Nick leaned over the sink and examined his face in the mirror. He turned his head to the side and felt the smooth skin on his cheek where he had just finished shaving. He straightened up and leaned in closer, looking at his eyes. Not too bad, he thought, but a second splash of cold water couldn't hurt, so that's what he did. He looked again, water droplets dripping down his face, his eyes red...tired. But that was to be expected after his second night in a row of not sleeping through the night. Or was it the third? Didn't really matter, he supposed. He grabbed a towel off of the rack behind him and blotted his face dry, then threw the towel into the hamper in the corner and left the room.

In his bedroom, he looked at the set of clothes laid out neatly on the bed and sighed. He had been wearing a shirt and tie to court every day so far, but today he was adding a jacket...a full suit right down to the shiny black shoes. He put the clothes on and put the tie around his neck but opted to leave it undone for now. He also threw the jacket over his shoulder as he left instead of putting it on. He was already feeling warm. No sense getting stuffed into the suit and being all hot and uncomfortable before he had to be. He wiped the sweat from his brow and just hoped he wouldn't pass out later on the stand.

It was 8:15 in the morning when Nick arrived at the courthouse. District Attorney Scott Cavanaugh had asked him to come in early to be prepped for his testimony. They met in the prosecution's conference room. Nick sat leaned back in a chair, his hand on a water bottle that he kept picking up a little and then letting drop back onto the table. "I've done this before, you know. A couple of hundred times."

"Yes..." Cavanaugh sat across from him, nodding. "But not for your own case. This is different, Nick. It's personal. It's going to get emotional."

"I'm not going to get emotional," he protested. Hearing an almost whine to his voice, he cringed, proving the D.A.'s point. "I'll be all right," he stated, trying to sound more certain.

"Look...emotional is okay. It's good. It gets to the jury...makes them empathize with you. So don't worry about it. Don't try to change who you really are up there. You're a likable guy, Nick. You just get up there and be yourself...and everything will work out."

"Yeah...we'll see." Nick was not impressed with the pep talk.

Cavanaugh decided to get down to business then. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'll be questioning you about the incident at Crane's apartment first, since you didn't do a lot of the investigation into Jane's murder. Now listen...since she tore Brown apart up there over not actually seeing Crane attack you or seeing him in the building at all, you're going to have to convince the jury that it was him."

"And how am I going to do that?"

"You're going to tell what happened, but later...we're going to make sure the jury knows it was personal. We're going to present evidence that he was stalking you."

At that Nick suddenly sat up straight in the chair. "What? I thought we weren't going after him on the stalking. You said the murders carried more weight and we had more evidence about that."

"Apparently I was wrong," the D.A. answered grimly. "I'll be blunt, Nick. It's not going well. You can see that. Any evidence we had into Jane's murder they've thrown an enormous amount of doubt onto. Now Pearson...that's different. They're going to get an eyewitness firsthand account of that...up close and personal. That's going to carry a lot of weight, especially coming from you. But even more so if they see why he was there...what his state of mind was."

"So you're adding the stalking charges?"

"No." He shook his head. "Like I said before, we want to be clean and clear and precise on the murders. We don't want the jury to have to weigh the stalking charges too. But...we can introduce the evidence and show why he attacked you...why he was at your house that night...and why he killed Jane and Mr. Pearson."

"Because of me?" Nick asked with a hard edge to his voice. He said it again, but this time it wasn't a question. "Because of me. You think he killed them because of me."

"Nick, c'mon, wait a minute and let's..."

"No, you wait a minute. This guy is crazy. I don't care what your fucking psychological tests say!" He leaned over the table, looking the D.A. in the eye as his voice got louder. "This guy is crazy! He's a freakin' lunatic and nothing he did makes sense! He chose people...stalked people...killed people...it didn't have anything to do with me!" Grissom said so..."I don't think it was about you, Nick."

"Nick, I'm not blaming you. That's not where I'm going with this. But the jury needs a motive besides him just being crazy." He saw Nick considering this, calming down some, and he continued, this time more gently. "He posed her for you…like a photo from your past. He told you he did it as a gift for you. He told you she would have gotten between the two of you. And Pearson..."

