Author's Note: See, I told you I would keep the story moving. Again, many thanks for all the reviews. I am so glad that you guys are sticking with me during this story, especially since it is kind of depressing and dark. Please don't think that I am trying to expound the virtues of religion onto others in this chapter. I am using it as a means of moving the story forward. It is not an indictment of non-believers, so please don't take offense. As we are all aware, the characters are not mine- but God, how I wish they were.
* * *
If ever there was God
Please, let Him shut my heart
I'm no good no more
All my prayers fall short
I'm not strong enough, I'm not strong enough
* * *
Prayer is all too often the final plea of the non-believers. They do not pray until it suits them. Prayer is not a miracle, nor can it alter the course of fate. It won't alleviate physical suffering and it can't bring the dead back to life. It is often used as a bargaining tool when there is no other alternative. People try to make deals with God – they will do something for Him, if He will do something for them. They don't understand that you can't use prayer as a means of bartering for your soul. You can't make trade-offs in the game of your life. If something is going to happen, it is going to occur because it is destiny, not because you made an empty promise to be a better person. You cannot make deals with God when you deem it necessary. You cannot turn to Him only when you want Him to help you. The non-believer turns to prayer because they have nowhere else to turn. Prayer is their last chance, and if prayer fails, then God has failed. They will go back to their non-believing ways, convinced that there is no greater force out there working for them. This is what prayer is to a non-believer.
To the believer, prayer is an instrument of power. Not the power to change the situation, but rather the power to find peace within said situation. Prayer is a way for the soul to find comfort, even when the body is wracked with turmoil. Believers know that prayer is not a one-time-only sort of thing. They recognize that prayer is not a miracle cure to end the ailments of humanity. It is however a connection, a conduit if you will, to a higher authority. Prayer is not about miracles; it is about understanding. Prayer is not about altering the course of fate; it is about accepting that fate with courage and grace. Prayer is not about alleviating physical suffering; it is about alleviating the suffering of the soul. Prayer is not about bringing the dead back to life; it is about breathing life back into those who are left behind. This is what prayer is to a believer.
Warrick Brown is a believer.
He had discovered the power of prayer after the death of his grandmother and he had learned to use it well. As he sat on the kitchen floor with Nick in his arms however, he encountered the contradiction of prayer that even the believers must face. He found himself making the prayers of the non-believer. It is not so unusual for the believers to feel their faith in prayer waver, just as it is not so unusual for the non-believers to find themselves turning to prayer. When faced with a situation as perilous as this, one can't help but make a plea that things will be alright. Warrick prayed that Nick could hold on to what little life was left in him. He prayed that Nick could hold on until help arrived. He prayed that Nick would know that he was loved by all that knew him. Above all, Warrick prayed that Nick would live. But Warrick knew that prayer couldn't save Nick if Nick wasn't willing to save himself. The tears on Nick's cheeks told Warrick that his friend had given up the fight. Nick believed that all hope was lost. Warrick had to get through to Nick, to make him understand that there was still a reason to live, that there was still hope.
"Nick? Buddy, if you can hear me, you have to wake up. Let us know that you're still here Nick. C'mon man, I know you. You're a fighter and you can't quit know. This is a tough fight, but you're strong. You can win. You can hold on a bit longer, I know you can. You have to fight now Nick." Warrick carried on with dogged determination, despite the lack of response. He had to get through to Nick. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, Nick could still hear him, he knew it.
"Don't let the evil win. Please Nick, let me know that you're still here" Warrick searched Nick's face for any sign of life. Nothing. He was giving up, Warrick knew it. Warrick felt tears well up in his eyes at the realization. He held the lifeless body in his arms and grabbed hold of Nick's cold, limp hand. He tried one more time.
"Nicky, please come back to us. We need you. We need to hear your voice again. We need to see that smile again. We need that optimism of yours. You're the one who gives the rest of us hope when we think that there's none left. You can't leave us, not like this." As he spoke, the tears he'd been holding back began to flow freely down his face. They were losing Nick. Warrick had never felt so helpless. He continued to speak, in final, desperate attempt to reach his friend.
