It had been almost a week since Nick had arrived at the hospital again. His morphine high was being buzz-killed by cautious doctors who were worried he was becoming dependant…or was that depressed? Nick had become adept at tuning most of what was said out. The whole team had dropped by at one point or another over the last few days, but he wasn't in the mood for conversation, felt groggy and sore. He now knew that he hadn't simply torn a few stitches, he'd well and truly screwed his poor little spleen and was going to be out of commission for closer to months than weeks. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all. He hadn't thought about it, not because he didn't have time on his hands, just because he really didn't want too.

He'd learned that Mikey Campbell would be buried the following weekend and had resolved to attend the service since it was unlikely that his mother would still be a free woman when it all came about. Annabel hadn't contested her guilt, just as she'd indicated she wouldn't, and was due for sentencing in the middle of the week. It was a shame she wouldn't be allowed to say goodbye to her son, but then in the eyes of the law she was little more than a murderer. Jesse had been placed in a group foster home, and was mercifully too young to understand fully what was going on, though he was old enough to cry for his momma. Nick didn't want to think about that either. Mikey Campbell had no one to say goodbye to him, no one to throw dirt onto his unjustly small coffin, or pray that he would find a better place.

Nick didn't care that he wasn't allowed to leave the hospital bed for another two weeks; he wasn't going to let Mikey Campbell take his last journey alone. God knew he'd been alone too much as it was. He'd made the mistake of telling Sara his plan to discharge himself. She'd told him if he did that he could find someone else to help him, because she wouldn't be responsible for him dying. She was being dramatic; at least he hoped she was, since she'd also told him she wouldn't stay with a man who acted with "reckless disregard" for his health. He wasn't sure what he'd do without her, but he knew the fear of losing her wasn't enough to change his mind. They'd argued about it once and it hadn't been mentioned again, though everyday that passed seemed to leave the atmosphere decidedly thicker with the unsaid.

Nick was stirred from a mercifully dream-free nap by footsteps approaching his room. He prised his eyes open, heavy from too much sleep. He was momentarily dizzy; a side effect of his newest concussion, and the room remained blurry until he managed to locate his glasses on the small locker that sat beside his bed. He was almost fully alert when the owner of the footsteps entered his room.

"Hey mom."

His voice was slightly hoarse from having been intubeated during his surgery, but it didn't betray any of the feelings that sat just below the surface, waiting for an excuse to attack. He greeted her as neutrally as he would have commented about the weather.

Jillian walked slowly to the side of his bed, pulling a hard plastic chair closer to him before sitting on it and taking his hand in hers. He loved her too much to hurt her by pulling it away, though right now that was what he wanted to do. She had no right to hold his hand, where the hell had she been for the last 7 days. Ah, its seems the feelings he'd tucked down, were coming to the fore once more. He found himself suddenly angry that she presumed to come visit him when she'd made it clear that she didn't care enough to stay with him after his surgery.

Jillian knew her son well. Not as well as she would have claimed just days ago, but none-the-less, she had raised him for almost 17years before he left for college and had, over time, grow to recognise when he was not amused. His pupils got darker and his nostrils flared just ever so much. She also knew enough to be aware that she should tread carefully. Nick had never been one to get unjustly angry, but he could be bull-headed as the next man at times.

"…Nicky…I…"

"What?"

He knew he was probably being unfair. That she was doing her best to deal with a delicate situation, but he'd believed it when he said it to Warrick. He was easier to be pissed than to be hurting.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you, I had to fly back to Texas with your father. I just got back here this morning."

He felt like a jerk when he saw the tears starting to fall. It was a miracle they were all so well hydrated. All anyone seemed to do anymore was cry. Cry or be angry. There was no perceivable middle ground. Nicks voice softened and he squeezed his mothers hand.

"Don't cry momma."

Jillian sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a hankie, laughing slightly.

"I'm sorry baby. I don't know what's got into me these days."

"…you ok?"

Jillian looked deep into his eyes, trying to keep her composure. Nick held her gaze, silently imploring her to open up to him. She resisted, rambling in surprisingly coherent sentences, but obviously avoiding the question.

"I'm pretty sure I should be asking you that. I talked with your doctor; he says it will be a few more weeks before you can get home, but that you're doing well all things considered. You look much better today, the bruising has faded a little, and you don't seem so pale. Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? Are you in pain?"

She slipped her hand out of his and straightened his bed sheets before smoothing his hair down onto his forehead. She never did like the way it stuck out so unruly after he'd slept. It made him look unkempt. She stopped only when Nick stole her hand back into his.