"That's enough," Nick interrupted quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. "That's enough."

"He's gonna walk." When Nick looked up at him, he said, "If we don't do this now...and do it right...he's gonna walk. We have to make them understand what happened. We have to make sure they believe you. I need you to get up there and be firm about what happened...tell it like a police official. But I need you to be human too. You were a victim...more than once. You were hurt and you were afraid and they have to feel that."

Nick shook his head. "I have to be both? All...everything? At once? How the hell am I gonna..."

"Because that's who you are, Nick. You're all of those things. Just get up there and be you."

"Nick? Nick! Hey, wait up, man!"

He turned around to find Warrick running to catch up to him as he was entering the courtroom. "What are you doing here? Didn't you just get off work?"

"Yeah." Warrick stopped to catch his breath. "Thought I was gonna be late."

"You're sitting in today?"

"Of course," he answered with a big grin. "Moral support, man."

Nick laughed, feeling a bit of the weight on his shoulders lift. "Sure you can stay awake?" he asked as they entered the room.

"Well, if not, I'm sure she'll be happy to elbow me." Warrick nodded toward the front of the room where Catherine sat looking back over her shoulder and smiling at them.

"You guys…" Nick's throat was tight with emotion. "You don't have to do that. She worked overnight too. I'll be okay."

"Hey…we want to be here," Warrick said as they slid into the row of seats next to Catherine. "Right?"

"Right!" she answered firmly. "We're off tonight. We can sleep later. Now, c'mere." She reached out to straighten Nick's tie. "Geeze…why are men the only ones who wear ties and women the only ones who know how to tie them?" She rolled her eyes.

As she finished and smoothed the tie down, he put his hand over hers and squeezed it. "Thanks, Cath," he whispered.

"Give 'em hell." She winked at him and they sat down, waiting for court to begin.

When Nigel Crane was brought into the room, Nick purposely avoided looking at him. He did not make it obvious, but he stared straight ahead. Still, out of the corner of his eye he could tell that the man was watching him as he sat down. He could see it…feel it. But he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing him look back or react. In a few moments Nick would be facing him from the other way, trying to avoid looking at him. He heard his name being called out, and he stood up and proceeded to the front of the room.

He sat up straight in the witness box after being sworn in, gave his name and occupation, and waited for the D.A. to begin questioning him.

"Mr. Stokes, I'm going to begin by questioning you about the events that occurred when you and CSI Brown went to the home of Mr. Crane to question him about Jane Galloway's murder. Now we know from Mr. Brown's testimony that the door was ajar, you knocked, the door opened, you called out and received no answer...and fearing there was some sort of trouble, you entered the home. But Mr. Brown went back outside to take a phone call. Would you please tell us what happened from that point on?"

"After he left, I continued to walk in slowly...still calling out. I was going to wait for Warrick...CSI Brown...to come back in...or for Crane to answer...but I saw something on the floor and..." He stopped as Defense Attorney Sharon Forte called out an objection. Already?

"Overruled," said Judge Perry. "Nothing from the home has been...or will be...introduced as evidence, but he can testify to what he saw there."

"Thank you, Your Honor," said Cavanaugh. "Mr. Stokes, what did you see that made you go farther into the home?"

"There was something red on the floor...drops...just inside the kitchen on the floor."

"Did that raise concern for you? Cause you to continue farther into the house to investigate?"

"Yes. It looked like it could have been blood...or hair dye," answered Nick.

"Hair dye? Like what was found at Jane Galloway's murder scene?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

Nick continued, "I put on a pair of gloves and went into the kitchen. The drops ended by a lower cabinet. I crouched down by it and opened it." He paused, waiting for the objection that never came. With the judge ruling that they had entered the house illegally, now he almost felt like he was being viewed as a criminal...that he'd done something wrong. He went on, "There was like a bin in there…it rolled out…had some cans, newspapers, a towel…stuff like that in it. I moved the stuff around and saw some gloves in there...stained with what looked like red dye."

"What kind of gloves?"

"They appeared to be Latex."