"Nicky, give me a sign. Squeeze my hand, move, do anything. Please! You can't do this to us. We need you here. You have to be okay Nick; you just have to……"
* * *
Grissom watched the scene from his post near the table. He was still training his gun on Rachel, waiting for Brass to retrieve the handcuffs from the car. He could do nothing to help Nick. He could only stand and listen to Warrick's pleas to his friend. The pair of them broke Grissom's heart. Nick looked very young all of a sudden and Warrick seemed to have aged ten years since arriving on the scene. As Nick's face grew more pale, Grissom knew that he was moving ever closer to death. Despite the oppressive heat of the tiny kitchen, Grissom shivered. It looked like evil was going to win after all……
* * *
Nick was aware of a muted sort of noise rolling around in his brain. He wasn't sure where he was anymore. He was looking down a long stretch of nothingness. On one side, there was only darkness. On the other was light. A soft, white light that seemed so very inviting. It was almost within his reach, and he wondered if he was supposed to move into it. Or maybe the light was supposed to come to him. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to proceed; he had never been in a situation like this before. The light was getting brighter. Well, he had a pretty good idea about what that meant. He could tell that his body was giving up the fight. The light would bring him salvation from the pain and suffering. He wouldn't need to face the evils on the world anymore. Yes, the light seemed like the way to go. He was just about ready to let go of everything and move towards the light when something made him pause. Through the fog in his brain he could make out something that he thought was a voice. He stopped moving towards the light and struggled to listen more closely.
It was a voice. Warrick's voice. And it sounded like….well it sounded like he was crying. How odd, Nick thought. That doesn't make any sense. Warrick didn't cry. Warrick was one of the strongest people he knew. So what was it that was causing his friend to get so upset? Nick strained his ears, trying to make out the words.
"You have to be okay Nick, you just have to……" the voice broke off as Warrick broke down. Nick realized that his friend was upset because Nick was giving up the fight. Nick's quitting the fight for his life was what was causing Warrick so much pain. That's why Warrick was crying. He was begging Nick to keep fighting. He wanted him to resist the urge to give into the light.
Nick was torn. The fight was so hard, and the light was so inviting. He knew that whatever lay on the other side would be peaceful and safe. The darkness on the other hand held only uncertainty. Stepping back into the darkness would be stepping back into the unknown, something that Nick wasn't so sure he wanted to do. The darkness was so cold and unfriendly. The darkness held people like Rachel, people with no regard for the sanctity of life. But if he went into the light, then Rachel would fulfill her own demented prophecy. There would be one less dreamer in the world. One less person to face the struggles. Nick knew that despite the struggles of life, there were some very good things in it too. You have to face those struggles head-on because the rewards you will reap will be well worth the pain. Nick wasn't sure what to do. He had been simultaneously blessed and cursed by being presented with the light. Few people ever got to choose which path they would take. Nick didn't know if he could face the darkness anymore; not when he had seen the light. But on the other side of the darkness were the people he cared about, and the people who cared about him in return. People like Warrick who wanted him to live. Nick made a choice. With one last look back at the light, he turned and moved back into the darkness.
* * *
Warrick was sobbing quietly as he held his friend's body in his arms. How could it end like this? Nick was one of the good guys; he wasn't supposed to die as part of some sick, pseudo-sacrificial ritual. Warrick was just thinking about how he was going to have to tell the rest of the team when he felt it. A faint squeeze of his hand. His tears slowed as he looked down at Nick's face. The young man's eyelids fluttered slightly.
"That's it Nicky, open your eyes. I'm here Nick. Come on, look at me buddy." He had been given a faint glimmer of hope and he said a silent thank you as Nick's brown eyes opened.
"Warrick?" The words were barely audible and the very effort of speaking left Nick drained. He forced his eyes to focus on his friend's face. Silvery tears had left tracks running down Warrick's cheeks.
"Don't cry." The words were not much more than a whisper. He couldn't stand to see Warrick looking so sad. Warrick managed a small smile despite his pain. That was so like Nick, always concerned about everyone else. It took every ounce of inner strength that Warrick had to manage that smile, but it seemed important that he convey a sense of comfort to Nick.
"Shhh, Nicky, don't talk. Just stay with me, okay? You're going to be fine Nick. I'm here, Grissom's here, and everyone else is going to be looking forward to seeing you again. Help is on the way; it will be here soon."
Nick nodded absently and tightened his grip on his friend's hand. He had done it. He had beaten the evil. He would survive and be able to…….
Suddenly, without warning, the light returned. It was coming to reclaim him. There was no alternative this time. He wasn't allowed to stay here anymore. Not by choice. His terrified eyes met Warrick's and he managed to articulate his final thoughts as the light began to engulf him.
"Sorry – tried to fight. Be strong for me….I love you all…tell them…please………" his voiced trailed off as he faded into the light. As his mind moved away from the darkness, he heard on final sound…..
"No! Please, God! No!"
And then there was nothing.