Warrick had almost forgotten about Dave until the other man took a few steps forward. He still had his gun raised and had produced a rope from somewhere. He tossed it to Nick, who reluctantly caught it. He stared blankly at Dave, waiting for the other man to just get it over with and pull the trigger. Nick really wanted this whole situation to just end, one way or another. As long as Warrick got out, he didn't really care. His mind was set on doing something right and protecting his best friend.
"Tie him up." Dave said as he motioned to Warrick, then the metal chair in front of the bed.
Before Nick could say something sarcastic, Warrick went over and sat down. He folded his arms behind him and begged Nick with his eyes to just come over and do it without a word. Nick complied and even managed to keep his mouth shut. He wrapped the long rope over Warrick's wrists, between the bars of the chair and through the bedpost. He pulled it tight and knotted it. He paused for a second, not standing up. Before he did, he slipped an end into Warrick's right hand, leaving enough slack for him to be able to free himself when the time was right.
Nick straightened up and looked at Dave. "Satisfied?" He asked.
Dave smirked but didn't say anything. He walked over and stood behind Nick. Warrick saw Nick tense and stand rigidly still, all except for his still shaking hands. Warrick could see how hard he was trying to remain calm, but it was getting increasingly harder by the second. However, Nick ended up being glad that he couldn't see Dave. He didn't see the other man raise the gun and bring it down onto the back of his neck at the same time he kicked out Nick's knees. Nick fell forward so that he was now kneeling in front of Warrick. Since Warrick was sitting and was slightly lower than the Nick, the usually taller man was now eye to eye with the Texan.
"I think you know what I want you to do." Dave said simply.
Nick felt his heart drop for what had to have been the tenth time that night. "No." He immediatly said. "Fuck you, I'm not doing that."
Warrick didn't understand what Nick seemed to. "Do what?" He asked out of curiosity.
"I've changed my mind." Dave explained. "I want Nick to give you special treatment. I think that'd be far worse for him, and all I want to do is cause him as much pain as possible."
Nick felt the gun dig deeper into the base of his neck. He looked at Warrick, their eyes unable to look away. Nick saw the fear in Warrick's eyes just at the mere thought of what Dave was talking about. Nick closed his eyes slowly and shook his head. He wouldn't have wished something that terrible on anyone, especially his best friend. The pain and panic that Nick had suffered was so unbearable he hated to even have to think about it. So he wasn't about to do it to Warrick.
"No." Nick said.
Dave hit Nick in the back of the head with the handle of the gun. "I don't think you understand." He said. "Either you do it to him, or I'll do it to you."
Warrick wished he could say something, but he didn't know what to say. He already knew what Nick was going to do. He had known it deep down all along. He just wished he could come up with an alternative, but he couldn't. All he could do was watch as Nick opened his eyes and glanced at him quickly before standing up and facing Dave. His hands were shaking harder and he looked paler than Warrick had ever seen him before. But his voice was steady as ever.
"Nothing you could ever do to me would make me hurt him. I know you're too fucked up to understand that, but whether or not you can, he's my best friend. He may hate me, but I can't blame him for it. So fuck you. I'm not afraid of you anymore."
Dave looked stunned for a second, but not too long. "You're not, huh? Then why are your hands shaking just like they did when you were fifteen? And just like every other time? You're scared to death of me. I have total power over you."
Nick shook his head. "No, you don't. I'll admit you used to. But not right now. I may be afraid of the dark, and glow sticks, and not being able to breathe. But not you."
Dave didn't seem to like that response too much. He showed it by punching Nick in the chest so hard that Warrick could hear part of Nick's sternum snap. Dave hit Nick in his pressure point where his shoulder meets his neck with the gun, causing Nick to fall to the floor. By the time Dave had kicked Nick in the chest, stomach, and ribs enough to have to stop to catch his breath, Nick was five feet from where he had started. He was now mere inches away from the wall, laying in front of the door to the closet. Warrick couldn't stop himself from thinking about all the internal damage Nick must have at the sight of the other man uncontrolable coughing up blood onto the floor.
