CHAPTER 21
IRREVERSIBLE
Thanks again to all of you for your reviews.
Thanks Smokey for your feedback and edits.
Nick packed his belongings as his parents sat by helping him. He scanned the new Planet Earth DVD Grissom had bought for him, his old one destroyed in McVeigh's rage. Grissom had also sent off a letter to his alma mater, purchasing a brand new degree complete with an expensive brass, school logo frame. As robot-like as Grissom was, Nick had to hand it to the guy. He knew how to give in small ways that meant very much to the recipients.
"Sorry about your girl," Judge Stokes said as he handed his son his black, leather jacket. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, we've got other stuff to talk about before you guys leave," Nick answered, his voice sounding a bit hoarse but much improved. "The hospital chaplain told me we could have the chapel for the afternoon."
His parents looked at one another as his mother asked, "What's wrong, Nick?"
"I just have something I wanna tell you before you leave. It's taken a long time for me to do this, but I'm ready." Nick slid his leather coat over his arm and showed them the way.
xxXXxx
The chapel was a tiny room with a few comfy cream-coloured chairs, a love seat, a deep green carpet, an ottoman, and stained-glass windows depicting streams, forests, animals, and sunsets. A small fountain sat in the corner, and a red leather bible, a black leather Koran, and fresh cut flowers sat in the middle of a coffee table.
Nick's parents sat on the love seat while he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them. He was feeling like a criminalist right now having to break bad news to victims of a crime, such as the woman whose husband had just come home from Iraq only to be stabbed randomly by some drug addict. He fiddled with the ring on his finger.
He chose his words carefully. "I just wanted to let you both know that I had an awesome childhood, and I couldn't have asked for better parents. I mean, you were tough on us, but we always knew you loved us."
His parents looked at each other nervously. Good news always preceded bad news. His father cleared his throat. "What's going on, Pancho?"
Nick clasped his hands, looked down at the carpet and then up again at his parents, pressing his lips together, and then finally found the words. "Do you both remember the night that Dad was being honoured at some banquet, and I couldn't go with you because I was sick with the chicken pox?"
His mother's eyes filled with concern as she replied, "Yes, I remember. We had a heck of a time finding a babysitter."
The Texan's face grew somber as the sea finally gave up its dead in the form of a 27 year old secret and then waited for the reaction of the passersby on the beach. The reaction was of a tragic nature saved for those who find dying dolphins on the beach: bewilderness, sadness, and shock at the cruelty of nature that allows tragedies to happen to creatures of such sweet innocence.
Nick realized at that point how and why he had kept this a secret…had always kept it a secret. While nurture always showed itself in the kind of adult one grows into, it's often nature that predicts one's personality; in this case, his mother, who many said that Nick reminded them of. She was the more sensitive, empathetic, and thoughtful of his parents. Her laugh-lined face seemed to quiver, and tears filled her eyes while his dad sat back, his face statue-like, as they took the news quietly.
Running a hand over her face, Lois Stokes finally broke the silence as she declared raspily, "Well, I guess this answers a lot of questions I had about your behaviour that summer." Nick's ears perked at this as she looked away at one of the stained-glass windows and breathlessly continued on, more to herself than to Nick or his father, "My gut always told me that there was more going on with you than you let on. Looking back now, your behaviour was indicative of a child who'd been...who's been...assaulted." The last word spit out of her as if it had to fight its way out, because to say the word made it fact and not suspicion.
"I always had a bad feeling about her." Judge Stokes' arms were folded and his nostrils flared as he droned, "Why do you think I never had her back? A child doesn't start wetting the bed at the age of nine for no reason."
Eyes wide, Nick asked, "You knew about that?" His face flushed with embarrassment and amusement. He was just a kid!
"The maid found the sheets hidden, but we told her just to let it be. We figured you were too mortified to tell us," his mother said softly and reassuringly.
"And then your behaviour that summer…very unlike you. We weren't sure why. Or we didn't want to know why," his father speculated while taking in the news as if he'd been told he was dying of a disease. "And I gave you the whipping of your life. I regret that now. Notice I never used the belt again on any of you. I was going through a hell of a trial, and when your mother told me about the window, I snapped…took it out on you." He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, stemming his emotions, and then finally huffed out, "I'm sorry, Pancho."
A small part of Nick that had carried the pain for years seemed to unwind itself.
"I remember trying to stop you." His mother looked at his father angrily as if this had been a sore point for them for years on end.
"It was hard for me to sit up on that Judge's stand all day long and watch young men just fall through the cracks," Judge Stokes reflected, "So if I was harder on you kids, it was because I didn't want to any of you wind up that way."
"Still no excuse!" Jill Stokes said angrily.
Stepping in to stop the blame game, Nick held up his hand and said, "I remember after…you took me out and bought me all those comic books, then those matchbox cars, and even then to a drive-in. Just the two of us, Cisco. That was real cool."
