nick grabbed the form, read it, and looked up. Why were they showing this to him?

Then he heard the words. They knew. They knew everything. They knew his secret.

No matter how much he clamped his hands over his ears; no matter how much he screamed at them not to say it...DON'T FUCKING SAY IT! They knew. It was out in the open, and they all knew.

His team knew.

His boss knew.

His friends knew.

The world knew.

Nick's world was spinning out of control and he wanted to get the hell off, but he couldn't. He shoved the form away because in no way could he deal with it. No. He couldn't imagine going before the courts and having to go through the whole experience again, the judge listening giddily as he recalled how his pants had been forced down to his knees, and how they…caused...him… his body to react in ways that it shouldn't have reacted.

When animals are trapped they fight, but he had none of that left. So flight was the next option, but they wouldn't let him leave.

I want to fucking run, just run! Please let me go...I can't deal with this anymore...I just fucking can't.

Nick's knees were rubbery and his stomach coiled and churned. He tried to run back to the bar, but he was held back by Warrick. He tried to convince them to let him find Stephanie, but they said no - it was not his case.

His world spun in circles, around and around, as he tried to get to his truck and run so far that no one on this earth would ever fucking see him again. He'd find a nice spot. Maybe he'd go to Canada…to Algonquin Park and listen to the wolves howl and then, just then he'd eat his gun and be done with it and then his body would be eaten by the wolves. They'd roll in his blood, letting the other wolves know that it was their meal and not anyone else's.

Trying not to drown himself in useless thoughts, he looked at his colleagues again and pleaded with them to please let him help, and when they wouldn't he simply broke down and sobbed. Catherine walked over and held him tight like she'd held her own daughter through many a night after Eddie died.

"I don't know what to fucking do!" he sobbed.

"We doin' the judge's boy!"

"Squeal for me piggy!"

She shushed him and told him it would be okay. This was so unlike the man who had told her a dark secret several years ago, but time and trauma had taken its toll. The vileness of McVeigh's attack had ripped his soul to pieces, and she didn't know whether or not the pieces could be put back together.

She looked at Grissom who was at a total loss at this moment, and it took all she had to not dig a Prada into his ankle as the man stood bewildered. Why in God's name couldn't he ever be there for Nick as he had been for her, Sara, and Warrick. Why?

Calmness seemed to take hold of him, and once more Nick asked to help and Grissom shook his head no. He looked at them pleadingly. Browns and blues faced him with sympathy, empathy, and horror. They were just as traumatized as he was.

Strangely enough, Nick felt somewhat relieved that they knew because it meant he didn't have to pretend anymore. He'd have never made a good actor. He was too open and honest about about ho he was feeling. The 'everything is okay' facade was cracking, soon shattering.

And then h e heard the sheriff tell him he was going to be arrested for his assault on McVeigh and he took a deep breath and allowed them to handcuff him and usher him to the vehicle. Nick didn't care what happened, because as far as he was concerned his life was pretty much over now. He was alone. And that was that.

This is the way Nick Stokes ends; not with a bang, but with a whimper.

A/N: Please don't despair. Not all is lost for Nick, I promise.

I do have a merciful side to me. I'll torture him a bit more and let up. I promise. I'd never leave my boy to suffer-too much. Tee heheheheh.