"Where's Nick
IRREVERSIBLE
CHAPTER 25
When a deep injury is done us, we never recover until we forgive
Alan Paton, South African Writer
We achieve inner health only through forgiveness - the forgiveness not only of others but also of ourselves
Joshua Loth Liebman
Smokey deserves a medal of honour for her edits.
"C'mon, fucking shoot him."
Nick held his breath and waited. He blinked a few times as the tears slid down his face. He could feel the gun trembling against his temple. The Texan was frozen beyond fear, his body no longer his own.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Shoot him!" McVeigh ordered.
"I can't do it," Smith rasped.
"Then let me do it!"
"No! We got what we wanted."
"He'll rat if we let him go alive."
Nick's eyes popped open and he shook his head. "No" and a tiny whimper escaped his throat.
"Let's get out of here," Smith's voice said, tinged with emotion, "before we get caught." Then the man was behind him and yanking him up.
"Jesus! Jesus!!" Nick jackknifed in bed and looked around, frantically gasping. What the hell was that? He looked around the freshly painted bedroom and focused on the new degree Grissom had given him in the brass frame with his alma mater insignia from Texas Tech University engraved on it. The insignia had a star on it, and he focused on this star to calm his nerves.
He took a swig of room temperature water from the bottle he had set on the table along with the Atavan he had forgotten to take. Nick picked up the bottle and gingerly fingered it between his fingers wondering if he should pop one and allow it to do its job, giving him the 'restorative' sleep his therapist said he sorely needed, or if he should just try to wing it again.
Mandy was having a 'girls' night' out with Catherine, Jacqui, Wendy, and Sara Sidle before the former CSI left to go back to Africa.
Exhaling, Nick put the bottle back on the table and lay back onto the pillow, hands behind his head.
This was happening more often. As he healed from the attack, the blackouts were clearing and more memories seemed to infiltrate the spaces. While he wished it weren't the case, in some ways the information helped. A small part of him was now finally finding forgiveness towards Smith for his role, knowing the guy saved his life. As hard as it was, Nick at least was getting past the pain of wishing they had killed him that day. He chose life more so to spite McVeigh who was now dead and rotting away, hopefully, in hell.
Nick placed his fingers on his temples and rubbed them, allowing his nerves to settle on their own accord instead of running to grab the Atavan that taunted him from the table. Dr. Marsmann and he had worked on the grounding technique again, so he counted five things he saw, five things he could feel, and five things he could hear. Then he reached under the pillow and clasped Mandy's prayer beads.
Nerves settled, he lay back onto the bed. The phone rang, causing him to jump up again, his nerves still rattled apparently.
"Hello?"
"Hey! Did I wake you?" It was Sara. She sounded so far away.
"No, I was already up." He smiled at hearing her voice.
"How are you?" she asked brightly.
"Where are you?" Nick asked, hearing PA systems and many voices.
"At the airport…ready to take off." She paused then scolded him, "You should have been coming with me."
Leaning back into the pillows, he sighed. "I wasn't ready yet, Sara."
"I know, and you were right. It's only for a year," Sara said.
"Yep. In an hour I'll be off too."
"So you are going to that memorial service?" It sounded more like a command than a question.
"Yeah, her mother sent me an e-mail, and after I read it I couldn't say no."
"Really? Do you want to forward it to me?"
"Yeah sure." Nick laid an arm across his forehead and went on, "Sara, thanks for being a good friend through all this."
"You know what, Nick? I had to be. I wasn't there for you after the kidnapping ordeal with the Gordons."
"Sara! You found me. You were there afterwards, so don't be saying that."
"But then things happened with Grissom and I kind of got caught up in it," Sara said ruefully. "And I'm sorry I never said goodbye to you when I left. I was messed up. Big time!"
Nick smiled. "Hey, don't worry about it. I didn't need anyone hovering around me anyway."
"Well, I'm glad I could be there for you, and I think you're doing much better now."
"Thanks for helping me out with Mandy."
"I wasn't going to let you lose a really nice, sweet girl like her. A girl like that doesn't come around often. She just needed some perspective on things." Sara's smile could be heard through her voice. "And I'm leaving you in good hands."
"Sara, will there ever be a day that goes by where I won't think about the…rape?" Even after all these months, he still could hardly bring himself to say the R word.
Sara was silent as she gathered her thoughts and then answered, "I think it will get to a point where you'll not allow it to haunt you as much, just like your kidnapping. I do think you will always be triggered, and no matter how much therapy you get there will be dark days, but those days will come less and less."
"The reason I initially declined going to the memorial service is because I know after it's over, mentally I'm going back to the day. The anniversary is coming up, and I'm just not coping with it at all. I'm trying, but Jesus…it's tough."
"Yeah, I know, Nick," Sara said with a sad sigh. "Just breathe and take it minute by minute, second by second, okay? I'm only an e-mail away, and if you need to rant and rave then just do it. Think of me as a journal. I can stay objective and sympathetic no matter what you say."