Tightened muscles in his dad's face relaxed at the interlude of a fond childhood memory.
"We should have known though," his mother said with a tear falling down her cheek. She quickly dabbed it away with a tissue she pulled from a box on a side table that held a small, peach coloured lamp.
"Back then," Nick said, "nobody talked about that stuff, Mom."
"Plus, with six others vying for our time, we never felt like we had enough. Our careers consumed us, and what was left we had to split seven times over. It was easy to miss you since you were the youngest and always in hiding from your sisters because you were like their doll. But that was no excuse for not doing anything about it." Lois' eyes were spilling with tears.
Clearing his throat, Nick took his mom's hand. "I don't blame you, Mom, Cisco. I remember how glad I was that night that you came home, because even if you didn't know, I felt safer with you guys there."
"No wonder you brought your blanket and pillow into our room that night," she recalled.
"Statute of Limitations doesn't run out on this. We could probably find her," Judge Stokes said determinedly, his nostrils flared. "I could speak to the DA. She moved away not long after the window incident…claims our dog tried to attack her once. She drank a lot, which is why I never wanted her back. I swear that night she was into the whiskey."
"I remember that smell," Nick told them. He noticed them growing pale and decided then and there that he had given them enough information at this point and no further information needed to be provided. They knew the truth and it was enough. "Look, I don't want to pursue any charges. I want to move on."
"You had to live with this pain for 27 years," his father said and then asked, "Don't you want some justice on this, son?"
"I've done okay with the pain," the Texan assured his stricken father.
His mother grabbed some more tissues out of the box and dabbed her wet eyes. "It would ease my guilt."
"You don't have anything to feel guilty about, Mom," Nick insisted.
"You can't expect her to get away with this, Pancho." Judge Stokes sat forward. "We trusted her. You trusted her, and she violated that trust."
"Yeah, she did," Nick agreed, "but time is its own revenge."
The Texan agreed with his dad that she shouldn't get away with it, but Nick no longer had the strength within him to fight another battle. His coping mechanisms were low on reserves. The anger had become pathological, and despite the brave façade he was putting on, he was the clown in this circus of a life, his smile merely plastered on for others to see. The anger, however, was twisting itself into another insidious monster: depression.
Nick didn't like how he felt this morning when the orderly brought his breakfast. One word: malaise. Maybe the ongoing assault of cortisol on his system was taking its toll. He reluctantly told his doctor who gave him a script of Celexa, a Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor.
Great. Meds. He could hear the jokes in the lab right now.
His father brought him out of his reverie. "So you don't want to pursue any criminal charges on this one?"
"No." The Texan shook his slowly. "It would bring up a lot of bad feelings and wounds, and at this point I've got enough of that to deal with from the past year. I just don't want to add to it. I'm sorry I chose this time to tell you both about this. It's just that my attack last year triggered a lot of memories."
"I'm sure it did," his mother said, grabbing and squeezing his hand.
"And I wanted to let you know why I was such a rotten kid that summer."
"Pancho, you were a great kid," his father told him.
"You were the sweetest of the bunch." Lois Stokes smiled. "The kindest one, the one who gave away his last chocolate bar to his sister after your brother stole hers out of the trick or treat bag."
"Yeah, well, you always told me to think of others," Nick chuckled. Looking at the time on his cell phone, he realized that they had a plane to catch.
Before they left, his mother turned to him and hugged him tightly saying, "Thank you for telling me. I always wondered what went on with you that summer and if I had done something to cause it."
"Mom, you shouldn't have thought that way," Nick said sadly.
"Well, you don't have children," she emphasized the fact to a beleaguered Nick who had heard the old 'when are you going to settle down and have a family' charade many times, and then she continued, "When you do, you'll understand the burden of guilt a parent carries when something goes wrong with their child."
"Yeah, I guess I'll find that out…someday. Closest thing I've got is when George sneaks off and steals toys out of the neighbour's backyard and I have to return them," the Texan said as he led them back to his room where he finished packing and checked out of the hospital.
As they walked out of the hospital, Judge Stokes looked at his son. "Pancho, would you ever consider moving home?"
Nick racked his brain for the right answer and then said, "When I'm pretty sure that I can launch a career without the shadow of the great Judge Stokes looming over me, then yeah, I'd consider it."
His parents looked at each other. It wasn't the answer they hoped for, but it was good enough.
xxXXxx
As the cab driver helped him up the steps with his carryon bag and suitcase, Nick saw Mrs. Matthews sitting on her stoop with the three-legged orange tabby and the brown tabby curled up in jumbo-shaped balls.
He paid the cabbie and then set about getting into the house…his empty house. Warrick had given/loaned him some furniture that had belonged to Tina…a bit feminine for Nick's tastes, but it would do until the insurance company coughed up a cheque.