Dave came back into the picture, and looked madder than ever. He seemed to know exactly what he wanted to do because he wasted no time in opening the closet door, moving Nick's arm with his foot so that the injured man's wrist was up against the door frame and slamming the door. Dave did it in such a swift motion that Warrick didn't even react to it. Nick didn't either. He couldn't yell out in pain because it hurt too much to even breathe. He flinched and tried to pull his arm back, but Dave was putting all of his weight on his right foot that was on Nick's left forearm. He slammed the door again, pulling it as hard as he could and stared down at Nick, enjoying his pain.
Dave finally let go of the door and stepped off of Nick's arm. He mindlessly tossed the gun behind him. It landed about six feet in front of Warrick, not quite close enough for him to make a move for it. Dave didn't seem to notice Warrick anymore. He pulled a knife from the back pocket of his pants and flipped it open to reveal the gleaming silver blade. Dave wordlessly dropped to his knees, stradling Nick's left leg. No matter how much he wanted to, Nick couldn't move at all. Everything hurt too much. He could no longer feel his fingers on his left hand and felt like he had a million knives sticking into his chest. Every breath he took only caused him pain.
"I'm glad I finally got you to shut the fuck up." Dave said.
Nick opened his eyes and shook his head. "After twenty years, you still can't even manage to do that."
Dave lashed out with the knife. The blade slashed through the cotton of Nick's still wet shirt and ripped across his skin. The large hole that stretched diagnolly across Nick's chest revealed the immeansely bruised skin. Blood flowed from the wound, adding to the awful sight. Warrick was too afraid to move to help Nick. Dave was holding the knife against Nick's neck, pressing as hard as he could. He leaned forward so his face was hovering mere inches above Nick's.
Before the older man could say or do anything, Nick spit the blood that had built up in his mouth at Dave, hitting him right in the face. Dave flinched at the unexpected action. His hand involuntarily moved so the blade of the knife sliced a vertical cut in the side of Nick's neck, barely missing his jugular. Dave wiped the blood of his face with the back of his hand and didn't seemed phased at the sight of Nick's newest injury. He just proceeded with his original plan.
Dave held the knife just below Nick's naval as he used his other hand to undo Nick's belt. He began to unbutt Nick's jeans, but he didn't get too far however. Nick managed to jerk his left knee upward, forcefully hitting Dave in the groin. Dave fell to the side, away from Nick. He was only down for a second or two before he stood and glared angrily down at Nick.
"You should have thought that one through." Dave said.
He turned his attention away from Nick and moved towards Warrick. Dave gripped the knife tightly in his hand, ready to use it. Warrick completely forgot that he could pull on the rope and free himself, even though that would take a couple seconds. He didn't have a couple seconds. It seemed to be happening in slow motion, but now Dave was only four feet away from him. Warrick pulled on the rope as hard as he could and felt the tightness loosen, but it wasn't enough. He pulled again, but then everything stopped. His heartbeat, Dave advancing towards him, and Dave's plan.
Dave had thrusted out with the knife even before he had been close to Warrick because he was so angry. He was so infuriated he hadn't noticed Nick pull himself up off the floor and move in between himself and Warrick. Instead of Warrick, the knife had been buried into Nick, just to the left of his rib cage. Everyone in the room was surprised. All except Nick.
Dave stood there, still holding on to the knife, for what seemed like forever. Then he got over his shock and spun Nick around, using the knife in the other man's chest to control him. The younger man couldn't hold himself up anymore. He fell to his knees once again. Dave went down with him, keeping a firm grasp on the knife. But Nick didn't pay any attention to Dave. He was looking over Dave's shoulder at Warrick, who still couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Nick couldn't breathe anymore. He tried even though he knew it would hurt, but his efforts didn't pay off. No air went into his lungs and he could slowly feel the life draining out of him as the blood poured from around the knife. All he could do was look at Warrick, telling him with his eyes that everything was going to be okay.
"You're going into shock." Dave said to Nick. "In about two minutes you won't be able to feel anything, and in five you'll be dead. You should have just let me light you on fire earlier. That would have been nothing compared to this."