"Okay." Cavanaugh cast a glance toward the defense table before looking back at Nick. "What happened next?"

"I reached in and picked one up to look at it, and the next thing I knew somebody was standing right next to me. It startled me...I looked up…and right then, before I had a chance to do anything, he grabbed me."

"Who grabbed you?"

Nick nodded toward Crane and answered, "Him. Nigel Crane."

"Did you know at the time that's who he was?"

He shook his head. "I didn't have time to even think. I was still crouched down, and by the time I realized he was there he'd grabbed me by my jacket and knocked me off balance. He pulled me up and kind of pushed…pulled…me out of the kitchen and into the front room, and we were struggling, but...I was still kind of turned around and disoriented. We were basically just plowing through the front room. There wasn't any furniture or anything in there. And…it just happened so fast…all of a sudden I'm busting through the window."

"Out the second story window?"

"Yeah." Nick narrowed his eyes and looked toward Crane, finding him staring directly back at him. He turned back to Cavanaugh. "I just remember falling…and the sound of glass breaking. Then…nothing. I woke up in the hospital."

Cavanaugh asked, "What sort of injuries did you suffer from this attack and fall, Mr. Stokes?"

Nick sighed and ticked them off, one by one. "A concussion, a sprained wrist, cracked ribs, and a bunch of scratches and cuts from the glass…had some stitches in my forehead."

"So that was a pretty serious fall. Did Mr. Crane say anything to you as this attack transpired?"

"No, he didn't."

The D.A. walked over near the jury. "Okay, so…how long were you in the hospital?"

Nick wrinkled his brow, trying to remember. "About…10 hours maybe? We were at the house in the early afternoon, and it was about midnight when they let me go home."

"Did you drive yourself?"

"No. I wasn't supposed to. Wasn't supposed to go back to work for a week…take it easy…that kind of thing. Warrick and Sara took me home."

"Warrick…CSI Brown, who testified earlier, correct? And CSI Sara Sidle?" When Nick confirmed this, Cavanaugh asked Nick to tell what happened once he was back at home.

"I was just taking it easy…sitting in the living room. I wasn't feeling too good. I'd had some of the pain medication they gave me, so I was getting a little sleepy…thought about heading to bed, but then someone knocked on the door."

"What time was this?"

"About one in the morning. I asked who it was, and it was Mr. Pearson."

"Morris Pearson? The psychic?" asked Cavanaugh.

"Yeah, but I didn't know him…never met him before. He said he was working on Jane Galloway's case with my supervisor, Gil Grissom. He was saying something about having more visions. I opened the door a little, and he just kind of pushed his way in even though I was telling him to leave. I didn't know what he was talking about."

"What did he say?"

Nick cleared his throat. "He said, uh, he'd seen my address…that there was going to be some kind of trouble there. He was rambling on about people falling and stuff, and then my phone rang. It was my supervisor. He said that Crane had been in my house. I didn't really understand what he meant, but he said they were sending the police over to watch the house. When I hung up, Mr. Pearson was gone."

"He left the house?"

"No." Nick shook his head. "He just…I didn't see him anywhere. He must have walked off while I was on the phone. I got my gun…out of the drawer. I mean…I didn't know him, you know? I didn't know if he was crazy or what. I was walking through the house…looking in the rooms for him…and then I heard something. Overhead. In the attic…like…a dragging kind of sound. It was moving toward the living room. I…followed it along. I figured it was Pearson up there…doing something. I wasn't sure." He stopped speaking and looked down. He cleared his throat again and looked up. "And then…" He took a deep breath.

"And then what, Mr. Stokes?" The D.A. stepped closer. "Please tell the jury what happened next."

"The ceiling caved in…crashing…stuff falling…dust, boards, plaster…and Mr. Pearson fell out too. He was lying there on the floor in the middle of it all. He looked like he was dead. I moved to check on him, and…suddenly someone jumped down from the hole in the ceiling. I just reacted…tried to grab my gun…I had dropped it…but…he got it first."

"Who got it? Who had the gun?"

"It was him." Nick pointed to the defense table. "Nigel Crane."

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!