Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter and persuading me not to give
up on my writing. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm sorry it's taken a while to
update I'm revising at the moment for some exams so it's finding the time.
This chapter is Point of Views from three different characters but mostly
Warrick. Hope you enjoy and please R&R as I appreciate them all good or
bad. Chapter 5.
It's hard knowing what to say when there's nothing you can say to express how you truly feel. It's also hard trying to think of specific words to mend a situation that can't be fixed. You can say I'm sorry or I wish this hadn't happened, and you be telling the truth, but sometimes the statements just hold false pretences of what you actually meant to say. I was faced with this dilemma this morning on the way to the hospital with Nick.
I prepare myself every day for cases, the worst possible cases, and in doing so I cope with the horror. But somehow it seems unreal that this has happened to such a gentle and kind young man. Warrick has made mistakes, everyone has, but he doesn't deserve this. And whilst Nick, after a hard night shift, facing away, leaning against the window steaming it up with his heavy breathing, slept peacefully, I was trying to figure out what to say. I'm the leader of the group who's always meant to know what to say but what can you say? Nothing I say is going to make Warrick feel better about how this situation has worked out, neither is it going to erase the period of time that he'd like to get rid of from his life.
I tried calling his mother this morning. I thought she had a right to know. I went to the staff records and found the number and reluctantly and hesitantly I dialled the unfamiliar number. I said hello and asked if this was Mrs. Brown. I was shocked with the reply. I was shocked because I realised the Warrick's mother had been dead for a couple of months and he hadn't told any of us.
Suddenly, the jigsaw finally came together. The day off Warrick had taken a while back; it had been his mother's funeral. This fact disturbed me. Warrick hadn't wanted any of us to know. He either hadn't trusted us or didn't want to burden us. Either way he'd dealt with it all on his own and he had no plans of telling the team, when maybe we could've eased the pain.
I realised how self-absorbed I am. I hadn't even noticed at the time that Warrick had seemed down. I simply assumed that is was down to the fact it was the anniversary of holly's death, and if that was the case those were Warrick's demons to work through. No one can help you when the only person who can make it better is yourself. After a week or so he'd returned to normal, and I thought nothing of it. How could I have missed something so blatant? Why didn't I think to ask at the time? I'm meant to be his boss, and more importantly his friend and I let him deal with everything on his own. How am I meant to bring this up when I get to the hospital? Anyway I say it it's going to sound like I've been snooping. Well I'm just going to have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
He thinks I'm asleep. I've been staring out of the window pretending to do so for the past half an hour. I've got too many thoughts buzzing around in my head to talk. Grissom found out something this morning. I can tell. Grissom's like an open book, when something's puzzling him it shows. I can see the way his eyebrows knot together and the way his hand reaches to his forehead to try and relieve some tension. I know Grissom was calling Warrick's mother this morning. I wonder what he found out. Maybe she told him that this has happened before. If so then I'm off the hook.
I've dealt with a lot in my life but it hurts me even more to think that someone would do what they did to Warrick just because of the colour of his skin. Just because he may look different doesn't mean he is. He's an equal and it's sickening to think of the judgemental racists who think otherwise.
I was beaten up in college once. I remember the guy shouting my name down the alleyway as I ran away from him. 'Nick,' he yelled over an over again. I was petrified and there was only one of him. I can't begin to imagine how Warrick felt that night. In my view wounds heal a lot quicker when you're younger because you can always say it wasn't your fault. What happened when I was nine was unfortunate, maybe even tragic, definitely sick, but it wasn't my fault and when I think of that time in college when that guy beat me to a pulp I know it was my fault.
When you're young and innocent things can be let go, people forgive you for your actions because your small and you don't know what you're doing, but when you're older the consequences of your actions catch up with you. Warrick hadn't even done anything to provoke them. And they just took it into their own hands to make sure they made his life hell. I'm determined to get them, No one does that and gets away with it.
I'm still curious about Grissom though. What did he find out this morning that's puzzled him so much? I guess I'll find out at the hospital.
They're coming in any minute. I don't know if I can face Grissom and Nick asking me questions just yet. Nick knows about my past, Grissom probably does by now, but somehow that doesn't make the past or indeed the present any easier to talk about. I feel numb at the moment. Why can't I just let this go? Why? Because if I let it go some other person who's 'different' to these Neanderthal racists may not be as lucky as me.
Lucky, not exactly a term I'd use, I'm alive. Maybe it would have been better if I'd died. I could be with mom again. I had a week or so after mom died and it was my funeral. Nick was standing giving the eulogy and I even remember what he was saying.