"You must have been freaked when I first sent you that e-mail after it happened."
"Nick, I just wanted to jump through the computer and hug you, just like I did when I had to watch you on that webcam during your kidnapping."
"I could have used a big hug then."
"Well, I can't do it now, so Mandy will have to hug you for me."
"That's not a hard job for her." Nick smiled through the phone.
"Oh I know, and uh…I…heard about what happened. Grissom told me." Sara laughed. "You bad boy!"
"Grissom looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Was he pissed?"
"No, just shocked and then amused. We had a good laugh over it."
"Well, I guess I'm good for something," Nick scoffed. "Giving you two a laugh when you guys just got lucky and never got caught."
"Well, Grissom knew Ecklie's schedule, and we didn't let it get that far."
"Liar!" Nick snorted.
"No, we didn't!" Sara insisted. "You two lovebirds took it way beyond anything we did. Maybe lovebirds is the wrong analogy. From what Grissom saw, he thought he walked in on an episode of Californication. You need to get your own show, Nick, and call it Vegasvamps or something"
"I don't have a sex addiction!" Nick snorted.
"Sure! And I'm Mother Theresa!"
"Whatever!" The Texan shook his head and continued, "I'm sure you two didn't do anything but talk about bugs."
"No, we read Shakespeare to each other. Well, they're calling my plane. Take it easy, Nick."
"Thanks, Sara. Thanks for calling and for everything."
"Anytime!"
Nick hung up the phone and looked at George who was sitting in front of him, pointy head cocked to the side. "Shakespeare my ass!"
George chirped in agreement, walked over, and head butted him on the chin while Figaro meowed and waited for Nick to pick him up. All of a sudden the bed shook as Zack leaped onto it and settled down on Mandy's side of the bed, tongue hanging happily.
"You know that you're gonna get kicked off when she gets home, right?"
Zack barked in response as if to say, "Yep!"
"Fine, everybody, let's all go night night!" Nick laid Figaro on the pillow and then slid back down and drifted off.
"Alright!" a sweet voice said sternly accompanied by a shifting of the bed. "Make room for me."
Mandy crawled up and settled down beside Nick, squishing herself on the pillow. "Hey you."
"Hey!" He clasped the hand that slid around his waist.
"What are you doing awake?" Mandy scolded. "You're supposed to be getting some rest for tomorrow."
"Sara called me."
"Oh yeah, she joined us for a bit," Mandy said as she snuggled down in the crook of his shoulder.
"Mandy?" Nick said.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks." He turned over and faced her.
"For what?" she asked, her eyes filled with curiosity.
"For taking a chance with a guy like me." He smiled and stroked her cheek his thumb. "I don't deserve you."
Mandy smiled tenderly at him and said, "I feel the same way after what I put you through."
"Only because you're a jealous girl, but then I'm jealous too," he teased. But then his tone became serious. "No, but you know another reason I love you? You took on someone damaged like me."
Mandy fixed him with a stern stare. "Don't you ever, EVER, say that about yourself, dude. And just so you know, I don't see any damage because it's not there, and even if there was damage the love I feel for you overshadows it." She leaned over and kissed him soundly and then whispered, "You've got a long day ahead of you, so get some rest."
"Yes ma'am." Nick curled up onto his side and listened as she changed into her pajamas and drifted off to a dreamless slumber with George plopped over his head.
xxXXxx
The past three days of their suspension had been spent fixing up his place, giving it a softer look than the previous sports/science adornment. The walls were dark grey and the trophies found themselves a new home in the solarium Nick had built onto the back of the house last summer.
Mandy had brought her furniture over and turned the guest room into an office for her to do consulting work during her off hours from the lab, and she had started writing Star Trek fan fiction as well.
It was a peaceful co-existence maintained in a routine of getting up in the morning and taking brisk one hour walks with Zack. The dog trainer had told them that exercise was very, very important for a dog and since Nick loved to work out and Mandy was starting to enjoy it as well, the three of them benefited from the routine.
Nick also spent time drawing more pictures of nothing really significant. He drew a great shot of Figaro sitting in the solarium sunning himself on a scratching post ledge with his front paws tucked under his curled body, his blind, blue eyes facing the sun. The Texan didn't think his drawing did the feline justice, but Mandy begged to differ and purchased a brown wooden frame at a flea market to put the picture in for the wall. She insisted on devoting one wall to his photos and drawings. Nick agreed to the very end of the wall right by the solarium where no one but they could see it.
Neither talked about the reason why they were home. No references were made to it. Mandy had suggested that they leave early and head off to Texas, but Nick declined, fearful of suspicion from his parents as to why they were there early. They were lucky enough that his mother would allow them to stay in the cottage together given her beliefs about non-married couples co-habitating. Mother Stokes had told him that at this point in the game they were just glad he had maintained a solid relationship longer than he had in years as they were convinced he'd be a turncoat and become a priest, to which Nick answered the holy water would boil over in his bare hands.