"Mom… Stop. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I asked your father to move out."

Shit.

Nick didn't know what to say and had now inadvertently taken on the look of a rather vacant goldfish.

"I'm sorry he did what he did Nick. If I'd known I would…"

"…mom, no, please. I don't blame you for anything. What happened wasn't your fault. It wasn't dad's fault either. It just…it just happened. It's ok, I'm ok. This case…it got to me…but it's ok now. Everything's ok."

"How can you say that? He made you live with this for so many years, and I didn't even notice Nick. My baby boy and I didn't notice. I was so caught up with working and trying to keep everything running at home."

Nick struggled to keep up with what was happening. Everything had spiralled out of control. If he'd just been able to keep his emotions in check, if he'd never told Sara, if he'd just fucking cowboy'd the fuck up. Lots of swearing. Swearing was cathartic. He didn't want everything to change. He wanted to have fun with Sara, to have a laugh with Warrick, to meet Grissom's eyes, for Grissom to meet his. It wasn't fair. He'd had enough, and now he was just going to get some more. He wasn't going to be responsible for ruining his parents' marriage. He'd never agree that his father had done the right thing. The guy had been an asshole everyday since, but Nick couldn't help being who he was. He saw things from his fathers point of view, recognised now that his dad, his hero, Cisco…he'd been scared. Fear makes us all a little crazy, and while some mistakes are bigger than others, mistakes happen. It's how we deal with them that counts. Unfortunately it seemed like the Judge was failing on that one too, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get it eventually. Nick was quiet for a long time, lost in his thoughts.

"Mom, you love him."

"I hate him. I do. I hate him with every fibre of my being."

"You don't mean that mom. I don't expect you too. It's done now. I just want it to be over momma."

"I can't be with him while he continues to hurt you. I want things to be right again. I want you to want to see us, to come home to visit. I miss having my son near me."

"I don't want to be around him mom, I can't tell you anything else, I'm sorry. That doesn't mean I don't love you mom. I mean, I love dad too…I just, y'know. He never loved me after what happened. I stopped being Pancho and started being Nicholas, and I guess it just hurts mom. It really does."

Jillian barely stifled a sob and was surprised to hear Nick laughing lightly. She peered at him inquisitively, wanting to know what was so funny about him feeling alienated by his father. He grinned slightly, reaching his hand to rub his stiff neck. Suddenly embarrassed by his frank and open revelations.

"They a…they're making me see a shrink. For work, y'know, they want me to "seek professional help" before they'll allow me to come back. I'm doing a good job…working through my issues, don't you think mom?"

Jillian laughed despite herself. It was true. Nick had never been open with how he was feeling, at least not to the point of vocalising it. She cupped his face, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

"Yes baby, you're doing a wonderful job."

"Things are going to be ok mom. It's going to be fine. With you and dad I mean. It'll all work out."

While Nick truly did hate his father at times, he couldn't hate him entirely. He had after-all done all he could for many years to make his mother happy. He worshipped the ground she walked on, and she loved him back, despite her recent assertions. The last thing Nick wanted to happen was for more misery to come of his abuse. There was too much already.

"I love you Nicky."

"Love you too mom."

The love fest was interrupted when Brass arrived to see how his "favourite nephew" was doing. This amused both Nick and his mother greatly, and lightened the mood considerably. While Jillian excused herself to go check into a hotel, Jim slipped the recently vacated chair next the bed.

"So, nephew…how you feelin'?"

"Like shit…they won't give me anymore drugs."

Nick smirked and Jim glared at him.

"I'm trying to be serious here Nick."

"Yea…I'm trying not to be."

Jim debated for a moment. Took note of the exhaustion painted on Nicks face.

"So…a…when do the hot nurses get here, and who do I talk to about getting' a sponge bath?"

They both laughed. Easy laughter. Sure, it wasn't that funny, but it was funny enough.

"Thanks Jim."

AN: Sorry for the delay. thanks again for the readers and the reviewers...I clicked on that little button that gives me stats. It's crazy, it tells you where the people who are reading come from. I'm kinda curious to know where you all come from now...lol maybe we could have some kind of prize for the furthest away reviewer. I'm in Scotland UK...so yea, beat that! I know my resident grammer police officer comes from USA because they labour under the impression that z's are better than s's...but apart from that, I got no idea where you're all from. So yeah , feel free to enter lol Take it easy, hope you enjoyed, working on a little levity for the next installment. Thanks, Aly