OK, so this has been a work in progress for a very, VERY long time! I'm once again sorry for the delay. I'm hoping to get back to updating on a regular basis Crosses fingers and toes Thanks so much for the reviews, and to those that sent me PMs asking when I was updating, proving that you guys hadn't forgotten about my story. :) Thanks so much for that, and all the well wishes, hoping that I'm feeling better. Your support means so much to me. :)
I disclaim . . .
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Sara was drawn out of her sleep by the sound of an electric drill down the hall. Her tired eyes were assaulted by the sunlight filtering into the bedroom through the blinds. Blinking a few times, adjusting her sensitive eyes, she glanced at the clock. "7:48," she sighed. She rolled over on to her side, then used her hands to push herself into an upright position. Placing her feet on the hardwood floors, she propelled herself upwards and sleepily made her way out of the master bedroom and down the hall towards the noise.
"Morning," she yawned, stretching her back a bit. Nick looked up at her, clearly startled by her sudden presense, but the smile took over his face.
"Morning sleepy head," he greeted, standing up and placing a kiss on her lips, then bending down and rubbing her belly, placing a kiss above her belly button.
"You've got primer in your hair," she commented quietly, picking at the white specs in his brown hair.
"The window in the nursery is open, so the fumes shouldn't be too bad," he told her, avoiding to look in her eyes. He turned back to the changing table that he was putting together.
"I could've helped with that, you know," she said quietly, easing herself down into the maple rocking chair, pointing to the now put together crib, dresser, and changing table.
"It's not difficult," he told her quickly, wanting to put an end to the conversation that he knew she was trying to start.
"That's not the point," she told him directly.
He sighed, dropping the electric drill onto the cardboard box that had housed the separate pieces for the change table. "It's not a big deal, Sara. It's done."
He walked through the opened door and into the hallway. He turned the knob of the nursery, stepping inside and letting his finger tips brush against the surface, checking to see if wall was dry.
"What do you mean it's not a big deal?" she said, standing up and following him into the nursery. She stopped dead in her tracks. The room already painted in a coat of the soft yellow that they'd agreed on. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
Nick's head snapped towards Sara, the anger in his eyes flashing. "What? I put together the furniture and primed and started to paint in here, and there isn't even so much as a 'thank you'?"
Her shoulders slumped, and tears filled her eyes. "That doesn't answer my question, Nicholas."
"Nicholas?" he repeated. "Since when do you call me Nicholas? Only my parents ever called me Nicholas, and that was only when I was in trouble!" His voice was steadily climbing in volume.
"You ARE in trouble!" she matched his tone, her own voice rising. "You aren't sleeping. It's not good for you."
"Well, you know what, Sara? Things HAVE to get done around here before the baby comes!"
She gasped. The tone of his voice was almost resentful. "Are you upset that I'm pregnant?" she asked him, her posture stiffening.
He looked at her in shock for a moment, realizing how his statement must've sounded. He tone softened. "No. I'm not. I love you and I love our baby, Sara. But things are happening so fast. Everything is changing and there isn't any time!"
She heard the panic in his voice. She stepped forward and gently cupped his face in the palms of her hands. "We have time, Nick. The baby isn't due for a few months. We'll figure it all out by then, OK?"
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
"Nick, we need to talk about this," she told him gently as she dropped her hands from his face, one of her hands finding his. She gently lead them out of the nursery and into the hallway.
He knew what they needed to talk about. He knew he couldn't avoid it forever, but he'd tried. "I can't," he whispered, unable to look her in the eye.
"Why, Nick?" she asked him, just as softly, and not judging him.
"Because I don't want to remember. Because I don't want to tell you. Just . . . because."
Her head dipped down lower so she could look him in the eye. "I want to help you."
"You can't."
"Can I at least try?" she pleaded. "I miss you Nick. When you were gone, all I wanted was for you to come back. And I'm beyond thrilled that you are here. Physically, you're fine. But emotionally? I don't know. We aren't connecting like we used to. I need you to trust me."
Deep down, he knew she was right. "I miss you, too," he admitted softly, a few tears escaping his lids as she pulled him closer to her. "Everything has changed, Sara. It's not what it used to be. We aren't what we used to be."
"Things happen and people change," she said, still holding him in her arms, rocking back and forth. "It doesn't mean that we have to grow apart."
"I don't know what to do to get back to where we were."
"Talk to me," she suggested, slightly pulling back and wiping the stray tears away from his eyes. "Let me in."