" There haven't been many people in my life who I have trusted and loved with all of my heart and soul. But today from the bottom of my broken heart, I'm here to say goodbye to one of them. Warrick understood me more than most people. Very few people in my life have understood me and even fewer have accepted me for the way I am. But you did. So I guess what I'm trying to say man, is that I miss you."
I'd woken up crying that morning. It had felt so real. And now I was in hospital kind of wishing that it was real because then at least I wouldn't have to deal with this overwhelming feeling of helplessness and uselessness.
I keep focusing on the door waiting for their painted on counterfeit smiles to peek around the door. However, Nick looks around with a worried expression on his face that is only beaten by Grissom's puzzled look. Grissom knows, it's easy enough to see that. But there's something else hiding behind his blue eyes, a burning question to ask me that I fear. My hands shake of their own accord and they become clammy and hot. I wipe them on the white bed sheets, so as not to give away my anxiety.
Grissom sits down in the chair nearest to me and before I can even say hello he voices his burning question.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I feel like my heart just felt from my chest and down into the pit of my stomach. I don't know how he knows about mom but he does. I can tell. But I have to bluff it.
"Well, I thought I'd just say it was a normal attack I didn't want history to be repeating itself."
"Not that. You know what I'm talking about Warrick."
"Sorry." I try to mask my heartache with confusion and as I do this Nick turns to Grissom with the reflection of my mask on his own face.
"Grissom what are you going on about?" Nick voices his obvious bewilderment and hopes for an answer.
"Why didn't you tell me Warrick? I'm your friend aren't I? I could have helped you I've been there. I didn't even think of it at the time. I just thought you were upset because it was the anniversary of Holly's death and I let it go. The day of you took, I thought it was strange but I thought maybe just maybe, you were going to visit Holly's grave so I left you to your own devices. Why didn't you tell me where you were going? I would have come, given you some moral support."
By now I was nearly crying. The tears had welled up in my eyes and Nick and Grissom were just colourful blurs of emotion.
"Why should I have told you Grissom? Would you have cared? No one else did. Do you know how many people were at her funeral? 3. My mother was a saint, someone who would do anything for anybody and no one had the time of day of presence of mind to show their respect for her. She was the only person in the world who has ever given a damn about me and stuck up for me and now your asking me why I didn't tell you she'd died? How dare you Grissom?"
"Calm down Warrick. There's no need to shout."
"There's every right to shout! Do you know how numb I've felt for the past few months. I've felt empty, hollow inside. When she died part of me went with her because she was all I ever had. No one in this whole damn world will ever replace or measure up to her in my eyes. You didn't even ask me at the time. If you thought something was wrong how come you didn't ask me then instead of waiting for me to end up in a state like this and then confronting me about it?"
Nick sat silently, his bewilderment having disappeared and now his embarrassment showing as he, the same as Grissom hadn't noticed how I'd felt back then. I forgave Nick back then. It was just after Nigel had been around and he had enough to deal with but Grissom just decided to leave me to my own devices and now he comes and asks me how I am? It's just not right and it sure as hell isn't fair.
I took a deep breath and suddenly my pent up emotions, all the bad feeling I'd kept inside came out in a string of sentences. "When this happened before, when I was younger she was the one who helped me face up to my fears. She was the one who made all the bad things go away. She defended me so that I didn't have to feel bad just because of who or what I was. And now the one person who I want to be here isn't and never will be because she's gone. Probably from all the stress I gave her and I'll never have the chance to say how miss I miss her and love her. I never even got to say goodbye Grissom."
That was it. The floodgates just opened. And no matter how much I wanted to remain strong in front of my two colleagues and friends I let go. I wanted to stay angry at Grissom for not noticing my pain but instead I let him comfort me and hold me in his arms. He somehow felt like a father figure, he had done for a long time, but I was just so angry at him.
I answered all the questions that I knew had to be asked and I talked about my past with Grissom. He wasn't shocked and he didn't say those meaningless phrases of I'm sorry or I wish this hadn't happened. He didn't try telling me that everything would be alright, that he could help me fix what was broken. Instead he just said what he felt. And that means so much more. I know it was hard for him deciding what to say but instead of giving me the spiel he told me what he felt. And I respect him for that.
Nick's cell rang but neither me or Grissom heard it, too engrossed in our conversation. Nick went outside the room to answer it and when he came back he looked white as a sheet. Replacing his cell in his pocket he looked at me. "Warrick the night of the attack. did they get your wallet?"