His mother didn't like that comment, so he shut up.
xxXXxx
"Where's Nick?" Warrick asked Mandy as he waited by the door. They were heading off to the Joanna Barker Memorial Service.
"Hey, George! Let go!" a voice accented by a southern twang called out.
Warrick turned his attention to outside the front door and walked out to find Nick holding George by the scruff. The orange kitty had a chipmunk in his mouth. The hapless animal was curled into a fetal position, frozen with fear.
"Dammit, George!! I feed you the best food around, so drop the friggin' thing. Now!!"
George growled and refused to let go. His eyes were black with triumph and disappointment as he just wanted to show his master his new play toy. Therefore, the orange fluff ball held steadfast.
"Let go!!" Nick growled back, equally determined to prevent a crime scene.
The chipmunk wiggled and freed itself, then raced off.
Warrick stood there with his hands on his hips while Mandy laughed. "You really did cry during Bambi, Nick, didn't you?"
Sunglasses perched on his nose, there was nothing more amusing than seeing Nick Stokes, dressed to the nines in a grey suit and white dress shirt, marching angrily up the steps with a growling, orange tabby named after his doppelganger.
"The last time he ate a mouse I had to take him to the vet and get him de-wormed, and I'm not in the mood for dealing with this right now." Nick scowled as he tossed the snarling kitty into the house whereupon George glared at his owner and then flicked his tail at him. "And I'm tired of coming out my front door to a half-eaten mouse left for me. Next thing you know, George will be tying a bow around it."
"He's bringing you a present," Mandy insisted. She was dressed in black dress pants, a blue blouse, and an accompanying blazer, her hair swept into soft waves framing her sweet face. "He loves you so much that he wants to share his triumphs with you."
"I'm flattered!" Nick snorted sarcastically. "But I found the last one in my shoe, and it wasn't pleasant."
Warrick grimaced. "That's a weird way of showing your love to someone."
"Healthy man-cat love, Warrick. Like us." Nick smiled. "In fact, I think I'll go stomp on one of Grissom's tarantulas and stuff it in your locker to show my healthy man love for you."
"Yeah, you do that and I'll clock you one, although Grissom will probably get to you before me."
George slipped out the front door only to find himself up in a scruff again. "Don't you even think about it," Nick growled.
The cat reached out and tried to swat Nick in the nose and was thanked with a toss through the front door. Mandy groaned. "Good lord. I'm living in a ½ hour comedy. I'm gonna called it the King of Vegas starring Nick Stokes."
"What is with me and TV shows? I look like some guy in a crime show, Sara says they should do a show about my supposed sex addiction, and now a ½ hour comedy...whatever," Nick humphed and then added, "I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag!"
"Did I hear you say you have a sex addiction?!" Mrs. Matthews called over as she sat on her stoop with a can of Diet Coke and EIGHT tabbies sitting beside her. Nick was convinced those cats were now dividing themselves, one cat splitting into two. "Good for you, Nick, for finally admitting it, because as they say the first step to recovery is admitting it. Now if you can do something about all that damn drinking you're doing then we're well on our way to avoiding the men in white making an emergency trip to your house." Her eyes gleamed merrily with delight at her bantering.
Warrick snorted and turned away while Mandy clasped a hand over her face to hold back her own laughter, and Nick bit his tongue because he wanted to shout something back about her feline addiction, but his momma taught him to respect his elders and for once he'd listen.
"Have a nice day, Mrs. Matthews!" Nick said with a wave before turning to Mandy and Warrick with, "Let's go before I say something I regret."
Still smirking, Warrick went on ahead, but Nick gently took Mandy by the arm and whispered, "IF I have a sex addiction, you're my enabler!!"
"Oh whatever!!" Mandy mumbled back as he noticed today she wore her glasses. She would probably switch to the contacts later, but he didn't care either way. With a salacious smile she punched the Texan's arm.
Nick mocked, "Hey! Warrick, she hit me! Call Brass and have her brought up on assault charges."
"Yeah, whatever!" Warrick shook his head as he slid behind the wheel. "Should I drop you two off at the nursery up the road?"
"No," Mandy giggled. "Nick was suspended for not sharing his crayons." She got into the vehicle beside him while Nick politely sat in the back. "And then I got suspended for punching him."
They pulled out and headed off.
"No, we got suspended for playing I'll show you mine and you show my yours, only it was in the broom closet at work," Nick said. "Remember, Mandy?!"
Mandy smiled at him wistfully and flushed. "How could I forget? It was awesome." She looked over at Warrick to gage his reaction and was delighted to see him grunting in discomfort as was Nick.
"Okay, okay, you two, that's way too much information for me!" Warrick groaned watching the two of them make lovey dovey eyes at one another. "Geeze, you two make me sick. You're so cutesey wootsy. Like those little stuffed animals they sell in Hallmark with the velcro arms wrapped around one another.
