Title: In Hell With Love

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. I'm just a fan.

Author's notes: Emotions, to me, are extremely important when it comes to describing the basis of human's survival here on earth. Emotions are seen everywhere and are designed to ensure that we're paying attention to the world around us. Whether or not we're aware of it, every choice we make is based upon our emotions. To be happy or sad, to hate or to love, to be with people or to be alone, to live or to die—these decisions are greatly based on our emotions. I pray that you'll choose the positive, because that is what I would like you to have and I would give it to you if I could.

To GSRfan82 (I apologize for the wait, and I really want to thank you for being the first to review the previous chapter. I want to see Nick do that too…thank you for striking me with inspiration.), CrazyGunFire (I'm really glad you stuck around :) and I hope you'll be around for a while. I really appreciate your review and I'm grateful that you're willing to reread this story again), rcsouza (Even though I don't understand Portuguese—Google Translate helped me out on this one—I'm really happy that you loved it. I'll continue this story for you with this chapter), multicoloredpen917 (Thank you for your review :) I'm glad you liked the story so far. I hope you'll like this chapter too), CSIsnickers101 (To be called a genius by you is too much :) I hope I'll be able to live up to your expectations with this chapter. Thank you. Hugs), Sarah (Are you Sarah L? If you are, I never got a chance to thank you for writing me such a rave review for chapter 23. I wanted to email you but you didn't leave a contact. I hope it's you, but if you're not, I'll still love you no matter what.) and last but not least stlouiegal (I just wanted to thank you for reviewing my story not only once, but twice and putting me as a favorite on your list. I wanted to commend you on how spot on you are in regards to the previous chapters. The positive emotions you've built up in me had a large influence on this chapter, and I hope you'll love it. You have my heart, and I'll give it to you willingly. Thank you so much :) )

To those who added this story on their favorite list, I would like to thank you too.

Chapter 25

Do you know why you're here?

Do you know why I'm doing this?

It's because… I can.

I can give you the awareness of death to encourage you to live more intensely.

I can put you close to the brink of death and bring you back whenever I want.

I can control your pain, your feelings, and your emotion.

I can make you find out and discover that you cannot do without me.

But ultimately, all I want is to destroy something beautiful.

And that beauty is you…

This was not the first time Nick found himself on the roof of a building, but this would be the first time he finds himself on the ledge. The low ledge in front of him was grey, bleak and dreary as the landscape stretched out before him, like a stage hosting a melancholy play. In the background there was the sound of traffic, of angry men going about their way in machines, as fast as possible, not caring for the safety of others. A siren blared a loud and raucous sound, calling dibs on their importance, carrying the tragedies that the night brings. The stale air blew its rancid polluted breath upon them, making the metal vents surrounding them howl.

The vents have come back to taunt him.

He felt a sense of déjà vu about where he was – same characters, different place, and the same situation. The feeling that he should be comforted and uplifted at knowing where she was only made him more misplaced that ever, confused, lost in someone else's life.

A protocol was established in a situation like this; do not engage unnecessarily, listen out for orders from the proper authorities, wait for backup and most importantly…subject's survival is paramount.

Nick knew that she was under the care of her PEAP counselor, and whatever he instructs would be the course of action they would have to take. It's like giving the reins to a sadistic scientist where one will not know the outcome of his brutal experiments till his subject is dead and rotting in the rejected pile of garbage.

For a moment he did not know what to do and standing where he stood made his existence almost pointless. To call out to her might scare her off the ledge, plummeting to her death at 120 miles per hour. The ground below would be just another crime scene and Sara would be just another dead body. How would he explain this to the team then? How could he ever forgive himself for letting it happen? To wait would result in her dying of the cold instead, of her falling off the ledge on her own, or worse, going back to her tormentor, strapped in a straight jacket and pumped full of drugs, even though she was just afraid and not crazy. How would he explain this to the team then? How could he ever forgive himself for letting it happen?