"I don't know. you'll have to check with the hospital. Why?"
"There's been a break in at your house. The place has been trashed."
I felt breathless and sick simultaneously. Their after me . Why?
It's hard knowing what to say when there's nothing you can say to express how you truly feel. It's also hard trying to think of specific words to mend a situation that can't be fixed. You can say I'm sorry or I wish this hadn't happened, and you be telling the truth, but sometimes the statements just hold false pretences of what you actually meant to say. I was faced with this dilemma this morning on the way to the hospital with Nick.
I prepare myself every day for cases, the worst possible cases, and in doing so I cope with the horror. But somehow it seems unreal that this has happened to such a gentle and kind young man. Warrick has made mistakes, everyone has, but he doesn't deserve this. And whilst Nick, after a hard night shift, facing away, leaning against the window steaming it up with his heavy breathing, slept peacefully, I was trying to figure out what to say. I'm the leader of the group who's always meant to know what to say but what can you say? Nothing I say is going to make Warrick feel better about how this situation has worked out, neither is it going to erase the period of time that he'd like to get rid of from his life.
I tried calling his mother this morning. I thought she had a right to know. I went to the staff records and found the number and reluctantly and hesitantly I dialled the unfamiliar number. I said hello and asked if this was Mrs. Brown. I was shocked with the reply. I was shocked because I realised the Warrick's mother had been dead for a couple of months and he hadn't told any of us.
Suddenly, the jigsaw finally came together. The day off Warrick had taken a while back; it had been his mother's funeral. This fact disturbed me. Warrick hadn't wanted any of us to know. He either hadn't trusted us or didn't want to burden us. Either way he'd dealt with it all on his own and he had no plans of telling the team, when maybe we could've eased the pain.
I realised how self-absorbed I am. I hadn't even noticed at the time that Warrick had seemed down. I simply assumed that is was down to the fact it was the anniversary of holly's death, and if that was the case those were Warrick's demons to work through. No one can help you when the only person who can make it better is yourself. After a week or so he'd returned to normal, and I thought nothing of it. How could I have missed something so blatant? Why didn't I think to ask at the time? I'm meant to be his boss, and more importantly his friend and I let him deal with everything on his own. How am I meant to bring this up when I get to the hospital? Anyway I say it it's going to sound like I've been snooping. Well I'm just going to have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
He thinks I'm asleep. I've been staring out of the window pretending to do so for the past half an hour. I've got too many thoughts buzzing around in my head to talk. Grissom found out something this morning. I can tell. Grissom's like an open book, when something's puzzling him it shows. I can see the way his eyebrows knot together and the way his hand reaches to his forehead to try and relieve some tension. I know Grissom was calling Warrick's mother this morning. I wonder what he found out. Maybe she told him that this has happened before. If so then I'm off the hook.
I've dealt with a lot in my life but it hurts me even more to think that someone would do what they did to Warrick just because of the colour of his skin. Just because he may look different doesn't mean he is. He's an equal and it's sickening to think of the judgemental racists who think otherwise.
I was beaten up in college once. I remember the guy shouting my name down the alleyway as I ran away from him. 'Nick,' he yelled over an over again. I was petrified and there was only one of him. I can't begin to imagine how Warrick felt that night. In my view wounds heal a lot quicker when you're younger because you can always say it wasn't your fault. What happened when I was nine was unfortunate, maybe even tragic, definitely sick, but it wasn't my fault and when I think of that time in college when that guy beat me to a pulp I know it was my fault.
When you're young and innocent things can be let go, people forgive you for your actions because your small and you don't know what you're doing, but when you're older the consequences of your actions catch up with you. Warrick hadn't even done anything to provoke them. And they just took it into their own hands to make sure they made his life hell. I'm determined to get them, No one does that and gets away with it.
I'm still curious about Grissom though. What did he find out this morning that's puzzled him so much? I guess I'll find out at the hospital.
They're coming in any minute. I don't know if I can face Grissom and Nick asking me questions just yet. Nick knows about my past, Grissom probably does by now, but somehow that doesn't make the past or indeed the present any easier to talk about. I feel numb at the moment. Why can't I just let this go? Why? Because if I let it go some other person who's 'different' to these Neanderthal racists may not be as lucky as me.
Lucky, not exactly a term I'd use, I'm alive. Maybe it would have been better if I'd died. I could be with mom again. I had a week or so after mom died and it was my funeral. Nick was standing giving the eulogy and I even remember what he was saying.