Dave leaned forward and was about to kiss Nick when he heard a gunshot. He was confused for a moment before he looked down and saw the blood starting to stain his shirt. He didn't feel the pain until he saw the blood. He stood up, stunned, drawing the knife out of Nick. The Texan gasped, all the oxygen he had left leaving his lungs. Dave stumbled back towards the far wall. He looked up, his eyes locking with Nick's.
Nick raised the gun and fired again. This time the bullet hit Dave square in the chest. He fell back against the wall and slowly slid down it. Nick pulled the trigger again and again until he was out of bullets. He finally dropped the gun to the floor where he had picked it up earlier after stumbling to the floor. He turned away from Dave and looked at Warrick, who still couldn't move. Nick forced a weak smile before his eyes closed and he fell to his left, landing on the floor.
Warrick quickly snapped out of it. He pulled on the ropes and finally pulled his wrists out. He crossed the floor and was over to Nick in a matter of seconds. He immediatly put pressure on the stab wound in Nick's chest as well as the cut on his neck. He was careful not to accidentally hit Nick's definitely broken wrist. The strips of white fabric on both of Nick's wrists were now completely red, the white overtaken by the blood stains.
"Wake up Nicky. Come on man, stay with me." Warrick pleaded.
Nick slowly opened his eyes. "You gotta get out of here." He choked out. "It's on fire."
Warrick had forgotten about that small detail. But it didn't change his mind about what to do. It only made him hurry up more.
"I'm not leaving without you." Warrick said.
He didn't wait for Nick to try and talk him out of it. He carefully pulled Nick to his feet by his waist. He pulled Nick's right arm across his shoulders and held onto his good wrist. Warrick in turn steadied Nick as best as he could with his left arm around his waist. Nick was able to walk with the support, but in a few minutes he would be unconscious. They had to move fast.
They were out the door to the apartment and almost at the stairs when they heard the sirens approaching. That was when Warrick could feel his heart start beating again. That was when he felt Nick go limp next to him. Warrick had no choice but to slowly lower Nick to the floor and lay him down. He pressed against Nick's worst cuts, trying his hardest to stop the bleeding. He could barely feel Nick's pulse beating. It was weakening with each second that passed.
"Just hang on Nicky. Brass and Grissom are coming. You're gonna be okay man just please hang on."
Nick didn't open his eyes. He didn't move at all. He was completely still as he softly said, "I'm sorry."
Warrick had barely heard it, but it was there. He felt the warm tears fall down his cheeks and did nothing to try and stop them. The lump in his throat made it hard for him to breathe. Nick's hands had stopped shaking, but his warm blood was still flowing against Warrick's hands. Warrick didn't care that he was covered in Nick's blood, or that the building was on fire, or even that he had killed two people. All he cared about was the man dying in front of him.
It seemed like years had passed in between when Nick had spoken and when the door at the bottom of the stairs flew open. The voices and noises the people were making sounded muffled to Warrick. All he could clearly hear was what Nick had just said. Warrick didn't move when Brass ran up the stairs, followed closely by Grissom and the LVPD force. He looked up and was only slightly surprised to see Grissom with a gun in his hand. The supervisior dropped the weapon and grabbed Warrick by the shoulders, pulling him out of the still burning building.
The younger CSI didn't try to stop himself from being pulled to his feet and away from Nick. Brass joined Warrick and Grissom outside as the paramedics flooded into the building. Warrick couldn't see up the stairs as they surrounded Nick and went to work on him. It wasn't long before they saw Nick on a stretcher, carefully being hurried down the stairs to the waiting ambulance. Warrick couldn't move a muscle when Nick was wheeled by him. His breath caught in his throat and the tears were still falling from his eyes.
As soon as Nick was out of sight, Warrick turned to Brass. He didn't have to say anything. The police captain nodded and lead the two CSIs to his cruiser. They silently got in, Warrick in the back, and caught up with the ambulance. Warrick closed his eyes, but no matter what he did he couldn't get the image of Nick on the floor dying out of his head.