"Didn't you buy me one for Valentine's one year, Warrick?" Nick said with a demure smile he flashed in the rearview mirror, blowing a kiss to his friend. "I still have it in my locker!"
"Yeah, next to your blue woobie!"
"Hey, leave my woobie alone!" Nick whined folding his arms in a playful childlike manner. "It's my transitional object!" Then he noticed they were getting close to the park as they had left the more middle class area of Vegas and were heading into a familiar area.
Now Nick remembered. This was the neighbourhood where poor Brass had accidentally shot the cop. It was not far off Henderson where the income level of said residents was lower. It hadn't changed much since that fateful day three years ago, and he wondered if Brass, who was coming to the memorial, was dealing with his own demonic flashbacks.
Joanna's parents were far from rich. Her dad had been in an auto accident years prior and had lost not only his job as a result but their life savings on health care costs. They moved into the area for cheaper housing and to be closer to Joanna's grandparents who had lived there for over 40 years. He was still unable to work but was trying to put a writing career in order while her mom worked at the YMCA as an exercise instructor. The money was not great, but it gave her the flexibility to look after her family which included Joanna's two younger siblings.
When Nick had read about the family, it made his heart sink to know how much tragedy these poor people had endured. Money, health, and now a child dead.
Life was truly unfair!
Ron Chevarie had been found guilty and was sentenced to death. His insanity plea didn't work out. Apparently, Marjorie Wescott's attempt to discredit Nick and subsequently Warrick didn't go over so well this time around. Perhaps the murder of a child was not something a jury was willing to let someone off with, insanity or no insanity.
Nick was just relieved that Chevarie would never see the outside world again. One more evil son of a bitch off the street.
Still, the case haunted him because there was still that nagging feeling that if someone had to die after being so horrifically attacked, it should have been him, not a ten year old girl, but himself because hell, he'd lived almost half his life whereas she had a whole life ahead of her.
"What's wrong?" He heard Mandy's voice pervade his dark, cloudy thoughts that changed the mood in the car from playful to somber.
"Nothing. I just want to get this over with. I mean I'm honoured, but I have a hard time being around them. It just brings me back to that time is all." Nick slid his shades back on and twiddled with his college ring.
"Well, it's all about Joanna today, Nick," Warrick said. "Her mom told me she very much wanted you there. She knows a bit of your history…remembers watching the news three years ago when you were kidnapped and she admires you very much…both her parents do. They felt you should be there to see some closure on this case."
"Their daughter is dead. There's no closure there."
"Maybe they don't see it that way, Nick," Mandy told him.
Warrick drove them over to the playground where Joanna Barker used to love hanging out with her friends. He played some soft jazz music while Nick sat in the back staring out the window and Mandy sat quietly in the front.
Truth be known, Nick was scared to death to go because the Joanna Barker case triggered him back to the days after his attack. He was making slow but steady progress in therapy, and Dr. Marsmann had told him if he didn't want to go he shouldn't have to, but then she pointed out correctly that some of his emotions could be deemed 'survivor guilt' as Nick had blurted out to her. "I can't help but think it should have been me dead and not her. She was a little girl, and I've lived my life and really, why am I still alive and she's dead? Why did Smith not pull the trigger?"
Which brought back another memory from the vault of blackness.
In the letter, Smith admitted being the one who dressed him afterwards. Redressing a victim of rape is seen as a sign of regret or remorse, and Nick concluded that while McVeigh took pleasure in his attack on him, Smith did not. Therefore a small part of the Texan was able to forgive at least one of his attackers slightly.
"Hey, you still here?" Warrick called.
"Yeah," Nick said. "Just thinking."
"You do enough of that, so stop it!" Warrick called back.
The Texan had written Mrs. Barker an apology letter saying he may not be able to attend and hoped that would be it, but Mrs. Barker had sent an e-mail to him. He pulled it out of his pocket and read it again.
Dear Mr. Stokes:
I am writing this on the eve of your testimony in court. I tried to track you down today, but you had already left.
Thank you for everything you did for Joanna and our family. If it weren't for you and your colleagues at LVPD, there would have been no justice for our daughter and Chevarie might have gone on and hurt more children.
It sounds like you have had a rough life in the past year and I'm very sorry to hear of it and will add you into my prayers so that the Lord will continue to give you the strength and courage to continue with the work that you do. You have a very crucial and important job-to keep the streets safe for our children. It's a thankless job which is why I'm sending you this note to ensure you that your good work does not go unnoticed.
So I do hope you come out to the event. It will be low key, but very touching-a fitting tribute to my beautiful daughter.
My prayers are with you, Mr. Stokes. I hope life brings you good health and peace of mind.
Trudi Barker
Nick put the letter back in his pocket and leaned back into the seat. They were almost there. There was no way after that letter he could NOT go. Outof respect for the mother and the daughter, he had to be there.
