IRREVERSIBLE

CHAPTER 13

Just because I'm hurting
Doesn't mean I'm hurt
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve
No better and no worse

Lost-ColdPlay

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As the sheriff drove off, the team assembled together. There had to be a way to help Nick and to find this little girl.

Watching the vehicle drive away with her friend in it, Catherine turned to Grissom in an absolute frenzy, which was unlike her, but she was exhausted and drained. "What the hell are we going to do, Gil?"

"I don't know yet, Catherine," Grissom answered sharply, as even he was at a loss as to how to help Nick.

Sighing heavily with his hands on his hips, Warrick said, "I'll go back to the trailer park and help the police find the little girl."

Nodding, Grissom agreed. "I think that Catherine and I should go see Nick and find out any information he might know as to why he thinks McVeigh did it."

The sound of moans came from the bar's doorway. The team turned and watched as McVeigh was wheeled out in a stretcher out of the bar, his face battered and bruised. Catherine stormed over before Grissom could stop her and told the EMTs to halt.

"Ma'am," a young Asian male said, "we gotta get him to the ER."

"Just hold up!" she said as she walked beside McVeigh, her face twisted into a rage, her blue eyes filled with anger.

He looked up at her and smiled. "You an angel taking me to Heaven?"

"I know what you did to Nick. I have the proof," Catherine told him in a low, guttural voice that came from the pit of her stomach. "And I know in some way you are involved with that little girl's disappearance."

"My buddy and I were in the prison chapel that day. He can vouch for our whereabouts."

"Your buddy is dead." Grissom's voice came up from behind Catherine. "And he left a letter for Nick confessing what you and he did to him that day in the library and what you did to Conrad Noir, so you might as well as cough up the whereabouts of Stephanie Sargent, because either way you're going back to prison."

Through the bloodied, gauzed face Grissom could see that McVeigh was rattled by the news of Smith's death. His eyes filled with tears, but before he could say any more the EMT said, "We gotta get him to the ER or our jobs are on the line. Can you finish this there?"

Grissom looked at the young man and nodded. "We'll be over in a bit."

McVeigh's sobs could be heard inside the vehicle as the doors closed.

"Mr. Grissom," Sheriff MacKay called out, "I just got off the phone with Judge Butler. He's agreed to let Nick go on the condition that he get back out there and help with the search. The brother's been released already. I told you the charges wouldn't stick."

Grissom stared at him in shock and relief. Maybe there was a God looking out for them. "I've never heard of this kind of..." He was at a loss for words.

"We've been watching McVeigh for weeks. He's been giving everyone the creeps, and well…the judge said if he continued with the charges the community would be after him. So he's out there now with Eponine, and well…this was her idea. She insisted that neither of them be charged and he agreed. But don't let this get to anybody at the top. If they catch wind of this…"

Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes having friends in high places helped. "God, no. Your secret is safe with us."

"I appreciate that. I like the guy a lot. I don't know what his beef with McVeigh was…heard some stuff, but I don't believe it. McVeigh's a scumbag."

The team said nothing as it was better to leave it at that. Better McVeigh be known as a liar than Nick be known as a sexual assault victim.

Sighing with relief that Nick's career was preserved - for now, as Maddie Klein was not too happy to hear about Nick's vigilantism - Grissom turned and looked at Catherine. "I'm going to go to the hospital and see if I can get more info out of McVeigh. Now don't look at me like that. I think given what is going on here, Cat, that you're the best person to deal with Nick right now."

Catherine stared hard at him and he continued, "Please, I don't want to say the wrong thing to him again."

Her stance softened. "You're right."

"But don't take too long. You need to get him back out there and find that little girl," Grissom told her firmly. There was no time for emotions; no matter what the circumstances.

xxXXxx

Nick sat on a cold bench in the jail cell with nothing but a toilet and a Bible to keep him company. He picked up the book and immediately it flipped to Job. He tossed the book aside, laughing at the irony. If he could get out of this jail cell, he'd shave his head - he was good at that - and run out to the desert, tear his clothes off, and scream at God to curse the day he was born. But with his luck, someone from LVPD would be flying over and immediately charge him with public lewdness, even if the only thing in the desert that would see him would be a coyote, which would probably bite his dick off. If Nick didn't have bad luck, he'd have no luck. He'd rather have no luck.