Further investigation had revealed that McVeigh knew his way around alarm systems and had actually tampered with his the day before. The insurance company couldn't refute this evidence as presented by Warrick, and their claim that Nick had forgotten to turn it on was null and void.
After he had unpacked, he made the difficult call to Mandy to ask her to bring George back home. Sitting on a royal green, soft couch with cushions the size of watermelons, he text messaged her asking her to bring the cat back.
Afterward, he went and sat on his stoop to wait for her. He said hello to some of the neighbours who asked how he was doing and said if there was anything he needed to let them know. It was the polite stuff that you're supposed to say to someone who's been ill, but never really meant to go beyond that.
Then he brought Eponine's letter out of his pocket and opened it.
Dear Nick,
If you are reading this, then I assume that you didn't throw it away upon seeing my name on the return address.
First of all, I wanted to let you know that I still think about you everyday and really feel awful about what happened. I hurt you at a time when you least needed it. I let my anger rule my judgment.
And in that, I forgot to tell you how much I appreciate the lengths you went to find Stephanie.
You see, after I had her, I couldn't have any more children. She was all I had after my husband left me for a younger woman. Losing her would have meant the end of me. You saved two lives that day, not just one.
I'll always be grateful to you, Nick. You are a brave man with so much depth and soul. An old soul you are.
I wish you well.
Eponine.
"So you're back again."
Nick cast a glance over at Mrs. Matthews. "Did you miss me?"
"You?! Hell no!" She puffed some smoke.
"My feelings are hurt!" Nick smiled sarcastically.
"Yeah, you're a real tenderhearted bear, Nick…all weepy and stuff," she cackled.
"Someone's gotta do it." Nick rested an elbow on his knee and placed his chin in his hand. "Crying's good for you. It cleanses the soul, or what little of mine that I have." He cast another glance over at Mrs. Matthews, waiting for the sarcastic remark to come about his soul. Hell, he'd given her a segue and she wasn't going to take the bait.
Nope, she simply blew out some smoke and started to dead-head a white hanging basket of red and purple pansies sitting near her and then picked it up, walked over to Nick's steps, and placed there. "I bought this for you. Don't worry. They're small, but hardy." She smiled a crooked one at him. "Kind of like you…wiry, but hardy!"
"Usually it's the guy that gives the lady the flowers," Nick said in surprise, picking up the small hanging basket with a smile.
"It's the new millennium, Nick. We can do what we want." She smiled at him and then headed back to her stoop. "Well, I'm glad you're okay," she said. "Look after yourself, and I'm here if you need me." She walked up the steps and into the house with the fat tabbies in tow.
Nick picked up the flower basket and studied it, then finished dead-heading them, remembering when he was a kid and his mother and he used to hang out in the garden together. His sisters were off playing house, and he refused to play the baby this time because he wasn't a baby anymore. Losing the living doll status in the house was something they weren't ready to deal with, and his older brother didn't want to be bothered with a tagging six year old, so that left Nick with the animals and his mom on her days off. So she taught him about picking dead flowers off of the plants to keep her garden looking glorious.
Another fat tabby walked up the steps and watched him. He was an orange dude with a pointy little head and pointy ears.
"So you must be the daddy or one of the daddies in that bunch," Nick asked the burly looking cat who yawned and simply made himself at home.
"Sorry bud, I can't have another cat here, I got George," Nick told the furball and then reproached himself as he placed the basket on a stoop and left it there, noticing that it was getting ready to rain.
You're turning into Mrs. Matthews, Nick. You're talking to a cat.
I talk to George all the time.
You need a woman!!
His cell phone beeped and he checked it. "At work…will bring George by tonight." Nick sighed as he was looking forward to seeing his little fur buddy.
As he got up to go into his house, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Hello, Nick? It's Veronica from the Vegas Humane Society. I heard you were getting out today. Hope I'm not being too hasty in calling you about Zack, the lab/terrier mix you were inquiring about."
Nick opened the door and went into house. "No, not at all. How's he doing?"
"He's doing well, but the family that fostered him is unable to keep him any longer. I'd hate to bring him back into the shelter as he's doing much better, so bringing him back here would simply backtrack him. Are you up to taking him now?"
"Yeah, I'm off for two weeks, so I can look after him."
Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll bring him by your house tomorrow morning if that's not too early."
"That's alright," Nick answered. "Thanks."
"No, thank you, Nick, and I'll bring his crate. He spends most of his time there, but seems to be easing out of it. He probably won't do much more until he's comfortable with you."
"Yeah, that's fine. He'll be okay."
"Thanks, Nick! Glad to hear you're doing better. You know, a donation was made by a Sheriff McKeen on your behalf while you were sick."
Nick chuckled, "Really?"
"Yes, it was quite generous. And another one was made by a …uh…Eric McVeigh of McVeigh and Harper Industries. That was a very, very generous donation. We plan to use it to buy a new cruelty investigation van."
Nick was silent, trying to control the bile forming in his stomach, and then he mumbled, "Well, I'm glad to hear that, and I hope that van comes of use."