XxXXxx
Our God is an awesome God
He reigns from Heaven above
Joanna Barker attended Church of Christ Baptist Church, an evangelical church. She sang in the choir, but not today. Today, her fellow choir members sang jubilantly, breaking into a harmony while her fellow parishioners clapped and sang along dressed in jeans, t-shirts, skirts, and Canvass shoes, just as her mother wanted them to be as it was a day for the kids. They performed on a plywood makeshift stage complete with a small metal podium. The backdrop was a large red velour curtain hanging presumably over the mural.
Nick sat in the back row with the rest of the team, feeling a bit awkward, although he was kind of used to this after his sister became a 'born again' Christian after he was buried alive. His teammates were probably not, save for Warrick.
"Those kids are good!" Warrick commented. "Damn good. I saw this clip on You Tube with some Tanzanian kids singing it."
"Hmm," Nick said. "My sister's kids sang this song to me while I was visiting last summer."
Warrick smirked at him. "Still trying to convince you to become a born-again Christian?"
"Yeah," Nick nodded wearily.
"What do you tell her?"
"I was born once, thank you very much."
The black man smiled and shook his head. "It ain't so bad."
"I know. I'm just quiet on these things, you know?" Nick explained, not willing to share his near death experience of playing cards with Buddha, Jesus, Death, his cat, George, and drinking beer with them along with Johnny Cash, Elvis, and Kurt Cobain with anyone other than Mandy who thought it was funny and Grissom who had a philosophical and scientific take on it.
Nick leaned over to Warrick again. "Isn't this a bit of a happy tune for a memorial?"
Grissom, who was sitting behind him, heard the question. "A memorial is to celebrate someone's life. It's not a funeral."
"I know. I just thought they'd sing something more..." Nick's voice trailed off as he tried to remember why he hadn't gone to the funeral. Oh yeah…he was pretty sick by then, and what strength he had went straight to solving Joanna's murder. He had made a 300 donation to the Vegas Humane Society in her honour, having been told how much she loved animals.
The song ended with a thunderous round of applause as the children smiled shyly and descended the stage. Joanna Barker's mother then took the podium and thanked everyone for coming out and especially thanked the members of the LVPD, including the forensics team, for taking time out of their busy schedule to attend this very important service. Then she got to the heart of the matter.
"Joanna was a special little girl. She liked music…loved all kinds of music. She was learning to play the piano, and she loved being a part of the choir. This song we chose today was her favourite one. She used to play the Michael W. Smith version over and over again."
There was light laughter in the audience as Warrick turned to Nick who said, "Christian rock singer. He's actually pretty good. Not that I listen to him."
"So what if you did?" Warrick shrugged.
"But there is a point to this song, and that message is that no matter how bad our lives are and how horrible the world is around us, there is always good. It shows itself in small ways, such as the sight of a bird flying through the sky, or in huge ways, working through people who are out there trying to keep our streets a safer place.
And God works through us in other ways, and that is through forgiveness. Many of you were shocked when I said in my victim impact statement that I had forgiven Ron Chevarie for taking Joanna from us in such a horrid way, but there's a reason, and it's not always about being a good Chrisian." Joanna turned her gaze toward Nick. "It's about not living in the past, because when you go down a road of hate, anger, and rage toward those who hurt you, you've locked yourself into a prison. Ron Chevarie is in prison for life for what he did, but I'm not going to let what he did to my daughter imprison me as well. Joanna wouldn't have wanted that.
Forgiveness is about living and not letting the past chain you up. Forgiveness is about healing. Forgiveness is about continuing forward and living out the life God intended you to live, not on the timeline you decide to take. Believe me, when Joannafirst died, I wanted to die too. I wanted to be with her, but I knew she wouldn't want that for me, nor would God want that for me. He has his own timeline for me and for all of us.
Yes there are evil people out there, but to not forgive them is to give them more power over your life and your destiny, and God doesn't want that for us. He wants us through him to be in charge of our destiny and to continue to conquer the evil by being all that he wants us to be.
And you know what? Don't remember Joanna as a victim. Remember the good she brought into each and every one of your lives."
Nick was looking down because dammit, those leaky faucets were at it again. He felt the warmth of Mandy's hand linking his and squeezing as she leaned over and discreetly handed him a tissue.
xxXXxx
The mural was unveiled and it was gorgeous; an entire wall of her face. The artist captured the hints of gold in her hazel eyes, an accurate count of the freckles, the mass of rusty curls in soft waves around her face, and a smile that must have lit up a room. The background of the portrait was a blue sky with balloons, clouds, and kittens. She loved kittens.
Nick smiled at Mandy while he heard Warrick mutter, "Wow, that's pretty amazing. Heard they got some local kids who were known to police for the eloquent graffiti art to put their skills to use."
