As Nick bundled his silent mother into the car he couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards Sara. He loved her with all he had, but this…this was her fault. If she'd only kept quiet none of this would have happened. He wasn't an idiot, he knew he wasn't over it, that he probably never would be unless he faced up to what had happened, a part of which would surely include telling his mother and working through the blame he placed on his parents. The blame he would deny until the end of time, but that lay there, squatting inside his brain, oftentimes without him even being conscious of it. His problem was that it should have been his choice, he should have been able to decide when and how to reveal his secret, now he just felt like he'd been thrown into it, blindsided by his own anxieties and hurt.

Nick had barely opened his mothers hotel room door when his father was on his feet, striding towards him, obviously irritated. Jillian had been quiet for most of the journey, protesting only half heartedly when Nick said he'd take her back to the hotel and catch a cab home. The Judges voice betrayed nothing of his own feelings of uncertainty regarding how he'd dealt with Nick following his heartbreaking revelation. Sara had left him rattled and he now questioned whether he had truly acted in his sons best interests. Although the doubt had plagued him since Sara had left him back to his suite his focus right now was solely on his clearly disturbed wife. He knew without asking that Nick had said something.

"Jilly, honey, what is it, what's wrong?"

Jillian practically threw herself into her husband's arms, sinking onto the couch with him. He cradled her close to his strong chest, rocking her gently in his arms, pleading with her to tell him what was wrong, knowing deep down that he didn't want to know that she knew. He wished he could erase her memory. He loved her with every fibre of his being, and would have given anything to protect her from the pain that now engulfed her. He'd chosen her over his baby boy 14 years ago, and now she knew anyway, as it stood, she was broken hearted and he'd apparently sacrificed his son for nothing. William Stokes the Second now came abruptly to the realisation that he'd really fucked up. He wasn't a stupid man, he knew that once Jillian had calmed down she'd want to know what had happened, the very fact that she was clinging to him so fervently was proof enough that she had no idea of the role he'd played in concealing the truth from her, he only hoped the fallout from it all wouldn't be irreversible. Thoughts spun and twirled through his brain, while Nick stood forgotten on the threshold of the room, trying valiantly to stem the flow of his own tears. He was only remembered when, as was often the case with the Judge, anxiety manifested itself as anger and his father's eyes demanded the answers his mouth asked for.

"What the hell did you do Nick? What did you say to her?"

He only ever refrained from calling him Nicholas when he was too pissed off to remember to annoy him with his full title. This wasn't looking good. Nick took a few steps further into the room, one arm cradling his ribs, the other thrown out in protest at the accusation he'd acted badly towards his mother.

"Look…dad…just calm down, ok. She knows alright, she knows…"

"Jesus Nick, can you see what you've done to her, what did I tell you! I told you this would happen…this is exactly why I told you not to tell her! What the hell were you thinking, or were you just being the screw up you always have been and neglecting to give any thought to the situation at all!"

Nick struggled with the tears that were perched on his eyelashes. He wasn't going to cry, he'd heard it all before from his father, his only concern now was his mom. He kneeled beside her, ignoring the glare his dad threw at him, running his hand down her back, trying in vain to soothe her pain.

"Mom, please…please don't cry…momma, I'm sorry, just please, forget about it, it's over, ok, it's all going to be ok."

His mothers usually strong voice was cracked and choked with sorrow, her words disjointed, though the meaning was clear.

"Nicky…I…I don't know what to say to you…I just can't bare it. I can't bare to look at you."

Nick felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his whole body flushed hot and immediately cold, every nerve ending seemed to tingle and protest at his very existence. His mom wouldn't even look at him. He recoiled from her, and stumbled towards the door of the hotel room, he felt sick; he just needed to get the hell out of there. He was so intent on getting away from his parents that he barely heard his mothers whisper.

"I let him down Bill."

Sara was struggling to pay attention to the evidence she was processing. She stood opposite Warrick in the layout room, ALS-ing a bed sheet for no real reason. Warrick's chocolaty voice startled her from her thoughts.

"You want to talk about it Frisco?"

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a smile at the nickname.

"I'm fine thanks Vegas."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…I'm good, just a little tired I guess."

"Nick been keeping you up?"

Sara's laugh confused Warrick until he thought about what he'd actually said and found himself joining in the laughter.

"I don't think the layout room is really the appropriate place to discuss my sex life 'Rick."

"Jees, Sar, get your mind out of the gutter, I meant the nightmares."