"You know, would you ever leave your job and join us here at the humane society as a cruelty investigator, Nick? Nevada's laws really suck, but as you know we have a high burnout rate with our people."
Nick recovered quickly and answered, "You know, I really like what I do, but how's this for an answer? If there's a case that's really got you guys, I'll offer my consulting services free of charge."
"Oh! That would be awesome!" Veronica said.
Nick flipped his cell off and decided to take a nap on the couch, still reeling from the double donation by one enemy and one guy he never liked: the Under Sheriff…the man whose answer to his kidnapping was to simply tell everyone to get ready for a funeral.
A ringing noise infiltrated his sleep.
"Well look what we got here!"
Pain. His throat ached. McVeigh was on him, throttling him again.
He sat up and realized it was his cell beeping at him. He lifted it up.
George is coming home.
Nick cleared his throat, sat up, and looked at his watch. Three hours had passed. Every so often, he had mucous build up in his throat, but the doctor told him it would pass.
As he unpacked his bags he brought out Eponine's letter and stared at it. There was a number at the bottom. Rolling his tongue around his mouth, he thought about what he would say to her and then took a deep breath and dialed the number.
His heart raced as the number rang and he heard 'hello'. It was her.
"Umm…hi. It's…me."
"Nick?" She sounded delighted.
"Yeah, how are you?" He inhaled deeply.
"I'm good. Are you? I heard on the news about what happened to you."
"Yeah, I'm okay."
"That son of a bitch is dead isn't he?" Eponine sounded nervous and relieved.
"Yeah, he is."
A momentary pause as she asked, "Did he…?" She faltered and concluded, "I shouldn't ask."
"No, that's alright. I'll tell you." Nick went on to explain what happened and heard a heavy sigh followed by a 'Thank God' when he told her how he'd gotten away from McVeigh.
"I know you're glad to be alive, but I'm sure you're almost as glad that...he…didn't…do anything to you."
"Well, there was a little bit of stuff, but nothing…nothing like before," Nick said and joked, "I know for sure I'm a heterosexual since the thought of a man even doing that to me...grossed me out."
"Like a lot of gay people feel when they are intimate with someone of the opposite sex, but this was not about sex, Nick. It's what he told you. It was about bringing you down in the worst way possible. For all we know, McVeigh was probably heterosexual or even bisexual. Either way, it doesn't really matter."
"I don't know what he was," Nick answered nonplused, "and I don't care either way. He's dead and that's all that matters, and I'm sorry his life was so hard but it had nothing to do with me or my family."
"No, not at all. It was revenge," Eponine said.
The sound of her voice, husky and haunting, was hard for him to hear but he continued, "I got your letter. Actually, my girlfriend found it."
"Oh shit. I'm sorry!" she said ruefully. "But you blocked my e-mail address."
"I haven't been actually checking my e-mail, so it's full," he explained and then took a deep breath. "Thanks for sending it, and you don't have to explain anything to me, Eponine. I was responsible for Stephanie's kidnapping, and so I owed it to you to find her."
"No, you didn't owe me anything," she told him gently. "And you have nothing to be sorry for."
"I owe you an explanation, though," Nick said. "You asked me why I was there."
"I always wondered."
"I had planned to go there and kill him," Nick said quietly. "I wanted to feel safe again, and it was the only way I could do it."
Eponine was quiet and then said, "I understand why...why you would feel that way."
"And you...kind of stopped me, in your own way. I guess I just realized that there is a whole world out there that I need to be part of, and killing him would end that."
"So you had great sex and came to this thought? You're a man alright," she chuckled.
"No…no, just you reaching out to me like that kept me in the moment instead of staying in my trailer and planning my revenge like some Sweeney Todd."
"Oh, you had a barber's chair and a meat grinder too? I should ask my brother to check on that trailer before the owners come back. Might be some bodies in there. He hasn't seen Mr. Stewart around for a bit. Of course, he's a schizophrenic and tends to wander off if he thinks the police are out to get him."
"Oh yeah, I remember him," Nick laughed, her humour lightening up the moment which reminded him of why he took to her. "No bodies anywhere, unless my cat buried a few in my backyard."
Eponine chuckled, "Look, I'm sorry I upset your girlfriend. She's a really nice lady; just a bright light of optimism."
"Well, she's intimidated by you," Nick told her.
"She shouldn't be. I've got my own issues too. I put on a great façade for all to see, but underneath I'm as insecure as a lot of people."
"Could have fooled me."
"I guess I did, which shows that you really don't know me."
Nick told her about his strange near death dream and how it ended with him calling her name.
"Well, did you tell her that you also saw Kurt Cobain, Johnny Cash, Jesus, and Buddha?"
"No, I just wished I had called their names and not yours."
Eponine laughed, "Yeah, probably would have been better in the long run, but what are these feelings about?"