Images of worse-case scenarios played in his head; some plausible, some downright ridiculous. It wasn't until his phone vibrated did he snap back to reality, and not knowing what else to do, he read the message laminating on his phone screen.

(Heading 2 u now. Location?)

It was Brass. The formality in the message meant that he was on the move, and needed a quick reply.

(Hospital's roof. Situation critical, but under control.)

The last bit of his reply had been a programmed text message, one of the few phases given to all CSIs once they've been assigned their phones. He had never used this one before…

(Roger that.)

Nick sighed as he looked at the programmed reply, but just as he was ready to put his phone away, his phone vibrated once again.

(Don't let her fall ok?)

He nodded subconsciously. If anyone knew what was happening at this point of time, it would be Jim Brass. In all his experiences from being a police officer to a homicide detective, he has seen it all, and this was just one of the possible outcomes of this dire situation.

(Roger that.)

'A protocol was established in a situation like this …' Nick repeated the thought in his head, but he did not carry on. He looked at Sara. She looked so vulnerable and fallible, her shoulders slumped, her head down, that his impulses overrode the decision he had taken only minutes before to be professional.

… Subject's survival is paramount…

… Do not let the subject die…

Breaking every rule and logic, Nick sat on the ledge, not too far away from Sara. He was going to tell her how sorry he was for upsetting her, that he was quite grateful for her efforts in trusting him to make things right when he has done nothing but failed over and over again, but as the grainy tingling feel of the ledge coursed through his body, the reality of the situation jerked forcefully upon his senses, shuddering with messages of an immediate danger of falling, as well as failing, and before he could summon any words, the thoughts were gone.

Instead, the emotions that took over him were ones that he could not understand, at that point of time, why they begin to manifest in him now. They were anger and irritation towards his own friends. He became angry at the CSI team, those that claimed to be Sara's close—and probably—only friends, and wondered where on earth they could be. For as long as she had been in this hospital, neither of them stayed—like him— for days at a time, staying only hours and hours before leaving. From the moment she went missing to the moment he found her after god knows how long, their absence was palpable. But then, a sense of reason came to him and he began to wonder if it was actually possible for them to do so—to stay with her. Hospital policy allowed no more than 2 visitors at a time, and the lab quite a distance away from here for them to be able to make it within the hour. This sudden rationality made him feel extremely ugly, selfish and unreasonable. Had it not been for his insistence of staying with Sara, more of her friends would have been able to see her, to be with her. He became quite irritated with himself to the point of agitation, for he knows that all he wanted was them to see how he had placed his entire being into this case and expected them to do the same and he wanted them to do it his way.

And then, without warning and his conscious intentions, he found himself being angry at Sara. He did not mean to be, but the emotion came over him like a gust of wind in a narrow alleyway, its slender body circling his arms with an unusual restlessness that was capable of knocking him down onto his back and leaving him on the ground, completely vulnerable. He was a man. They have a certain code of conduct that leaves no room for tears, questions and terror. It was simple; save the girl, fight the bad guy, be the hero, end the story and live happily ever after. Why couldn't he do that? Why couldn't he just do that? For almost 2 years, he had been crying for his long-lost friend, he had prayed for her return, dwelled in self-pity and denial, and blamed himself and almost everyone else for this terrible misfortune that had befallen upon them. He wasn't angry at her for running out of her hospital room and onto the roof where life and death could be measured by how far one was willing to step off the ledge. No, he had himself to blame for that. He was angry, because she was his friend –one of the best— and without her even knowing or trying, was able to extract every care and emotion out of him that would make him weak. Her absence can make his world crumble, and it was only when she was taken away that he realized how much she meant to him as a friend. She was his friend, his sister, his kryptonite, and all he has ever been to her was ungrateful.

Not again. Not this again…

He knew he had to go through all of this again. Telling her that everything will be okay, that he'll come after whoever did this, that he'll always be with her no matter what. He imagined himself saying the same things over and over again; the same concerns and lies, worried that she would remember and not believe him like the first time or worse, not remembering at all. He would make promises that he cannot keep, vows that he cannot abide by, pacts that he would break, and all for what? So that he could feel better about himself? Was this about guilt or regret? Self-loathing? No. He simply wanted the continued promise of lift, this hope that he could, in his own way, challenge the unfair trials that life had set out for them, and feel for whatever moments, together with Sara, the joys and majesty of their brief living.