The high was gone and now he had crashed. Eponine blamed him, and rightly so, for Stephanie's disappearance. It was his fault. If he hadn't come to the park seeking vengeance on McVeigh, nothing would have happened. Revenge had a heavy price, and now Nick had to deal with its consequences. He'd hurt numerous people on his journey to find McVeigh. His career was shot to hell because an arrest meant immediate dismissal. He couldn't imagine how hurt his parents would be.

And now the one bright spot in his life had kicked him to the curb. Oh, but he understood why Eponine was angry at him…why she hated him. He should have told her from the start. Why he didn't, he couldn't understand. The damage was irreversible.

He heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Catherine standing behind the bars while the sheriff unlocked the door. "You're free to go, Nick. The charges are dropped. Heck, they weren't even recorded."

Nick stared in shock at the older man who smiled. "You have Eponine to thank for this."

The Texan swallowed hard, nodded, and stepped out, looking at Catherine with a mixture of relief and fear of her reaction. Immediately Catherine went over and gathered him into her arms. "Nick, why didn't you come and tell me about this sooner? I would have helped you. You know I would have. Don't you trust me?"

Nick drew away and answered in a thick voice, "It wasn't about trust. It was about..." His eyes filled with tears as for the life of him he couldn't figure out what to say.

"I know," she said. "I understand fully."

"How did you find out about all this?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but let's get back and find that little girl," she said, tears streaming from her eyes.

They drove out in silence as Catherine pondered her next move. "What's your connection with Eponine?"

"We were involved," he explained and left it at that, not ready to talk about it. Nick ran a hand over his mouth. "Any word on Stephanie?

"No. Grissom and Warrick have gone back to help. Greg's there already," Catherine said. There was underlying tension as Catherine pondered about what to say and how to say it.

"Go ahead and ask. You're wondering why I'm here?" Nick asked while staring out the window.

Catherine looked quickly at him and confirmed, "Yeah. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I was out of it when I came here." He sighed. "I'm not sure if I'm all there yet."

"I know, Nick," she assured him.

"How did you guys find out?"

"It started with a phone call from the prison. Smith started bragging."

"Oh fuck. How many people know?!" Nick's voice went high pitched.

"Nick, that's not important, okay? Let's focus on how we can help Stephanie."

Nick leaned his head against the windowpane and bit his bottom lip, prompting Catherine to say, "I know, Nick, more than anyone on the team, how deeply this has affected you, and no matter what comes out of this, I'm here for you. We're here for you. Warrick was right. Nothing has changed as far as we're concerned. You're still the same person as you were before."

"But I'm not." He looked at her. "I'm not the same."

"I guess that's the wrong wording here. We all want justice for you, Nick. Okay?" Catherine gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as she struggled for the correct word usage.

"You know what it's like for people who have to go through the justice system when this happens to them. How many women have been scared to do it because they feel like they're being attacked by the system all over again? So how do you think I'm going to fucking feel? And I work for the damn system, Catherine."

Sighing, Catherine reluctantly agreed with him. "I agree 100 per cent, but there's also protection for your identity."

"I'm sure people are going to find out, Catherine. If Smith has been going around telling the guards and inmates, then before you know it the rumor mill will be at full speed touting 'Nick Stokes gets it up the ass at High Desert'!"

Catherine gritted her teeth hearing the Texan and the frank way he described his attack.

He continued, "You know how homophobic this profession is, don't you, Cat? I mean, why do you think I'd get so damn pissed off when Greg was doing his little flirt bit with me? It had nothing to do with being gay or me being a homophobe; it's the reaction from the other guys. How many gay guys are running the show over at LVPD?"

"I know, Nick," she said. "I understand. So what if it does get out, Nick, then what do you have to lose? If it's going to get out there, then at least have the final say on the matter by having McVeigh charged. Be known as the one who brought his assailant to justice."

"Oh, and be Saint Nick, the Patron Saint of Raped Men?" he said sarcastically. "I fucking don't think so."

"What do you have to lose, Nick?" Catherine asked. "What, you have nothing to lose? At least file a lawsuit against the prison. Something good has to come out of this. I can't stand the idea that this has happened to you. It pisses me off. Do something. Promise me you will do something so that McVeigh won't get away with it."

"And Smith?"