"I don't…I just…I can't explain it. I mean..." he fumbled along and then said, "I guess I was in some sort of afterlife and I guess my past was starting to flash before my eyes."
"You were in a drug-induced state. You were probably just confused."
"I guess if I have any feelings about you, it's guilt for lying." Nick chewed his bottom lip because he seriously couldn't figure it out.
"I know you do, and I've told you you've got nothing to feel guilty about. You had no control over McVeigh and his actions. I should have never let Stephanie wander over to her friend's house alone."
"No!" Nick told her. "Kids have a right to explore the world without any fear."
"True, but unfortunately we don't live in those times anymore."
Nick had to admit, it was a far different world now. Hell, he'd wandered off so many times by himself as a kid it's a wonder no pedophile had snatched him. Ironically, when he was attacked it was in the safety of his own home.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"I don't know. I just liked how life was when you were around."
"But when you talked about Mandy, your face lit up. You might have enjoyed being around me, but I knew deep down you had a fondness for this girl. There are different ways to care about people, Nick, different kinds of love. I think you love me for how I helped you, but that doesn't mean you're in love with me. You're just grateful for the kindness I showed you at a dark moment."
"Yeah, you sure did," Nick replied sarcastically.
"Yeah, but there was more than that."
"Of course, but…I really...care about this girl."
"Then try to get her back," Eponine said. "If not, then move on. Life's too short."
"That's for sure," Nick said, noticing a car pulling up. Mandy was here. "Look, I'm going to get going now, but I'm glad you sent me the letter, and you know I'll never forget you, Eponine, but…I need to move on..."
She didn't let him finish. "I know. Me too. We're both reminders of a dark time and that's not good."
Nick breathed a sigh of relief as she had said it before him, then said, "In fact, I don't think I really want to be with anyone right now. I mean who's gonna want a guy like me anyway?"
"Who wouldn't, Nick? You're an awesome guy."
"Yeah, but once someone finds out what happened to me, they'll just treat me like a leper."
"Maybe they won't. I didn't."
"You've studied up on that stuff."
"Mandy didn't."
"She knew me before all that happened. No, I'm damaged goods now."
"You're not. Far from it."
Nick was unsure, but he didn't say anything. He just figured it would be one of many things that he'd work on. As soon as he flipped off the phone he heard the doorbell ring and went over to open it. Gulping, he peeked out and saw Hodges standing there.
"Hodges?"
"Yep, I was sent here to deliver your cat." The lab tech walked in with a shrug.
"Where's…" Nick began.
"Mandy? She had a double to pull."
"Oh." Nick tried to hide his disappointment, but Hodges, unfortunately, didn't miss a thing.
"It wasn't personal. She had a double to pull on a big case. Grissom needed her, but she wanted to make sure your buddy here got home."
George was pawing at the carrier while Nick unhitched the door and scooped up his kitty, petting his head. "Hey bud!! Welcome back."
Hodges was staring at him, creeping him out. "What do you want, Hodges?" he asked, his dark brown eyes staring at hm.
"You know, she's been a mess since early this week when she dumped you," the lab tech said with a knowing smirk.
"She didn't dump me," Nick said, putting George down onto the floor. "We took a break."
"That's not what I heard," Hodges surmised.
Nick looked up at the ceiling asking the man upstairs to please give him strength not to throttle Hodges.
"Well either way, she's a mess," Hodges said. "Thought you might want to know. I personally never understood her little crush on you, but I guess tragic figures like you are appealing to women."
"I think you need to leave now," Nick said, "before I grab you and shove you out the door."
"I'm just saying."
"Hodges!!" Nick glared while throwing the door open and pointing outside. "Go!!"
"She's still in love with you."
"Yeah, well she has a funny way of showing it," Nick snorted.
"You'll forgive her," Hodges said, "because that's who you are."
Nick widened his eyes. Hodges gave him a compliment. Call the press.
"Have a good evening, Nick." Hodges went on his merry way.
Nick closed the door behind the tech as soon as his feet hit the outside and then went and slumped onto the couch.
xxXXxx
Zack was the most god awful, ugliest dog that ever existed.
Not to mention the wimpiest dog and the most freaked out.
The dog stayed put in the kennel in the dining room where Nick had placed him, its brown eyes darting about nervously, jumping and twitching at every little bit of noise.
Nick looked at him pitifully as Greg and Warrick walked over.
The pathetic creature looked like the result of a head on collision between a Jack Russell Terrier and a Labrador Retriever…Terrier body,Lab Head, Lab Tail, yellow with some white on his back sticking up like a tree.
"I'm sorry, Nick, that is the ugliest dog I've ever seen in my life. His mother must have been drunk," Warrick surmised.
"That dog is a four-legged crime scene," Greg nodded.
"Yeah, like your wardrobe!" Nick glared at his friends and their analysis of his dog.