Indeed, two young males, miniature versions of Warrick, walked up to the podium and received gifts of iPods, donations from a local dealer who helped sponsor the event. Embarrassed by the attention at first, they eagerly accepted the gifts and then hugged Joanna's mother and father in thanks.
"Apparently, this mural was their get out of probation free card," Warrick said.
"Hey, whatever gets them on the right path," Nick said. "As long as we don't have to see them on a slab in few years or even in Clark County holding."
A local eatery had donated the spread of cheese, meats, crackers, wraps, vegetables, and deserts upon deserts. Nick wasn't very hungry and tried to make himself scarce while Mandy helped herself and stood aside talking to Catherine and Grissom.
Nick found a bench in front of the small playground and watched as a small boy asked his dad to push him higher and higher on a swing.
"Higher dad!!" Nick squealed.
"Okay, Pancho, higher and higher we go!!" his dad called back.
"Mr. Stokes?"
Nick turned around and saw Trudi Barker walking toward him. Her small frame was dressed in a navy blue button-up dress with a gold buttons and a gold belt fastened snuggly around her waist while her reddish hair was swept back in a low pony tail. Laugh lines decorated her green eyes and freckles decorated her cheeks. She was truly her daughter's mother as Nick recalled from seeing her daughter in the morgue.
"How are you?" she asked, genuinely pleased to see him.
"Good!" he answered and then gestured to the empty spot beside him. "Have a seat and just call me Nick."
Smiling warmly she walked over and sat beside him, hands clenched on her lap. "Nick, I'm so glad you came today," she said. While her eyes were bright, Nick could see the glimmer of a forever haunting sadness in her eyes, one that echoed his own. Crime victim to crime victim, a silent pain only those who had been through a crime and survived could understand. "You did great on the stand in spite of that horrid lawyer."
"Yeah," said Nick, and he turned to gaze upon the kids on the playground adding, "I don't think so. I'm sorry." He turned back to her feeling guilt-ridden.
She shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You did very well. If anything I'm sorry to hear you've had a rough time lately."
Nick stared her and could catch a glimpse of wisdom there and perhaps, perhaps she could answer this question. "I jus was thinking about the speech and you know…I just want to know…how did you find forgiveness for Chevarie?"
She blinked and pressed her lips together tightly. "It took a long time. I have my faith and I drew my strength from it. Forgiveness is an ongoing journey and a process one has to come to on their own terms."
Trudi then stared directly into Nick's eyes. "I know you've been through a lot because when I asked about the CSI handling my daughter's case, I was given your name and it rang a bell with me. So I did a little research, wanting to know the last person other than the funeral director who would be with my daughter before we put her in the ground."
Nick looked down and sighed. "Yeah, I've been a victim. Hazard of the job I guess."
"Sounds like it," Trudi agreed. "But I guess what it really was…after what happened to you three years you stayed on. I don't know if I could have done it."
"Well, I wasn't going to let some jerks drive me out of my job," Nick explained to her.
"And I'm not going to allow any man to drive away any good that will come out of my daughter's death. But there are two people I'm learning to forgive - Chevarie and myself."
"You?" Nick asked, surprised.
"Yes, because as a parent I wasn't there to protect her. She needed me and I wasn't there. I had to forgive myself for that."
"No way!" Nick shook his head. "You shouldn't be angry with yourself."
Trudi studied him for a second and looked away with tears brimming around her eyes. "You don't have any children, do you Nick?"
"No, I don't." He swallowed and looked down.
"Well, when your child is first born all you want to do is protect them from the evil of this world. Shield them, shelter them, and when harm comes to them the rage you feel toward yourself – words can't describe it. The guilt is relentless and I've had to..." Her voice quivered as she continued on, "I've had to learn to forgive myself for letting her down as a mother; then I had to learn to forgive Chevarie because the pain of not doing so would have imprisoned me along with him, and I didn't want to be imprisoned by the evil he committed on Joanna, myself, or my family."
Finally, she turned her gaze back onto Nick who felt tears swimming in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away as she continued, "The rage toward myself was stronger than the rage I had toward him. That's the worst part of any kind of violence that comes our way…the helplessness that we felt when it happened and that we couldn't help her and couldn't protect her from evil." She cleared her throat and looked away, noticing the Texan's own tears. "Once I began the process of that long journey of forgiveness, the rage started to disappear and now I feel some sense of peace, and with that peace I can continue to move on and be a mother to my remaining children and a wife to my husband who needs me. I had no choice, Nick. I had to forgive or risk being of no good to those who are left around me."
Nick sighed heavily. "You have kids though. They keep you going and keep you motivated." For the first time in his adulthood his mother's nagging about his lack of children started to resonate with him.
"You have yourself, you have friends who need you, and there are always going to be victims of crime who will need you." Trudi laid her hand on his and Nick finally looked at her and the tears dripped out.
"I'm sorry," he laughed and wiped them away. "You made a really good point."