"He's dead, Nick." Nick was clearly stunned by the news as Catherine continued, "He committed suicide. We have a letter from him. He wrote an apology to you, and he confessed to the murder of Conrad Noir and attacking you."

The world spun for Nick as he contemplated the news and then he brightened. "I think I know where she is!"

"Stephanie?!"

"Yeah, McVeigh works for a junkyard just four miles down the road from here."

Catherine's eyes widened and she declared, "I'm on my way. You stay here."

"No! I'm going to find her," Nick told her in a voice that said she dare not challenge him. But she was a tough girl and proceeded to do so.

"You can't use this as a way to redeem yourself to her mom, Nick," Catherine said.

"It's not about that. I know things about Stephanie. If the police find her, she won't come out."

"Well, we have to call them."

"Fine. Let me go in there and look for her. She won't come out for anyone else. That's why Eponine wants me to help, because Stephanie doesn't trust very many people, but she trusts me," Nick explained, trying to convince Catherine this was not a "white knight" moment. This was for all intents and purposes a practical decision.

"I don't know, Nick. Are you sure?" Catherine could hear the desperation in her voice and knew that Nick was probably right. The kid was probably traumatized, and a police presence would make it worse.

"I just know her, okay? She's a quirky kid. Please let me out of here. I know how to find her. If she sees police, she'll flee. It's a long story. I know how to do it."

"Stephanie's dad was a cop," Eponine told him one evening as they sat on the tree stump. "He was a drunk and a dirty cop. One night, a few of his friends popped by while Stephanie was asleep. She woke up to find them beating the living shit of him. Ever since then, cops scare her. I blame her dad for her ADHD. Trauma causes ADHD."

Nick shook his head. "No, it's a genetic thing, Eponine. It's just a quirk in our brains."

"Well, she's terrified of cops. Her godfather has to change out of his uniform before he can visit her.

XxXXXxx

Grissom smelled his shirt and realized that he needed to catch up on some laundry. He felt dank and dirty in the hospital hallway surrounded by sterility - a sharp contrast. He opened Nick's file titled "John Doe" and looked at the form Sara had told him about. He shut the file. It would be useless if Nick refused to press charges. The entomologist couldn't blame the guy. Hell, he wouldn't file charges if it had happened to him.

A quick look at McVeigh pretty much explained why the Texan didn't fight back…or couldn't fight back. McVeigh was almost 6 and a half feet tall and built like a Teamster trucker. He was all girth and all muscle, with no neck, for that matter. The guy was built like a Kodiak bear. No, Nick didn't have a chance. Cap that with a gun being pressed up against his head and no, there was nothing he could have done to stop them. Doc Robbins was right. Nick was lucky to be alive, especially given that the initial plan was to kill him after it was done. Only a hair's breadth of remorse from McVeigh's friend saved the CSI's life.

A tall, bald man with piercing blue eyes, dressed in green scrubs and a white physician's coat walked toward him. "Dr. Grissom? I'm Doctor Longridge, the ER physician treating McVeigh. I understand you wish to speak to him."

"Yes. I'm from the Las Vegas crime lab. I need to find out some information about Stephanie Sargent."

"He's conscious, so you can speak to him for a few minutes," Dr. Longridge said. "He sustained a concussion, but he'll be fine." The doctor gave the appearance that he really didn't care one way or another what happened to his patient as he was simply fulfilling his Hippocratic Oath. Information traveled fast in this town. McVeigh was scum that wasn't worth any kind of compassion

"Thank you."

Grissom walked toward the room and could hear McVeigh mumbling behind the curtain. The bugman pulled the curtain back and saw an officer standing there beside him. McVeigh lay handcuffed to the bed.

"You!" McVeigh's face was full of hatred, a bandage spread across his billboard of a forehead. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I want to know where the little girl is," Grissom charged.

"I didn't rape her. Okay? I'm not into kids." He smiled insidiously.

Grissom smirked, cocked an eyebrow, and remarked, "Oh, I know that for sure." Then he glanced at the officer and asked, "Can I just have a minute with him? I can assure you he's not going anywhere."

"I'll stand off by the opening of the curtain," the older, black, muscle bound man with a goatee said, his eyes glaring daggers. "You took one of my friend's kids. You know that, right? You're not getting away with this." Then he was gone.