"He needs another dog to learn how to be a dog," Grissom said from far off in a corner where he was taking in Nick's small collection of books and actually reading through one: T.S. Eliot's anthology. How it survived McVeigh's rampage, Nick would never know.
"What do you mean, Gris?" Warrick asked. "Teach him how to be a dog?"
"He's not been socialized with other dogs. How old is he, Nick?"
"Six months?" Nick pondered. "He was a backyard dog."
"Thus not knowing the ins and outs of being a dog?" Grissom scanned through the book.
"Can't help him with that." Nick shrugged. "Although whenever Catherine and Sara came around one of my crime scenes I felt like peeing it on to establish my territory."
Grissom chuckled and then asked, "So what are your plans for training him?"
"I think this little guy is going to require me to hire a dog trainer," Nick sighed. "This is more than I can handle. He won't even look at me."
"He's traumatized." Grissom looked over his glasses. "He's been abused and he'll need time. Do you know if he's dog aggressive?" The dog had its butt out of the cage while the rest of him was in it.
"No," Nick said. "He's fine with other dogs. He's just scared to death of them."
"Maybe he needs another dog to hang out with."
"You're offering to do doggie play dates with me?" Nick broke into an amused smile.
"You watch the 'Dog Whisperer'?" Grissom asked, eyebrow cocked.
"Oh yeah," Nick answered, perplexed.
"Then you know he needs to be around another dog who can teach him how to be a dog."
George walked over and sniffed Zack, then trotted off glaring at Nick. He hopped onto a newly built, four foot scratching post that the Texan had put together the night before. It kept his mind off of Mandy and sex, especially sex, and dark, nasty thoughts.
Maybe he should follow George's lead and ask the vet to neuter him, and when they weren't looking he'd lace the IV with Euphanol and this is the way Nick Stokes ends, not with a bang but a whimper.
Stop it, Nick. You ain't goin' nowhere.
"Maybe you two will finally bond," Warrick said. "About time!"
Grissom eyed the black man with surprise while Nick and Greg exchanged glances.
"I have to talk to Nick alone," Grissom said. "Do you two mind leaving us?"
The CSIs nodded and bid them farewell.
Nick walked over and sat near the dog, talking to it quietly.
"I came here because I was asked to by Maddie Klein."
Nick looked up alarmed. Now what?!
"You know, McVeigh's father is being prosecuted for lining the pockets of O' Flynn. He's pleading guilty to all of the charges, including conspiracy in the case of your attack by McVeigh."
"You know, he called you, Grissom," Nick said. "Why did O'Flynn call you if his pockets were being lined?"
"Because Cowell was going to do it if he didn't. O'Flynn was trying desperately to cover so many secrets that he lost count of the lies he was telling," Grissom explained.
"Well at least someone is going to pay for what happened to me instead of dying, hopefully."
"I hope that his conviction will bring some kind of closure, Nick, for your sake. I also wanted to share McVeigh's autopsy report from Doc Robbins."
Nick looked at him as Grissom continued, "McVeigh was not HIV Positive, Nick. Nor was Charles Smith, which you already knew, but McVeigh was not either. His tests all came back HIV Negative. Therefore, unless you're not telling me something…" Nick shook his head vehemently as Grissom continued, "Doc Robbins feels that your chances of having it are quite small."
The Texan sighed out loud and blinked back tears of relief as he said, "The doctor will probably still want that final test, but that…I'm...relieved." Nick laughed as he felt the final boulder on his shoulder roll away off his back and into the grand canyon of worries and fears.
Then he smiled at Grissom gratefully and said, "Thank you."
Grissom sat down beside Nick. "I'm glad to have finally said the right words to you, Nick, after all these years."
Then they looked at the nervous dog who was finally asleep.
"My dog ain't ugly," Nick said scratching its head.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Grissom said.
"Yeah, well in this beholder's eye, he's a good looking dog who just needs to learn that the world is a scary place, but he can deal with it."
"Animals can sense a lot of emotions in people, including empathy," Grissom told him. "Therefore Zack is in good hands." Then he looked down at the T.S. Eliot anthology and asked, "I didn't know you liked T.S. Eliot."
"I used to. You can have that book," Nick told his boss while staring out a window over the dog crate, reflective.
"Why would you give it away?" Grissom asked as he placed the book onto the bottom shelf.
Nick paused for a moment. "Because I was reading a poem of his before my attack. You know, The Hollow Men,with that stanza 'this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper'. While they were…" Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That one line...kept repeating itself over and over."
"The brain's way of dealing with the trauma of the moment," Grissom told him.
"Yeah," Nick said, "I know."
"There is a theory in the literary world of that particular stanza, in that it was Eliot's interpretation of how people who have been bombed during the war don't recall hearing the blast."
"Kind of a shock and awe," Nick surmised and then asked, "What about the prickly pear stanza?"
"Could be Eliot's view of the post war world and society's worship of false gods."