He looked at her as he sat next to her on the ledge, and noticed that she was shaking. Not in the rhythmic way the body moves when it experiences great cold, but in an irregular beat that mimics the intervals of an unpredictable tremor.

And he knew the reason why…

Her wound reopened and she was bleeding from her shoulder again. There was also a cut on her hand that he hadn't seen before, and he knew she had gotten that just a few moments ago. The IV tube was still attached to the back of her hand, and its bag was empty of its contents of its painkiller concoctions, looking like a deflated organ. Some of her blood was flowing back into the tube, mixing with the foreign fluid. In that moment, all of his negative emotions towards his friends dissipated and diverted into anger towards the hospital.

"I'm going to get you out of here. These people here, they have no idea what they're doing. You don't have to feel this way anymore. I'll make the pain will go away. As soon as you can be moved, I'm taking you away from here..." He said, more to himself than to Sara. He wasn't expecting her to listen to him at all. He had said all this before anyways...

More promises…more promise he could break so easily…

"...Nick…"

He didn't expect it but the reply was soft and sure. That was the first time she had said his name. The first time in a long time. It had been so long, that he had almost forgotten what it sounded like, and to hear it once again was beautiful. An unspeakable sense of jubilance crept into his body so fast he thought he might burst, that even if he had fallen off the ledge, he would survive just clinging onto the pure joy that he was experiencing. All those moments in her prison and the hospital, while he was trying to save her and almost failing, how he had walked out of her room when she needed him most, the way he had abandoned her that would ultimately lead to this precarious situation, the awful feelings that he had felt towards the team and her… despite every despicable sin he had committed that would damned him to a lifetime of guilt and shame went away by the way she said his name. He felt forgiven and cleanse by her forgiveness of him. She had listened to everything he said, remembered it and knew that he was a friend—her friend, and that he was only here because he believed that there was a way he could help her, to save her, to rescue her.

Maybe even fix her…

"Yeah?" He replied absentmindedly, the sense of not wanting to forget this moment rendering him speechless.

"...Why did you leave?" She asked, more of longing than an accusation of abandonment.

He was surprised at her sudden loquaciousness and caught off guard by her question. It was as if the openness of this grand space on a high place had return part of his friend back to him; as if the air from above it was the key to arouse her out of her catatonic state of solitude; as if extreme fear had the ability to awaken the final sense of awareness and acceptance of the end of someone's life. Whatever it was, he felt a great need to give her a reply.

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do…I thought we would have more time…".

She moved and this time, she was sitting with her head on her knees, his jacket and her hospital gown baggy, her hair blowing with the wind, a mild tangled mess. Her face was dry and if she had been crying earlier, the only clue would be the small round-shaped patches on her gown, seeping through onto the hospital pants she had on. The shivers visibly running though her body but going completely unregistered in her face, a lifeless reflection of the dark sky above.

Fearing that she was not convinced by what he had to say, Nick continued, "It gives me hope; it gives me an amazing hope, to know that you are here. I've been waiting for this for so long, and I never knew how blessed I was to have you. All those days of not knowing where you were, what you were doing or how you were doing were the most horrifying days of my life. I had dreamt of moments, told myself things, and imagined our lives being different from what they are now. How you would be… be if all of this didn't happen. Our lives would have been so different…"

He looked down to his hands and felt this deepen sense of lost as he spoke. He remembered the day when she smiled at him just moments before her kidnapping. The way she spoke, the way she walked, her personality laid out before him, only to be reduced down to this; her brilliant mind retracted away, her physical state withered down to nothing.

"It seems like… a horrible crime had been committed but the wrong person went to prison. I know that you came here not to end your life but get away from some part of it that scares you. And you came here… because you just didn't know what to do. You're sitting here... because you didn't know where to go. I know, I get it, I would have done the same thing."