The entomologist stood over him. "So where is Stephanie?"

"She's not dead. I can tell you that. I took her somewhere that I know real well." McVeigh smiled and then asked Grissom, "You're a friend of Nick Stokes, aren't you?"

"We work together."

"Yeah, he was real sweet that day. He really enjoyed himself."

"I don't know about that, McVeigh. I think the only person who enjoyed himself was you. I mean, you got revenge on Judge Bill Stokes by irreversibly messing up his son."

"Yeah, he had it coming," McVeigh said with a justified look.

"Bill Stokes or Nick Stokes?" Grissom queried.

McVeigh thought about it and said, "Both. Smug do-gooders, they are. They have no idea what it's like being me. See, I was a victim of crime myself, and therefore it was only natural to continue on down the food chain. It was the only way I could not let those who hurt me win."

"No, you're wrong. " Grissom shook his head and countered, "I think Nick of all people knows what it's like to be a victim of crime. The only difference between you and him is that he turned those events into motivators to help others. You, on the other hand, let those who attack you win, because you stayed a victim while Nick became a survivor."

McVeigh sneered at him and then grew silent. Judging by the angry, defiant look the criminal wore, Grissom knew there was little more he could do to get information out of him about Stephanie's whereabouts. He phoned Catherine and relayed the news.

"We're on our way to the junkyard where McVeigh works. Nick thinks that's where she is," she told him.

"I'll get the sheriff over there to meet you."

"Tell them to stay out of the yard until we've given the all clear. Stephanie's terrified of cops."

xxXXxx

Junkyards look spooky in the dark, especially when they are surrounded by guard dogs. Nick felt a wave of sympathy for the animals. They looked like they could use a good meal and a long bath. He made a mental note to talk to the local humane society about them.

A cacophony of barking greeted the two criminalists as they pulled over and rang the 24 hour number that was listed on the billboard over the 20 foot tall fence. The owner came out to meet them. She was a woman in her 50s who looked like she'd seen many a bad day. She had scraggly black hair cut into a bob and a bone-thin body.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet us here," Catherine told the woman who was dressed in black leather pants and a pink tank top, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. She reminded Nick of his wacky neighbour, Mrs. Matthews, the crazy cat lady.

Catherine handed Nick a huge flashlight, taking one of her own, and they agreed to split up and keep their cell phones on to contact each other. Nick took a deep breath and walked through rows and rows of old cars headed for car heaven. Most had had parts removed and sold off to dealerships, and most were old-time American gas guzzlers.

A rat scurried by, its beady eyes glaring at Nick before scurrying under a fleet of cars. He followed another one under a familiar old white Buick whose windows had long since been removed. An old pair of fuzzy dice hung from the mirror. He heard sobs coming from the old car. The sobs were followed by a familiar haunting tune. Instantly, the Texan recognized it, and he also recognized that at this moment Stephanie was terrified. Her little mind was going off in sporadic directions, clinging to the safety of a song about better places, such as castles in clouds, and safe people like a lady dressed in white.

Holding his arm, Nick scanned the flashlight around, following the direction of the voice. As he shone it on the old white Buick, the voice stopped. Nick walked closer and called to her, "Stephanie, it's Nick."

Silence.

"Hey, do you want to come out and play soccer or something? You sure kicked my butt the last time."

Silence. A rat scurried by his feet, its beady eyes scowling at him before dashing off into another car.

"Stephanie, it's me Nick! Please, honey, I know you're here. Please say something. Let me know you're here."

Silence.

Nick inhaled deeply and said, "You know, sweetie, I know what's like to be so scared out of your mind that you can barely breathe. I bet that's how you're feeling now, right?"

A small sob.

"You know, I've been scared many times, and sometimes I sing too. I sang a song over and over waiting for someone to come rescue me a long time ago. You wanna try that? Can you sing for me, sweetie?"

No answer.

"Stephanie!" Nick called, fighting the urge to run to the car and simply pull her out. But that would traumatize her more. Who knew what McVeigh had said to her about him? Who knew what he had done to her? If that man was capable of raping someone like him, a fully grown adult male, then God knows what he'd do to a nine-year-old girl.

Still no answer.

"Stephanie, please sing for me. I love to hear you sing, honey. Remember? You're the next Miley Cyrus."

Silence.