Seeing the confliction on Sara's face, Warrick felt the need to elaborate.

"He a…he mentioned that he hadn't been sleeping too good the other night when I took him home…is he ok Sar, I mean, I know if I ask him he'll just bullshit me, but you can tell me y'know. It just seems like this case, the attack, it's all pretty heavy shit and you know how Nick is, always having to be "ok", I guess I'm just a little worried about him…about you too. Talk to me Sar."

Sara kept her head down; fiddling with the orange glasses she'd just taken off. She didn't know what to do, knew she couldn't betray Nick's confidence, but that he could probably use a friend like Warrick right now. She hardly dared look up, knowing that Warricks warm sea green eyes would bore a hole straight to her heart if she let them. He was a hard man to evade.

"It's fine Warrick, he's just having a rough time right now, and then with his dad being in town…you know how he gets when "The Judge" is around…I just…I wish he could catch a break, and now I feel like I'm just making everything harder for him…I kind of yelled at his dad earlier…he doesn't know yet…but I imagine Bill will take great pleasure in recounting all the details to him."

"Whoa, sounds kinda rough."

"Yea…and Nicks phone is going straight to voicemail, so I can't even get in there first."

A heavy silence fell over the room, Sara was pretending to process again, but Warrick wasn't through. He could feel the tension that radiated off Sara. She looked very much like someone with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He broke the silence once more, hoping to draw a little more information out of Sara.

"I heard Annabel is pleading guilty, Nicky was really rooting for her huh? Seems a shame to let her life go to waste like that, to leave her kid without anybody, it's rough."

"Yea, the only saving grace seems to be that with her evidence there's a chance Lynch will be prosecuted too, though I don't hold out much hope for them finding him. It seems he's been MIA since he was released."

"I heard they'd scheduled her arraignment for tomorrow afternoon, you think Nicky will want to go?"

Sara sighed; she wasn't really sure how good a judge she was when it came to Nick these days.

"I dunno Warrick, his head's all over the place. Part of me thinks that seeing Annabell will only make things worse, but maybe if he sees for himself that there's nothing more he can do he might actually drop it all. I just wish I knew what to do to make it better. He just seems so sad…so "un-Nick." I don't really know what he'll decide to do."

"Yea, I hear ya…Don't sweat it Sar, our boy is gonna be just fine. He always bounces back from these things. He'll make the right decisions."

Across town Nick sat in a dingy bar, hitting the bar tender up for another shot. He really wasn't a heavy drinker anymore, hadn't been drunk since his college days when he'd been a disreputable frat brother. His now weakened tolerance for alcohol, coupled with his exhaustion and fragile emotional state had left him feeling a little fuzzy as he chugged back his sixth shot of the evening. He hadn't been able to face going home, though he wasn't sure if it was for fear that Sara would be there, or fear that she wouldn't be. He didn't want to be alone, yet craved unadulterated silence. He truly was an enigma.

He'd been told many times that the answer didn't lie at the bottom of a bottle, but these where shot glasses…and who knew if anyone had checked for the answers in the bottom of one of them. He hadn't found the answer yet, but figured he owed it to science to have a few more, just so he could document his results from a representative sample. He downed another glass before pushing his glass towards the bartender, not bothering to look to see if he was being poured a glass or not. Nick Stokes was on the verge of wallowing in self pity when the aging bartender's voice parted the fog in his brain.

"I think you've had enough kid, go home, sleep it off, thing's look better in the morning…huh?"

Nick lifted his bleary eyes towards the voice, wanting nothing more than to agree and tumble off his stool and back into a cab. Head home, find Sara and fall into bed. He wished he'd never come to a bar after leaving his parents in the first place. Heading home…yea…that sounded like a pretty nice plan. He probably would have put it all into action too, had it not been for the sight of a familiar face, visible just to the right of the barman's head.

There he was, plain as day, sitting without a care in the world, nursing a pint of beer and chatting to a burly guy who sat next to him. Stan Lynch lifted his hand to signal the bartender and instantly Nick's eyes locked on his.

Looks like the party wasn't over just yet. All that remained to be seen now was whether it was Nick Stokes or Stanley Lynch that had picked the wrong bar to walk into...

AN...uh--ohh...That's probably all I have to say about that one...Thanks again for all those who are reading and especially those reviewing. Also thanks for the patience, the reviews have been a little less frequent, but hopefully the next one will be up pretty soon. Take it easy, and feel free to leave any comments. A...