"I already told you," he sighed, pulling out of her embrace, the wall building back up. "I can't."
"You're not sleeping," she informed him after a few minutes of silence. "I know you're throwing yourself into these projects so you don't have to sleep. So you don't have to dream about it. I get it. But not dealing with it isn't going to do you any favors. You're exhausted. And you're going to end up hurting yourself."
"Or you and the baby," his voice was cold, but not loud. Almost a harsh whisper. And it was a statement. A matter of fact. Nothing accusatory about it.
She looked down at her hands which had wound themselves together in a tight nervous ball. She forced her hands apart, her left hand reaching over into his lap and taking his right hand. She looked at him for a moment, not saying anything. But when he looked up at her, he knew that she loved him. It was in her eyes. "Maybe," she shrugged. "But I don't believe that you would hurt either of us purposefully. But right now, you're lack of sleep and avoiding the issue is hurting you. And that hurts me. And that hurts us, as a couple and as a soon to be family," she placed his hand on her stomach, smiling slightly when she could see a sparkle in Nick's eye as he felt his son or daughter moving around.
"Active this morning, huh?" he smirked.
She nodded. "Hungry," she stated. "Wants a tomato omlette. What about Daddy?"
"An omlette sounds good," he assured her.
"Good. Why don't you jump in the shower and by the time your done, the omlette's will be ready?"
He nodded his head, then leaned in to give her a soft kiss.
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They sat in silence, eating their omlettes. She tried to pretend that she was reading the Entertainment section of the newspaper, but knew she'd be horribly busted if he asked what was going on in the world of Television, movies, or celebrity life in general. She was skimming the pages, more so to make it appear as though she were actually interested. But rather than actually reading the words, she kept glancing at Nick out of the corner of her eye.
"What're you looking at, Sidle?" he asked not even glancing up to look at her. But the tone of his voice conveyed that he was amused.
"You," she answered, smiling. She closed the entertainment section, then folded it up and placed it in the center of the table. "Thinking about how gorgeous you are. How lucky I am."
He smiled at her, then glanced down at the table, blushing slightly. "It's the other way around. I'm the lucky one. Not many women could be, or would be, as understanding as you are."
"Can I get that in writing?" she joked as she stood up.
He grabbed her hand in mid air, preventing her from picking up any of the dishes that they were finished with. "C'mere," he instructed softly as he pulled her onto his lap. Placing his arms around her waist, hugging her, he rested his head against her shoulder, sighing. "I should've told you this sooner. You deserve to know." He looked up at her curious eyes. "Last night, when I was out front saying goodnight to Greg and Grissom, I pulled Gris aside for a second. I wanted to talk to him about going back to work.
"Are you sure you're ready?" she asked him softly.
He sighed.
Flashback
Nick looked at the passenger side of Grissom's Department issued Denali. The windows were up, and the vehicle was running with the A/C blasting into the vehicle at maximum compacity. The rock music was turned up and aside from being able to hear some of the beats, and make out some of the lyrics, he was convinced Greg couldn't hear them because the rear-view and side-view mirrors were rattling.
"What did you want to talk about?" Grissom asked, as usual, all business. He liked to get straight to the point.
"I want to come back to work."
Grissom's mouth fell open in shock. "Nick, I -"
"I need too," he said, his voice pleading.
"I understand the need to stay busy," he acknowledged, "but it's too soon."
"No, it's not," Nick assured him. "I've thought about it a lot. Do you remember when I told you why I wanted to become a CSI?" Grissom nodded his head. "I wanted to pack heat, be the man. To make you think that I'm good at what I do -"
"And you are," he assured the man in front of him.
"I know," he smiled. "And I don't need your approval, anymore. Because I have my own. But since then, I've re-evaluated why I'm a CSI. I want to make the streets safer for the average person. I want kids to feel safe walking to school. I want to give families closure so they don't have questions hanging over their heads as to where their loved ones are, or why they died. It's not always easy knowing the answer, but at least they can move on and not constantly be wondering." He glanced back at the Denali and saw that Greg was now chatting on his cell phone, not paying attention to them. He then glanced at the door to make sure they weren't being watched, or could be over-heard. He looked Grissom square in the eye. "What happened to me shouldn't have happened. It was wrong. And it would be so easy to just curl up into a ball and not face it. Gris, I've thought about packing my bags and leaving for good."
"What about Sara and the baby?"