Nick smiled and said, "Can I tell you about my near death experience?"
Grissom's eyes widened in slight surprise before he answered, "Certainly."
When the Texan was done, Grissom laughed and said, "I have a feeling that you have absorbed more of my quotes than you realize."
"Osmosis!" Nick said noticing that the dog had turned its head around and was staring at the two men, its tail alert.
"I think someone wants to come out and say hello," Grissom observed as the dog turned around and slowly crept out of the kennel and sniffed Nick's hand.
Nick allowed the dog to sniff him out, not moving an inch, knowing the poor animal would simply run back in.
Grissom smiled and said, "That's progress. Small steps. That's how it is when you recover from trauma. Not big steps, but small ones."
xxXXxx
Mandy sat in the lunchroom reading some stupid romance novel.
"Hey there!"
She turned and saw Sara standing there smiling in a brown blazer and jeans, sunglasses perched on her head.
"Hey!" Mandy said. "Thought you were heading back to Africa."
"Oh, I'm still here." Sara walked in and took a seat beside the lab tech.
"Are you coming back to work here?" Mandy asked.
"Oh no. Not yet at least," Sara answered, sitting down at the table and then smiling at Mandy who looked back at her quizzically. Sara cleared her throat. "It's hard, isn't it?"
"What's hard?" Mandy asked testily. She had one rule and one rule these days - do not talk about Nick Stokes with her or be prepared for a rage.
"It's hard when there's someone in the background, some great love they had, a person who by all definition is the epitome of sexual allure, and then there's women like us - ordinary women who live ordinary lives…maybe a little more than ordinary, but still pretty ordinary lives and do ordinary things in our jobs."
"You're talking about Eponine Sargent," Mandy claimed.
"No, I'm talking about my life actually," Sara said. "When the person who you are with has a history with a dominatrix, it's hard to follow that. Very hard."
Mandy looked around and then leaned in. "So Lady Heather was his girlfriend?"
"No, just someone he had a very intimate relationship with," Sara answered. "And then I came along. Try following that, especially when that person goes through a horrific event in their life and your boyfriend is the only one she trusts."
"So how did you deal with it?" Mandy asked.
"I guess I just reminded myself that in the end, he came home to me." Sara nodded and then went on, "You never read the letter, did you?"
"I didn't need to," Mandy said.
"It wasn't what you thought. She thanked Nick for saving her daughter."
Mandy shook her head. "I'm sure that's not all she said."
"Well, they talked, but nothing came of it."
"Why are you helping me?" Mandy asked.
"I don't know. I guess because from what Nick told me, he was happy with you." Sara shrugged. "I mean, this isn't Grey's Anatomy."
"Oh god, I hate show!!" Mandy groaned.
"Yeah really," Sara agreed. "But he was happy. A rarity these days."
"You try dating the hot guy in the lab." Mandy shook her head
"I never thought of him like that. He was just Nick to me. Yeah, he looked good, but he was like my brother."
"'Cause you're all into Grissom." Mandy raised her eyes.
"True, but Nick's an ordinary guy; just with extraordinary bad luck."
Mandy went on, "He's not over Eponine, because he…when he woke up in the hospital...he called me by her name. Do you know what that was like?"
"That sucks!" Sara said. "I don't know how I could deal with that. I can't explain it, unless he's got some guilt over the fact that he lied to her about McVeigh. But why is it so hard to date him? I mean, if he is the hot guy of the lab - I always thought Warrick Brown wore that crown - then you should be on the moon."
"I was, and then I looked around and saw all these craters and thought, holy crap what did I get myself into? I know, it sounds shallow. I'm just scared that something is going to happen to him and I'll lose him and then I'll be alone again," Mandy explained.
"It's a risk we take with everyone, Mandy. Grissom could walk out the door and be shot," Sara told her. "Nick took a risk with you. You could get hit by a car. It's life."
"It's too hard. I'm just scared."
"Grissom once said that he who loves 50 people has 50 woes; he who loves no one has no woes,'" Sara said then added, "Actually it was Buddha, but suffice to say that once you love someone, you take their woe. We can't have people in our lives and not expect to deal with their different experiences. I know it's hard, and we all wanna do the Tammy Wynette thing and stand by our man, but sometimes it gets so hard. However, it is worth it. He's a good man. I've known Nick for years. He's grown so much as a person from that frat boy that I worked with eight years ago."
Mandy was tearing up. "But what about the empty bottle?"
"He's working on it. He's in therapy. That's pretty good for a man. They don't easily go to therapy, so for Nick to do it takes a lot of guts. He's not someone who gives up easily."
Mandy bit her lower lip. "I really did...screw it up…and…I really…love him." She looked around, making sure Ecklie wasn't around or any gossip hounds.
"No," Sara said, "you were right to give him space. He needed that time. But I can see he's still pretty damn hurt."
"Yeah, it's probably too late."