That's not completely true. He's not as strong as Sara… He might have chosen to end his life right here…

"The team is coming, and we're coming here to be with you. They'll come and you might not recognize them at first but they'll know you. They might call out to you, or just wave… They would want to speak to you, and they'll speak to you because they cannot help it. We have missed everything about you; your face, your smile, even the mere space between us. All the while we would know how blessed we are to have each other... and to have you. All the while I will know that you are here. How can I leave you alone now? I'll never leave you again…"

That's not completely true. He's not as strong as Sara… He had left her once before…

He hated his thoughts. He had always admired the way Sara kept her promises, said what she meant, do what she said she would do. That made her a great CSI, a better friend and a wonderful person. Why haven't they noticed it before? Why did it have to lead up to this for them to notice? If the roles were reversed, Sara would be able to talk anyone out of sitting on a ledge. She had all that – all these talents –and now it's gone, and Nick knew that he didn't have the same ability she does.

As he dwelled on his thoughts, Nick noticed a police vehicle turning into the hospital building. Its pint-size image with its tiny lights flashing blue and red allowed him to distract himself for a moment, and as he moved his feet to trace its path, as small amount of gravel fell from where he sat. An impending omen of what's to come if they did not get off the ledge. More and more police vehicles and SUVs followed the path of the first, a neat line of shapes mimicking a trail of army ants, making their way to them...

They're coming. And Nick has only a minute to do what he has to do…

"I'm going towards you now and I hope with all my heart that you come towards me. I'll take you away from here and I'll take you home. And I know from there... everything's going to be all right…"

He had caught her attention, and she looked at him wearily through her sad, lonely eyes. Eyes filled with tears, her face streaked by their damage.

"... Nick… I don't want to stay here…"

"I know…"

"…Can we go home today?"

A simple request that he knew he would not be able to grant. There was no possible way for Sara to be taken out of this hospital in the next few days. There were still tests to be run, evaluations to conduct and counseling sessions to take place. It would be against the law for her to leave this hospital. Do not lie; you have lied to her enough. Tell the truth, you have to tell her the truth. His conscience yelling into his ears, and his heart knowing that another promise was about to be broken again.

More promises…more promise he could break so easily…

He nodded as tears began to form in his eyes and lies began to form on his lips.

"Okay. We'll go… we'll go today. Just come with me, alright?"

He stood up and took her in his arms and embraced her so tightly and suddenly that all the air in her chest was squeezed out, her vision near blurring. He smelled familiar and she breathed him in as deeply as she could, burying her face in his shirt. She felt loved in his grasp and without knowing it was coming she found herself breaking down all at once, sobbing and pressing her cheek against the smooth, curved bone behind his ear. She wasn't afraid for her own life so much as stricken by the fear that she might not see him ever again.

Nick from the corner of his eyes sees a blur of bodies running about, moving in no particular flow or direction. He could hear his friends yelling close by. He couldn't hear the words, but he understood that help was coming. He only had to keep Sara from falling away, and as the bodies became one focused crowd of people, he strengthened his grip on her body to let her know: He would not let her go. Even though, hugging her in a precarious position, with the wind blowing cold air through them as they stood together on the ledge of the hospital building, he thought he would like this moment last forever: people close by calling out to them, a friend who had once disappeared and became a complete stranger, now holding him with the intensity that matched the power of gravity. She was on the ledge because she wanted to live, and he was going to tell that to the people around them and proclaim it to anyone who would listen.

But before he could say anything, he noticed a familiar figure standing at a distance. The sound of his footsteps crept its way towards them like the ticking seconds of a clock before the stroke of midnight. And as the sound manifested into an image and that image into a person, Nick knew exactly who he was up against.

Dr. Dennis Namon walked up towards them, with a group of policemen and orderlies close behind him.

"Mr. Stokes, let go of my patient and step away from the ledge. You're done here…"

TBC

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Express your emotions in a review if you can :)