"They are the reason why I haven't left. Sometimes I think that Sara would be better off raising our child alone because I feel incapable of taking care of myself, let alone someone else. But I love Sara more than I love my own life. And our baby . . . is our baby. I've always wanted to be a father, and I can't imagine a better mother for my children than her. I want to experience that with her. But more than that, I want to make sure that creeps out there, who wander the streets won't be able to hurt my child. If I leave, how can I protect them?"
Grissom could read between the lines. Nick was in a catch 22. He wanted to leave so he could just create a new life and not face or deal with the pain that haunts him from his past. But his future included a loving partner and a child that he'd always dreamed of. How could he desert that?
He nodded his head. "I look forward to the day when you start back up on the team again Nick. You're irreplaceable. Both you and Sara will have your spots with us just as soon as you two are ready."
"Sara isn't ready," he said quickly. "I don't want her to jeopardize her health or the babys health. And I don't think she wants to come back until after the baby is born anyway."
"I understand," Grissom said. "And I agree. Like you, I don't think she should come back. But I don't think you're ready to come back, either." He knew that Nick was about to fight him. "And besides that, the department requires you to go to counseling. After that, the counsellor will have to give you clearance to go back into the field. I can't just reinstate you, Nick. But I'm more than willing to help the process along. I'll get you all the information that you need, help you decided on a counsellor. But I'm not the one who has the final decision on this."
Nick sighed, looking down and kicking at the paved driveway.
"And you're going to have to talk to Sara about this," he said evenly. He looked over at Nick. "You haven't, have you?"
End flashback
"So," she said quietly, still sitting on his lap, "why didn't you tell me you wanted to go back?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess maybe I thought that you would try and talk me out of it."
"And why is that?" she asked him, once again very quietly.
"I know you've been trying to get me to talk about what happened for a while now, and I know I kept shutting you out. And that I still am. And because of that, you'd probably think that I'm not ready to go back."
"You're right," she acknowledged. "I don't think you're ready. Not yet, anyway." She played with a lock of his brown hair. "What do you want to do?"
"What do you think I should do?" he countered.
She shook her head. "This is about you, Nick. And how you need to deal with this." She knew her words disappointed him. "You're not doing yourself any favors by keeping it bottled up."
He nodded his head slightly. "OK. I'll give it a try."
"You'll go to counselling?" she asked him hopefully, a smile tugging at her lips.
He nodded his head apprehensively at first, then more and more as the decision agreed with him. "Yeah. I'll go."
She smiled broadly as she leaned in and hugged him tightly. "I'll be with you every step of the way. Whatever you need, just tell me, OK?"
He nodded his head in appreciation before lifting his chin and puckering his lips to kiss her sweetly.
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Nick reached his hand out and shook the counsellors hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"I was glad to do it," Dr. Drake insisted, smiling politely. "I have immense respect for law enforcement and knowing what you've been through, I'm honored that you chose me to help you through it."
Nick nodded his head, though his teeth ground together. "You know what I've been through?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words, though the doctor didn't seem to pick up on it.
"Oh yes," he nodded his head enthusiastically and then began to explain how he, and the rest of Las Vegas, knew of what had happened because of media coverage. How they were all so terribly upset when he was believed to be dead, and how everyone was joyful when they learned he was alive and well.
"A case like yours is very unique. It presents interesting challenges, but a person of your character should be able to over come and triumph above it. I feel confident, that with my help, you will succeed in your quest."
Nick nodded his head and smiled politely. The man was obviously in this for his own reasons, intent on using Nick's case as a way to move his way up in the counselling world, to gain notoriety. He wasn't actually interested in helping. He was only in this for his own selfish reasons. How could he stick with it and stay with the guy until the department deemed him able to go back to work? It could take months, and Nick already wanted to take the guy out back and give him a Texas sized ass-whoppin'.
"So I understand that the decision to attend counselling was a difficult one?"
Nick nodded his head tensely.
"What was the motivating factor to take the leap of faith?"
"I want to go back to work. And I'm doing it for my family," he answered, not wanting to get into this with a man he already hated. With a man who he felt viewed him as a science experiment. "I'm doing this for Sara," he told the man honestly. And he kept repeating it in his head as a way to affirm that he needed to stick with it. She needed to know that he was getting help. She needed to feel that their lives would gain some normalcy again. She needed to feel safe . . . 'I'm doing this for Sara, I'm doing this for Sara, I'm doing this for Sara . . .' he chanted in his mind, over and over again . . .
TBC . . .
A/N -- TWO WEEKS TO THE PREMIERE!! squeals in delight