" There haven't been many people in my life who I have trusted and loved with all of my heart and soul. But today from the bottom of my broken heart, I'm here to say goodbye to one of them. Warrick understood me more than most people. Very few people in my life have understood me and even fewer have accepted me for the way I am. But you did. So I guess what I'm trying to say man, is that I miss you."
I'd woken up crying that morning. It had felt so real. And now I was in hospital kind of wishing that it was real because then at least I wouldn't have to deal with this overwhelming feeling of helplessness and uselessness.
I keep focusing on the door waiting for their painted on counterfeit smiles to peek around the door. However, Nick looks around with a worried expression on his face that is only beaten by Grissom's puzzled look. Grissom knows, it's easy enough to see that. But there's something else hiding behind his blue eyes, a burning question to ask me that I fear. My hands shake of their own accord and they become clammy and hot. I wipe them on the white bed sheets, so as not to give away my anxiety.
Grissom sits down in the chair nearest to me and before I can even say hello he voices his burning question.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I feel like my heart just felt from my chest and down into the pit of my stomach. I don't know how he knows about mom but he does. I can tell. But I have to bluff it.
"Well, I thought I'd just say it was a normal attack I didn't want history to be repeating itself."
"Not that. You know what I'm talking about Warrick."
"Sorry." I try to mask my heartache with confusion and as I do this Nick turns to Grissom with the reflection of my mask on his own face.
"Grissom what are you going on about?" Nick voices his obvious bewilderment and hopes for an answer.
"Why didn't you tell me Warrick? I'm your friend aren't I? I could have helped you I've been there. I didn't even think of it at the time. I just thought you were upset because it was the anniversary of Holly's death and I let it go. The day of you took, I thought it was strange but I thought maybe just maybe, you were going to visit Holly's grave so I left you to your own devices. Why didn't you tell me where you were going? I would have come, given you some moral support."
By now I was nearly crying. The tears had welled up in my eyes and Nick and Grissom were just colourful blurs of emotion.
"Why should I have told you Grissom? Would you have cared? No one else did. Do you know how many people were at her funeral? 3. My mother was a saint, someone who would do anything for anybody and no one had the time of day of presence of mind to show their respect for her. She was the only person in the world who has ever given a damn about me and stuck up for me and now your asking me why I didn't tell you she'd died? How dare you Grissom?"
"Calm down Warrick. There's no need to shout."
"There's every right to shout! Do you know how numb I've felt for the past few months. I've felt empty, hollow inside. When she died part of me went with her because she was all I ever had. No one in this whole damn world will ever replace or measure up to her in my eyes. You didn't even ask me at the time. If you thought something was wrong how come you didn't ask me then instead of waiting for me to end up in a state like this and then confronting me about it?"
Nick sat silently, his bewilderment having disappeared and now his embarrassment showing as he, the same as Grissom hadn't noticed how I'd felt back then. I forgave Nick back then. It was just after Nigel had been around and he had enough to deal with but Grissom just decided to leave me to my own devices and now he comes and asks me how I am? It's just not right and it sure as hell isn't fair.
I took a deep breath and suddenly my pent up emotions, all the bad feeling I'd kept inside came out in a string of sentences. "When this happened before, when I was younger she was the one who helped me face up to my fears. She was the one who made all the bad things go away. She defended me so that I didn't have to feel bad just because of who or what I was. And now the one person who I want to be here isn't and never will be because she's gone. Probably from all the stress I gave her and I'll never have the chance to say how miss I miss her and love her. I never even got to say goodbye Grissom."
That was it. The floodgates just opened. And no matter how much I wanted to remain strong in front of my two colleagues and friends I let go. I wanted to stay angry at Grissom for not noticing my pain but instead I let him comfort me and hold me in his arms. He somehow felt like a father figure, he had done for a long time, but I was just so angry at him.
I answered all the questions that I knew had to be asked and I talked about my past with Grissom. He wasn't shocked and he didn't say those meaningless phrases of I'm sorry or I wish this hadn't happened. He didn't try telling me that everything would be alright, that he could help me fix what was broken. Instead he just said what he felt. And that means so much more. I know it was hard for him deciding what to say but instead of giving me the spiel he told me what he felt. And I respect him for that.
Nick's cell rang but neither me or Grissom heard it, too engrossed in our conversation. Nick went outside the room to answer it and when he came back he looked white as a sheet. Replacing his cell in his pocket he looked at me. "Warrick the night of the attack. did they get your wallet?"
"I don't know. you'll have to check with the hospital. Why?"
"There's been a break in at your house. The place has been trashed."
I felt breathless and sick simultaneously. Their after me . Why?