"Stephanie, please sing for me. Just a few lines from that song you sang to everyone the other day when you were in Les Miserables," Nick said, trying to pronounce it as best he could.

A tiny sob, then "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."

He raced over and shone the light in on Stephanie's tear-stained face from the back leather seat. Her long hair was streaked with grime, and her hands were bound with yellow rope behind her back. She was dressed in her pink Hannah Montana T-shirt, now ruined with grease, pink Capri pants, and pink Crocs. Her long curly hair was streaked with dirt. She sat crossed-legged and her eyes looked him pleadingl as she sang on and on while Nick opened the door and reached inside, but as he tried to grab her she screamed, "NO!! Don't touch me!!"

"Why?" he asked.

"He told me you were a bad man and that you were going to kill my mother and that's why he took me here." Stephanie slid on her bum backwards out of Nick's reach.

Nick said, "Who?"

"That guy that's been watching us for weeks. You called him McVeigh!"

"Honey, he's lying," Nick choked out. "I'm not a bad man. I'm a good guy. I would never hurt your mom or you."

"He told me you did some bad things to people and ruined their lives and now you were going to ruin my mom's life."

"Sweetie, he's lying. He's the bad guy. He put you here!" Nick tried to convince her. "Please, just trust me and let me help you out of the car."

She looked at him, and he pulled out her beret from his jeans pocket. He had picked it up as Eponine went into the trailer with Mrs. Riley and had kept it safe and sound for when Stephanie was located. He knew deep down she would be. McVeigh didn't want to kill her. He just wanted to make trouble for him.

He showed the beret to Stephanie, and her angry, fear-filled eyes soon filled with sorrow. The tough kid demeanor crumpled, and she started to move forward towards Nick who pulled her out of the car shouting to Catherine. As soon as he untied her, she threw her arms around him crying, "I want my mom! I want her now!"

"You're going to her right now." Nick picked her up and walked towards the opening of the gate. He ran into Catherine as she came around the corner. She was relieved at the sight.

"Oh my god! Is she okay?" Catherine clasped a hand over her mouth in relief.

"Yeah," Nick grunted as Stephanie, despite her wiry frame, was a nice solid size. "Let's get her to the hospital."

They continued to walk out, past the dogs and towards the car where Nick finally set the little girl down, but she clenched his hand and cried, "Don't leave me, Nick!"

"Not a chance!" He smiled at her, and they got inside the car.

xxXXxx

Nick paced the waiting room while Catherine went in with Stephanie to ask some questions. That was the real worry.

"If he fucking touched her..." he told Warrick who sat on the chairs. "If he laid a finger on her, I'm going to kill him, and I don't care if I go to prison for the rest of my life. I don't even care if I get the needle."

Warrick watched his buddy. He could see a vein popping out of his forehead and his knuckles were white.

Just then Eponine came rushing through the doors. She stopped momentarily and looked at Nick who swallowed and said, "She's with my supervisor."

Eponine nodded and moved on to the examination room with the sheriff behind her along with Mrs. Riley and another man whom he presumed to be the judge.

Warrick could see from the very chemistry that those two had something going on…something very tense. "What happened with you two, man?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Nick answered in a don't-fuck-with-me voice. He turned upon hearing the familiar steps of Catherine Willows who was walking out with a smile.

"She's okay?" Nick asked.

"Nothing was done to her in that way…a lot of bullshit fed to her about you and her mother, but she's fine."

Relief washed over Nick. He heard a moan coming from behind him and turned to see the sheriff and an assistant wheeling a battered and bruised McVeigh out of the hospital in a wheelchair. He started to walk towards the curtain, but Warrick held him back. "No, man, you're not going there."

They wheeled by and McVeigh looked up and caught Nick staring at him.

Warrick took a good look at McVeigh, and it became clear how his buddy had been attacked. This man was twice the size of Nick, and with a friend in tow as well he didn't have a chance. Warrick pushed Nick away, walked over, knelt down, and warned, "If you ever, ever come near my friend again...I'll fucking kill you. You got that, McVeigh? With a machete, and I know where I'm gonna take the first slice."

McVeigh smiled.

"Warrick!" Grissom called from where he had been sitting quietly reading a National Geographic. "Enough!!"

The sheriff quickly wheeled McVeigh out of the hospital.