"I'm glad to hear that." Trudi tilted her head and smiled at him sweetly. "I would never try to push my faith on people, but it really helped me, Nick. You're always welcome at our church, any Sunday at 10:00 a.m."
He nodded, thinking he'd burn up as soon as he entered the perimeter of any church, but all he said was, "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
XxXXxx
"So you're leaving Vegas in another week?" Dr. Marsmann said.
"Yeah. I think I'll be okay for a bit without you," Nick said sheepishly. He had shared the details of his suspension, noticing the therapist's eyes rising in amusement but also in speculation.
His appointment came one day after the memorial, and Trudi Barker's speech still played in his mind. He relayed the details of his encounter with the murdered girl's mother and asked Dr. Marsmann what she thought.
"I'm not a particularly religious person, but I think there's definitely merit in learning to 'forgive' as victims. Sometimes I think it is overdone, but on the other hand I believe, Nick, that you have two people to forgive - McVeigh and yourself."
"Me?" Nick asked, confused.
"Yes, you." Dr. Marsmann took a deep breath. "What happened to you on both occasions was beyond your control. That's probably what is at the centre of your rage. Your attack evoked a feeling of helplessness in you. Let's look at your attack objectively. You had no warning and no preparation."
Shaking his head, Nick said, "I've been trained to defend myself…"
"You were sick that day, you were outnumbered, it was dark, and they took your gun," she retorted empathetically.
"I could have grabbed my gun from them…" Nick felt a panicky feeling rise in him.
"There was never a real legitimate explanation as to why it happened, other than revenge against your father."
"He wanted to get back at me for what was done to him in prison."
"And the fact that he got to you again is proof that there is uncertainty that you are safe." Dr. Marsmann was pressing him, not going to give this up.
This was going to be a tough one.
His hands rolled into fists and he said, "That's for sure! I've been held a gunpoint…twice, been thrown out a window, buried alive and then…violated…not once...but twice in my life and almost three times." Nick felt the pit of his stomach begin to boil. "I know for a fact that this world is not safe, at least for not me."
"And with that uncertainty comes fear which leads to rage which is your barrier against fear. You're very, very afraid, Nick."
The dark-haired man folded his arms defiantly as this woman was starting to go places with him that were off limits and his internal guard dog was growling. He stared down at his jeans, noticing a small hole in them, and studied it.
"Look at me." Her voice was firm.
Nick turned his eyes toward the woman as she continued, "I'm hitting a nerve."
"Big time. I could have done something…" he muttered, his voice guttural.
"Does it matter now, Nick?" She was not letting up.
"Yes." His nostrils flared
"Let's look at McVeigh and get to know him a bit. He was a deranged lunatic who had no control over his life and obviously led one that was horrific. Feeling empathy toward him gives some balance to the situation, and in fact let's go so far as to say that feeling empathy toward all those who have attacked you balances the playing field here."
Nick's stance was softening as he swallowed a lump in his throat and finally answered gruffly, "Yeah."
"And forgiving yourself, Nick, is important because if you don't you will let this become part of your identity. It will distort your present and your future. Forgiving Nick Stokes is the first step to forgiving McVeigh and then healing and moving on, because you deserve it. You don't deserve to live this way with rage becoming a driving factor, robbing you of the good you have in your life…your job, your friends, your girlfriend, and your family. You still have a long life ahead of you and a good one if you get a grip on your rage, or else once more you'll be a victim - to yourself."
The office was quiet save for a small fountain as Nick chewed on the words of wisdom before him. He finally looked up at Dr. Marsmann and cleared his throat. "Well, we can't let me be a crime victim to me, can we?" He rubbed his nose and inhaled and continued. "It's hard to forgive someone who robbed you of not only your identity but your masculinity as well. A real man wouldn't let what happened happen."
"Why not?"
"Because that's how it is?"
"That's how society wants it be."
"Yeah, well...society dictates that a real man wouldn't allow himself to be…to..." Nick took deep breaths because this woman had done the unthinkable. She had tapped into the mine of rage and it came blubbering out, "A real man wouldn't let himself get bent over a friggin' table and have...some…lunatic ram it up his…ass...so freakin' hard he was bleeding for days…a real man wouldn't let some SOBs shove a urine-soaked rag into his mouth..a real man wouldn't cry and weep so hard he sounded like a freakin' puppy…a real man wouldn't be...begging and pleading for his life."
Nick stared at the stained-glass picture of a parrot hanging in the window. "A real man would have fought them off, but I was like this…this chipmunk my cat had its mouth. Frozen with fear."
"So are you saying you let it happen, Nick? You willingly allowed yourself to be violated? You woke up one morning and decided to allow yourself to be treated as such?"
He looked back at her, eyebrows knitted. "No."
