A/N: This is for everybetty who kicked my butt in gear this morning! I told you this fic was still up there in my noggin', didn't I, girl? This chapter basically wrote itself, so I'm able to post it within hours of promising you that the next section was coming. And I have the beginnings of Part 15 rumbling around in my head. Ahhh, health. It's a wonderful thing.
I also have to thank Nicky69 for keeping me on track. Thanks so much for your encouragement!
For those of you out there still wondering about this story…yes, I will finish it. It actually only has a couple of chapters left, and they're pretty much outlined at this point. I have to look over an old, beloved Stargate fic or else I suspect that my other friend, Sokerchick, will completely give up on me, but I hope to post Chapter 15 sometime next week (unless I'm plagued with yet another illness).
And those of you wondering about my current SGA fic…you have no worries. Weight of an Oath hasn't given me too much trouble, so I'll still be able to update it regularly…unless, as I mentioned earlier, I'm plagued with yet another illness).
Enjoy!
Emrys
From Part 13 (since it's been so long):
"Maze," Nick muttered softly. "Dead ends, ev'rywhere."
Gil leaned in closer to Nick as the man slowly relaxed and gave up the struggle to keep his eyes open.
"We'll get you out, Nicky," Gil whispered into the lost man's ear. "We know the way out."
The words echoed in Nick's head as he succumbed to the comforting effects of the sedative and drifted away.
Daddy's Little Girl – Part 14Grissom stayed by Nick's side throughout the night. He knew that sitting in the hard plastic chair that had been placed near the hospital bed for visitors would wreak havoc on his back, but he wanted to think. Needed to think here, while Nick was asleep and where Grissom knew him to be safe.
At some point during the long night, he must have drifted off because he woke to find his neck abominably stiff and a rough blanket covering his legs. Passing a hand across his bleary eyes, he checked Nick and was pleased to see him calm and still asleep. Yawning, he stretched awkwardly and then looked around the small room to find Catherine watching him knowingly from a chair positioned slightly behind his.
"You're becoming a soft touch in your old age, Grissom," she whispered softly.
He scowled in response and then raised his eyebrows. "You?" he asked pulling the blanket upward to indicate its presence.
She shrugged. "You were cute all hunched up in that chair, but you looked sort of cold. Figured you could use it."
He huffed. "Now look who's turning into a soft touch," he said, wryly then eyed her chair. "Hey, your chair looks more comfortable than mine. Where'd you get it?"
"I never reveal my sources," Catherine said. Her voice had only a subdued playfulness to it, and Grissom suddenly missed her true, yet recently absent, lighthearted nature.
Catherine's eyes drifted to Nick, and the concerned look that had haunted her features since this fiasco had started returned. "He's in trouble," she said. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes," Grissom agreed, turning around in his chair so that he could see her better. "There's something he's not telling me, or, I suspect, anyone else. Something important, and none of us are going to be able to help him if he's not willing to talk about it openly."
Catherine suddenly looked uncertain. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it as she took the time to consider her next words carefully. Her hesitation was not missed by Grissom.
"I know what it is," Catherine finally said after some time had passed. "I've known for a while. He and I talked about it the other day, but maybe you…."
"No," Grissom interrupted her quietly, but with authority. "I don't want you to betray his confidence. Besides it won't help unless he's willing to tell me himself. He's just got to start opening up."
She didn't say anything, just quietly nodded and leaned back in her chair. Grissom turned around to study Nick's pale features again and noted the muscle spasms that were still present. He brushed his hand over his face again and felt his eyes burn with fatigue.
"It's late," he said and closed his eyes.
888
The next time he woke up, it was to the sound of a quiet, but imploring muttering. Immediately awake, he stood up, and resisted the temptation to touch Nick in order to wake him from what was obviously becoming a bad nightmare. Instead, he stooped near to Nick's ear and murmured soothing words that did little good.
As the sheets became twisted and restraining around Nick's body, his low begging escalated and so did the words that poured from Grissom's mouth. Grissom was about to call the nurse, when Nick suddenly jolted awake and lay very still. It appeared to Gil that the man was trying to orient himself, to remember where exactly he was, and for a moment, the only sounds in the room were the hurried beat of the heart monitor and Nick's harsh breathing.
"Nick?" Grissom quietly asked once the sounds from the heart monitor had slowed appreciably. He backed away slowly making sure to keep within Nick's line of sight but also making an effort not to startle the already disturbed man.
"Gr…Griss?" The stuttered word was spoken with a hint of confusion, but Grissom was glad Nick had broken far enough away from his nightmare to be able to recognize his surroundings. Gil sighed with heavy relief and sat back down in the backbreaking chair.
"Yeah, it's me, Nick," Grissom said quietly. He paused, knowing that his next question was a stupid, yet necessary one. "Are you all right?"
Nick still would not meet Gil's eyes, and he shook his head negatively. Tears slid down the man's face, and he wiped them angrily away before turning his back on Grissom. Not knowing what to say, Grissom tensely remained seated in the chair. He noted that Catherine had left some time during the night, and that the first muted rays of the morning sun were being cast through the hospital window.
"How can you say that you know the way out, when I don't even know where my head is anymore?" Nick suddenly whispered. His breath hitched painfully, and Grissom's heart ached with the sound. Yet he steeled his features so that none of his inner conflict would be obvious to Nick if he suddenly chose to look his way.
"I know two things," Gil said after a moment's pause to carefully consider his thoughts. He stopped talking again so that his lingering silence would emphasize the importance of his next words. He sensed that Nick was listening despite having turned his back and knew that what he said next could make all of the difference in the man's sorrow-filled world.
"The first," Gil said, "is that you aren't dead."
The effect was immediate and not altogether unexpected. Nick gasped and weakly moved beneath the blankets so that he was able to pierce Grissom with eyes filled with astonishment. It was the first time since they had rescued him that Nick had maintained any level of eye contact with Grissom, and he noted the importance of a milestone painfully met.
Grissom tentatively reached out a hand. When Nick fumbled to clasp the offering of contact, Gil inwardly cheered. Even if he didn't make any further forward progress, at least Nick hadn't lost the ability to accept this small comfort.
"The second, is something Winston Churchill once said," Grissom continued, smiling in affected amusement.
He saw some of the tension leave Nick's face at Gil's characteristic tendency to quote others, and Grissom realized that routine and familiarity would become even more of a necessity for the man than they had been after Nick's first encounter with Kelly Gordon.
"Churchill once said," Gil repeated, "that if you're going through hell, keep going."
Nick pondered the words for a moment, blinking heavily against the still present pull of the sedative that the nurse had administrated earlier. He shifted his legs so that the blankets untwined slightly and then sighed heavily.
"I don't know if I can," Nick said. Grissom saw that he was very close to sleep again.
"You have no choice about it," Grissom instantly and steadfastly replied.
Nick's eyes were closed now, but he managed a response anyway. "Didn't you tell me once that there's always a choice?" he murmured.
"I also told you once that there's an exception to everything," Grissom reminded, placating. "Now go to sleep."
Nick slept.