"I can't answer that," Sara told her knowing that Nick certainly was a forgiver, but given what's happened to him she wondered if he had reached his limit.
"It probably is, but it's just as well. I can't handle being with the lab heartthrob...getting these looks from other women who think I'm just too damn geeky for him. What the hell is he doing with her?"
"I know all about it," Sara said. "Hey, I'm no glamour girl."
"You're gorgeous, Sara!" Mandy told her.
"And you are too!" Sara said. "Geeze, give yourself some credit."
"Hey, he's better looking than me." Mandy bit her lip again.
"Oh for god sake, that's not true. I mean, if you two have kids I hope they don't get that chin of his. Oh lord, Nick would be an ugly woman!" Sara tried to joke, but Mandy wasn't in the mood for it. "It's not about looks. It's about the heart and the soul. That's what drew him to you. He told me in an e-mail weeks ago that you were like the bright light in the darkest of his days. You made him laugh. You took his mind off the crap happening to him. You were there the night he had to testify. He said he was so lucky to have you."
Each word Sara said pierced Mandy's heart and she asked, "So why didn't he tell me that himself?"
"He's a man," Sara laughed. "And they don't always tell you how they really, I mean really, feel about you and how much you mean to them. I'm just his friend, so it's easier to share that with me. Don't tell anyone this, but last year I found a letter in a book that Grissom wrote to me, but he never did give it to me straight. What's that all about?"
"Grissom!" Mandy said. "I guess he's got a romantic side under that intellectual exterior."
"Oh yeah," Sara said, "he does, but men are strange creatures. In a lot of ways, Nick and Grissom are a lot alike. I think you should just try to work it out, okay? Cut him some slack, Mandy."
"It doesn't matter. I'm not…he's too...it wasn't going to work." She stood up, tears rimming around her eyes. "I gotta go."
xxXXxx
Nick sat on the floor in his living room trying to put his CDs back together in some order. After Grisosm left, he and the guys went off and picked up some stands for his CDs and DVDs. Somehow they miraculously survived McVeigh's rampage.
He found an REM Greatest Hits Collection and smiled. He liked the band and they were southerners. Not all southerners become country music stars, nor do all southerners listen to nothing but country music. Nick learned, however, perception is often stronger then reality and that assumptions are often static.
Nick put the CD into the player and picked out E-Bow The Letter. He wasn't sure why he liked this song. Patti Smith sounded great on it, but the lead singer spent more time talking than singing. The guy had a great voice.
George glared from the top of his scratching post. Nick had spent the past two days assuring the little man that he was still the 'main dude in the house' although Nick also reminded the cat that HE was the Alpha male...head of the pack…head of the house! The Lion King, so to speak.
"You're the first guy I've ever met who actually cried during Dumbo!"
Eponine smiled at him amused as he walked into the kitchen after Stephanie went to bed. He went to the washroom to wash his face.
"Don't tell anyone." He smiled, embarrassed. "I'll even shove a few bucks your way if you need it."
"Oh, I think it's sexy."Eponine grinned.
The Texan reached for Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth to set aside for later viewing so he could fantasize again about being in the middle of the melting ice cap waiting for the hungry polar bear to come and devour him.
Now that's enough, Nick!
After arranging his media collection, he decided to grab a beer and dose off in front of the TV. Nick still tired easily, but that was due more in part to unending sadness that seemed to possess him like a demon. He didn't like that feeling, but the solution sat on the kitchen counter and he hated that even more.
His bed had survived the attack, but the last time he had slept in it, Mandy was with him. So the past few nights had him on the couch with the dog by his side and the cat on his chest.
Grabbing a can of Coors out of the fridge, he strolled to the couch to sit down and relax when the door bell rang. Nervous and curious, he slowly made his way to the door to see who would be calling at this hour. It was 11:00 p.m.
He peeked through the peephole and his eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat because outside was none other than Mandy.
Nick opened the door and looked out. "Hi."
She was wearing her blue lab coat, her hair up in a pony tail. Her makeup was smeared and her hands were pressed together as she smiled crookedly and said in a fleeting voice, "Hey."
They looked at each warily and she asked, "Can I…can I come in?"
He studied her, noticing her eyes were red, her pony tail limp, and her body tight and uneasy. His mouth tightened. "I guess."
Nick stepped aside and watched as she walked in, his arms folded, and then closed the door behind her.
REM continued to play on. The melancholic guitar e-bow vibrations filled the room as Michael Stipe sang/spoke:
I don't want to disappoint you
I'm not here to anoint you
I would lick your feet
But is that the sickest move?
I wear my own crown and sadness and sorrow
And who'd have thought tomorrow could be so strange?
My loss, and here we go again
A/N: Check this song out on You Tube as well as Country Feedback by REM, they fit the mood of this and the next chapter.
I'm not sure what kind of music Nick likes. And since I'm not one for stereotyping (or at least I try not), I picked the kind of music that I enjoy