"Of course not. That's why you need to forgive yourself first and foremost, because the fact of the matter is this was not your fault in any way, shape, or form. Once you come to realize this, you will then forgive yourself, and when you forgive yourself, you'll forgive McVeigh. Then you'll find some semblance of inner peace. It's a long process, but it starts with you saying four words, Nick."
"Yeah, what's that?"
"It wasn't my fault." Dr. Marssman's eyes stared intensely into his as she continued, "Can you say those words, Nick?"
The Texan looked toward the parrot.
"Look at me, Nick."
He looked at her and then down and ran a tongue over his bottom lip, then finally he looked up at her and quietly said, "It wasn't my fault."
Four simple words detonated the barrier of rage, its stone crumbling down within him as he slowly buried his face in his hands and said it again, 'It wasn't my fault." Sobs erupted as the aftershock of the crumbling wall coursed through him as he repeated the mantra, "It wasn't my fault." The words continued to flow out of his mouth, punctuated by sobs as he rocked back and forth and said it again as the sobs spilled forth.
Finally, he gathered his wits about him and sat back up, grateful for the tissue box that she had on a small table next to him. Nick dried his eyes and collected himself.
"You sure know how to bring a man to tears," he joked as Dr. Marsmann smiled at him and said, "You did a great job today, Nick. I guess before you left I thought I'd give you a good push toward this since you won't be back for six weeks." Then she leaned over again. "You have my number though. I'm a phone call away if you need me."
"Yeah, I know," Nick said, feeling exhausted from this most intense therapy session, the most intense he'd ever had. Yet, he a cathartic feeling from having a deep-seated blame hung over his shoulders like a yoke finally lifted off of him, leaving him with sense of freedom.
xxXXxx
"What did you say this show was called?" Nick asked as he laid sideways on the couch with his head in Mandy's lap, relishing in the tingling sensation of her fingers stroking his hair and noting that he would have to tell her she'd found an erogenous zone. George planted himself on his hip and soon Figaro joined him, the two kitties licking each other in mutual bonding.
"Torchwood," she answered as she ran her index finger along the tip of his ear. "About these people who investigate extraterrestrial incidents on earth."
"Oh, a British version of the X-Files?" Nick asked.
"Kind of."
"With the male lead being gay?"
"Uh…I think's he's bi," Mandy answered. "Is that gonna be a problem?"
"Nope," he said. "That comment the lead guy said to the other guy who jumped into the water about enjoying watching a man in tight pants run into water was pretty funny."
"Yeah, Captain Jack..silly boy."
Mandy smiled down at the Texan who looked so darn sweet all snuggled up in her lap with a comforter up to his shoulder. Her heart went out to him today as he walked out of his therapy session, his eyes still red. After they got home, she grilled some salmon steaks with lemon pepper and they enjoyed a quiet meal of Coors, salmon, Caesar salad, and chocolate cake with whipped cream.
Nick looked down at the display of kitty bonding and said, "Would you two get a room?"
The kitties stared at him and then continued with the bonding.
He looked up at Mandy with such an endearing expression that she leaned over and kissed him. He looked peaceful and more content than he had since before they started dating.
"You look like a little boy when you sleep. Did you know that?" she asked, stroking the side of his face.
"Yeah." He turned his head back around and mumbled. "I feel like a 100 year old man right now."
"Well, old man, let's just turn this thing off and head on to bed," Mandy said gently as she flicked off the TV feeling weight lift off her knees as Nick rose to his feet and stretched out before holding his hand out to help her up.
"I'm pretty tucked out," he said. "So let's just hit the sack."
She drew him to her and planted a small kiss on his mouth. "Hey, you looked so tired after your session. I'm glad it helped, and I'm relieved to hear you say those words. I've been…we've all been telling you the same thing for months on end, but I guess you needed to finally say it to yourself."
Nick held her tightly. "I guess I'm pretty stubborn, much to my own demise, but it wasn't just the session. It was talking to Joanna's mother and hearing her tell me about learning to forgive, and this from someone who went through something far worse than I did."
Mandy pulled back and shook her head. "You can't compare crimes, Nick. Yours was every bit as horrific and only by the grace of God you're still here with us."
"I couldn't help but wonder if she was wishing that I was the dead one and her daughter was alive." Nick pressed his lips together. "I would have been fine with that."
"That's not how things work, Nick." Mandy grabbed his hands. "And I'm 100 per cent certain she never thought along those lines. She is just like you…trying to get through the day and then some. Okay?" She cupped his face in her hands and continued, "In all fairness, both you and Joanna should be alive. It should not be one or the other."
Nick gently grasped her hands and nodded. "You're right." Then he took her down the hall. "Let's call it a night, dandy Mandy."
A/N: George with the chipmunk in his mouth-I had to catch the office cat recently and do the same thing.
A/N2: I have to thank the Curate of my church. She gave a great sermon on forgiveness last week and gave me some ideas on how to approach the topic of forgiveness, particularly on the issue of forgiving yourself. I really felt that this where Nick needed to go on his healing.