Nick's stomach was doing a Mexican bean dance when he heard his name being called quietly. He turned and saw Eponine standing there. She looked exhausted…drained. He motioned for her to come over by the ATM machine where they could have more privacy. The Mexican beans had now changed into spinning wheels.

"She's fine. Nothing was done to her, Nick," she explained, her voice forthright.

Eponine's expression had changed from hardened to compassionate. "I know why you didn't tell me."

"I'm sorry," was all he could muster.

"I know you are." Eponine blew a breath and shook her head. "She told the sheriff about McVeigh and how he lured her away by telling her that you were an evil man who was going to hurt me, and if she came with him they'd find her daddy and we could be together again.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, I know. So this is my fault."

"No," she said, "I was wrong to blame you. I was fucking freaked, Nick. You can't imagine how frightened I was and my mind was going to a lot of places-dark places." Her eyes filled with tears at the memory.

"I know." Nick assured her stroking her arm, "It's okay. Forget about it. She's safe, and that's all that matters." He was starting to think that maybe things would be okay between them. Hopefully. But the tension in her arm as he touched her said otherwise.

A piano crashed onto that hope as Eponine bit her lip and said, "I'm…I'm moving out of Nevada, Nick. There are too many memories here for us. We're going to pack up in a few days and go back to my parents' house in Maine. I need some time to process everything. It's not you, okay?"

Oh, he'd heard that line before. It was his line, and now his line was being used on him, and man…did it hurt like hell! Nick sucked in his breath, turned for a second and looked back at her eyes, seeing that there was nothing there but a cold, bitter look. For despite her apology, she wasn't sorry. As far as she was concerned, Nick was another guy set out to hurt her like her husband had, and in no way, shape or matter was he going to convince her otherwise. Her mind was made up.

"Yeah, I understand." He looked up and over her shoulder trying to remain stoic at this moment of betrayal. Yes, he understood why she was angry at him, but God was there anything called forgiveness in her? Obviously not. Then again, he did lie to her, and therefore the damage done to their relationship was irreversible.

"I'm glad you do," she said and leaned over to kiss him softly on the cheek. "Good luck, Nick. I'll never forget you."

He turned away and walked off saying, "Whatever." Her bitterness was contagious, and right now Nick felt more bitter than a thousand lemons squeezed into a juicer. He walked over to where his friends stood watching the drama, eyes filled with a mixture of pity and sadness. He put on a brave face and simply dogged on.

Catherine stepped forward. "Let's go back to your trailer, gather your things, and get the hell out of here tonight."

"Sounds like a plan." Nick nodded determinedly, using fake bravado to cover the fact that his heart had been smashed to bits. He had to fake it till he could make it back to a safe place where he could be alone and let his emotions go.

xxXXxx

It was nearly dawn by the time they got to the trailer. Warrick, Grissom, and Greg had already started back to city, while Catherine stayed behind to help Nick pack up his few belongings. Once they got back to his place, he'd be paid a visit by Maddie Klein. She wanted to deal with this immediately.

McVeigh was being transported back via ambulance with a uniform in attendance. He had already been charged by the local police with Stephanie's kidnapping. Once back at High Desert, Klein would be visiting him to add on First Degree Murder for Conrad Noir. Grissom told Catherine not to say anything to Nick, but Klein was eager to press sexual assault charges against McVeigh. She wanted to send a message to all prisoners that attacks on law enforcement personnel will come with serious consequences. Her plans for Nick had not been given to him, making Catherine nervous.

He hadn't brought much to the park, so packing was easy. He left next month's rent on the table for whoever came in. Lee had been released hours ago. Not a word was said to Nick as he left the jail cell other than he was taking over for his sister.

Catherine was standing by the table staring at the Wildcat Bolton. Nick came out of the bathroom and saw her. He wore a look she'd seen on Lindsay when she had caught her with a fake ID. Caught…red-handed

"You wanna explain this, Nick?" She held up the rifle in both hands, scrutinizing his reaction.

"I've got nothing to say."

Placing the rifle carefully back on the table, Catherine ran a hand through her hair and told him to pack it and pretend they'd never seen it.

"He tried to attack me the other day," Nick told her.

"Well, you shouldn't have been here," she said.

"I know." He was taking his lumps in stride.

"What stopped you from carrying out your plan?" she asked as she folded some t-shirts and placed them in a suitcase.

"She did," he said in reference to Eponine.

Catherine sighed. "You're very lucky."

"Yeah, I am," Nick said.

"McVeigh wouldn't have been worth going to jail for."

"D.A.'s still gonna charge me with something though."

"Not the assault charge, Nick. You might be looking at stalking and intent to murder, but Grissom contacted Klein and she's gonna have a talk with you about that when we get home."

"I wonder if I can cop an insanity plea," he grumbled.

"Nick, the point is, your career could be over if you're charged with anything," the blonde criminalist pointed out.

"I don't care," he mumbled as he slung the rifle over his shoulder.

Catherine closed the suitcase and looked at him pleadingly, wondering if that curt response was nothing more than a broken heart and a broken soul doing the talking. "It's all have you left."

"I still don't care," he said as he looked straight at her. She saw something in those big brown eyes that she'd never thought she'd see: defeat.

xxXXxx

They stopped at a drive thru and picked up some breakfast, then drove back to Vegas.

Nick dozed most of the way, waking up every so often with a start and looking around panic-stricken, wondering where he was. It was anxiety brought on by lack of structure and routine in addition to recent trauma. He awoke feeling as if something was squeezing his chest. His head felt like it was going to detonate and splatter all over the vehicle.

"It's just me, Nick. We're almost home," Catherine assured him, conjuring up a plan to get him to see his doctor, hoping to get him prescribed something for this anxiety. If it was not treated, it could become pathological. It was a wonder, given all he'd been through over the past eight years, that Nick had not developed a mental health disorder. He had certainly earned it.

"Do you mind if we got George?" Nick asked as he grounded himself in the here and now.

"Well, let me call Mandy and see if she's home. I'm not sure of her schedule now as the other guy working with her quit, so she might be pulling a double." Catherine dialed the number and Mandy picked up, sounding groggy. The CSI told her of their plans, and she was fine with them picking up George as long as Nick didn't come up. Catherine smiled and assured her she would do the task.

"Okay, so we'll stop by."

Nick nodded. "Thanks, Cat."

"You know, I found out what happened with you two that night, and well…I told Mandy it wasn't her and that it wasn't your fault either."

Nick threw an embarrassed glance her way and was quiet for a second. "You're a great friend. If someone had to investigate this...attack on me, Catherine…I'm glad it was you."

She leaned over and patted his hand, shaking her head somberly. "I hope you press charges, Nick. I really do."

Silence and then, "I want to, but I'm really, really…afraid…of people finding out."

Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. The desire to do so was there. That was a great start. "Let's see what Klein says," she said and prayed that the woman would at least be compassionate and not bring up Nick's past. Whatever the playboy and player Texan had done in the past did not justify what happened to him at the prison.

After picking up the kitty, they went back to his place. Warrick had taken Nick's Tahoe and was going to drop it off and then finish his journey with Grissom and Greg in the Denali. But the Tahoe wasn't the only vehicle in the driveway. Low and behold, there was Maddie Klein, sitting on Nick's stoop talking to the crazy cat lady.

"Oh fuck!" Nick groaned. "Two women I don't need to speak to."

"Well, hopefully Mrs. Matthews kept her entertained." Catherine sighed, feeling frustrated with this woman who had no sense of sensitivity about her even if it hit her between the eyes. They just had just gotten back, and Nick needed time to sleep, for fuck's sake!

D.A. Klein stood there, all five foot something of her, holding a black briefcase in one hand and her cell phone in the other, walking and yelling, "I don't care about that, Frank! Tell that damn scuzzbag laywer no fucking deal! Get it?!" She flipped off her phone and slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, waiting for Nick and Catherine to come over. Grabbing the cat carrier, Nick walked over to where she stood.

"Welcome back, Nick." Maddie smiled. Was that warmth in her eyes? Or was Nick just feeling overtired and unsure of what was what and who was who? Just fire me, for God's sake, and get it over with.

"Gees," Mrs. Matthews called to Nick, "you look like something your cat dragged in! He looks like the kind of cat who would store dead bodies if he could get away with it."

Klien snorted and said to Nick and Catherine, "I like her. She's entertaining and very wise. You should try talking to her sometime, Nick."

"Let's go into the house," the nervous Texan told them.

As he walked away he heard Mrs. Matthews call out to him, "Where you been hiding? In the desert? You gone gypsy on us, Nick?"

Ignoring the crazy bat, Nick and Catherine led Klein into his house. Nick let the ladies through first and then closed the door behind them. Klein scanned the living arrangements and smirked, "Nice pad. The T carpet is a bit tacky, and it looks like you haven't dusted lately."

"I haven't been home," Nick remarked testily, letting George out of his carrier. The kitty immediately jumped into his waiting arms and snuggled down. Then he looked at Klein, recoiled, and hissed...his blue eyes wide, his teeth bared.

"Down, George!!" Nick comforted the kitty while secretly proud of his boy.

"Oh my, an attack cat," Klein smirked, unfazed by the hostile kitty. "Don't bother hissing at me, furbag. I've dealt with scarier creatures than you."

Scowling, Nick quickly took George (who leaned over his shoulder and hissed back at Klein as if to say, 'screw you') into his room and closed the door, wincing at the crash that followed and the sound of glass flying everywhere It sounded like his framed autographed photo of Roger Staubach had been knocked off his dresser.

"Sit down, Nick." Klein's face had grown serious.

Nick sat down on his leather couch. He was exhausted, and he still hadn't showered. Catherine sat down beside him and patted his leg reassuringly.

"Well, I've read Grissom's report. You're a hero and a villain, Mr. Stokes, so my decision is whether or not to charge you with stalking and attempted murder. I know the judge in that county isn't going to charge you with assault, but there are questions pending, like why you were there in the first place, although I do know why."

Nick felt Catherine clasp his hand.

"I've decided that I'm not going to pursue anything, Nick, on a couple of conditions: A. that you seek psychological counseling immediately and B. that you proceed to charge McVeigh with sexual assault, sexual interference, assault, forced confinement, and assault on an officer of the law. This guy has more charges pending than a third world dictator."

Nick bit his lip and said, "Those are pretty steep conditions."

"Nick, you have to do this," Klein said. "We can do it without anyone knowing, and those that do will get canned immediately if they say anything."

The Texan's eyes went dark and misty, and Klein leaned forward. "Just agree to press charges, and when you're ready we'll videotape your testimony and dub it so nobody ever has to know who you are except the judge."

Nick looked around, trying to breathe. He was panicking. His chest closed in at the thought of his secret being made public and the thought of having to tell the story and feel like he was being attacked again. He leaned over into his lap, covering his face with his hands as if he was going to puke his guts out. He couldn't do it.

"Nick, look at me. No! Stop that right now! Look at me!" Catherine ordered in a firm voice, and when he finally did she looked straight into his eyes and said "I'm staying with you in that room while you testify, okay? You're not going to go through this alone. Not anymore."

His hands shook violently. Maddie sat down on the coffee table and grabbed them. With a warm and reassuring smile she said gently, "I swear on my mother's grave, Nick, I will protect your identity. So help me God, anyone…anyone who repeats what happened to you to anyone will have to deal with me, and I'm not pretty when I'm mad. Just ask Grissom."

Nick smiled through his fear. His knuckles were still up to his face, and he looked at Catherine and then at Klein and nodded. "Let do it."

Both women smiled in relief and then Nick added, "If you dub my voice, can I pick which chipmunk I could be? I liked Alvin, he was the man!"

The trio broke into laugher as Catherine leaned over and hugged him, "I'm proud of you, Nick!"

"Thanks Catherine." He said and smiled at Maddie and said, "Thanks Maddie."

"Hey, I'm not such a bitch. I can nice, when I want to be." The DA grinned, "I even like your cat. A bit of a nutcase, but pet behaviour does reflect their owners' behaviour."

"I don't lick my balls." Nick told her feigning confusion and added, "I'm not that flexible."

"Umm…I don't think I want to picture that." Maddie said.

"Neither do I." Catherine laughed aghast at the thought.

Maddie's face turned serious again, "So I'll give you two weeks, Nick. I know you've got surgery and need some rest, but two weeks from today. I'll have everything arranged."

"I'll be there." Nick told her firmly.

A/N: I told you I'd let up on the guy. But there's still more to come. I should warn you, that the chapter of Nick's attack in his POV will be not be pretty. In the meantime, some nice stuff for our boy.