JEN
Nick enjoyed the comfortable weight of Marty in his lap. Pete's letter had drifted to the floor in front of the loveseat, but the words his friend had written kept scrolling through Nick's head. It was Marty who finally broke the silence, shifting slightly sideways into Nick, wrapping her arms around his neck and kneading her fingers across the tight muscles.!!
"He was right, you know."
Nick let his head drop forward onto her shoulder to give her hands better access and sighed, "Right about what?"
"I was in love with you."
Nick sighed again, and nuzzled his face into the hollow of her neck, kissing the collarbone gently and smiling when he caught a whiff of his soap on her skin. "I was in love with you too."
Silence for a few moments. Marty's fingers had drifted down his shoulders, and were now massaging his forearms. "I still love you."
"I still love you too." His words, though quiet, were heartfelt. "I didn't think I would ever be able to say that to you. That's why I avoided you, back in Texas - why I never went to visit you if Pete wasn't home. Why I didn't talk to you after you left him."
"You were being loyal to your best friend," Marty's voice was matter of fact. "I understand, Nick. I'm just glad -" she paused, and her glance drifted down to the letter, "I'm glad I went to see him at the prison when he called and asked me to. That was the first time I'd been - I hadn't seen him since the divorce."
"I wish he had called me. I would have gone."
"It was better this way. He knew I would look for you. If you had gone to see him, there would have been no need for him to send me to you."
"I've felt so guilty, Marty. You can never know - when I found out he was dead - I was so angry at him; at you - at myself. I thought I was going to self-destruct. And then that case we just finished - it was like the poisonous icing on the proverbial cake."
Marty was listening intently, "I caught some weird vibes from your father when he mentioned it at dinner tonight. Want to tell me what that was all about?"
Nick sighed, "He was concerned with how the case would affect me, especially considering there was a babysitter involved." Pause. "This isn't something I've ever really talked about, Marty. Dad - he came to Vegas to apologize to me."
He grinned when he said this, his smile wide. "He wants a relationship with me, and he wanted to explain why he hasn't been there for me in the past. You know how rocky our relationship has always been."
Marty nodded, letting her hands drift back up to his shoulders, before she settled her head against his chest again. "I never understood why he was so hard on you."
"I think he was being harder on himself, actually. Now that I know what was going on; how he was thinking. He was trying to cut himself off from something that happened to me because it hurt him too much, and he ended up cutting himself off from me."
"What was it?" Marty's voice was gentle. She could feel Nick's sigh across the top of her head, and she added softly, "You can tell me anything, Nick. No matter what. Nothing will make me stop loving you."
"I know." Nick whispered, "Let me tell you everything that's happened lately, and you'll understand why it all fits together."
* * * * *
Nick was in that hazy dream-world between full alertness and sleep, Marty curled into his side. Her skin was so soft, Nick almost couldn't believe it belonged to a real person. It was early, early morning. Judging from the lack of sound outside on the street, Nick judged it to be sometime between 1:00 and 3:30 am. He didn't ever remember being happier.
He had told Marty everything - about the case with Nick Steeply, the anger he had felt - the harsh words he had thrown at Jen Letch, the babysitter. He explained his unremitting anger at everyone the last few days; how the shock of seeing his father standing in the lab had made him want to punch something. And then he had told her about the time he was nine, when he had been a little boy needing his father, and how his father had told him to never tell anyone what had happened.
The words had been strangely liberating. He had cried, of course. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately - but this time, Marty had been there crying with him, and every tear she cried had taken away more and more of his anger and his pain, until all that was left was peace. Nick felt like things were going to be better.
When he was finished telling her all he could, she hadn't asked him questions. She hadn't looked at him with pity. Instead, she had slid to her feet and taken his hand, and led him to his bedroom. Slowly, she had undressed him. Her fingers had slid gently over his chest; his arms. She had touched every inch of him, murmuring his name as she kissed him. Making love with her had been like starting over - her gentle touch, the hot grip of her body around his had been a benediction.
When it was over, she had wrapped herself around him, head burrowing into his chest and her gentle weight sinking them both deeper into his bed. "I love you Nick," she had whispered, "I'll love you forever."
Smiling to himself, it took a few seconds for him to realize the phone was ringing. Groaning, he looked at his alarm clock before sleepily reaching over Marty and grabbing the receiver.
"Hello?"
Dead silence. Beside him, Marty stirred and rolled over to look at him.
"Hello? Is there someone there?"
"Hello. Is this Mr. Stokes?" The voice was thin and quiet. Nick recognized it immediately.
"Is that you Jen?"
"Yes." Silence. Nick looked at Marty and tried to smile, but he was suddenly worried.
"Jen, are you still there?" He heard the sound of her breathing and a wet sniffle, and he gripped the phone tighter in his hands. "Where are you, Jen? Are you at home?"
"I'm sorry."
Nick tried to tamp down on his growing panic, trying to remain calm as he quickly stood and walked to his dresser, grabbing some underwear and a t-shirt.
"I told you it wasn't your fault, Jen - remember?" Grabbing a pen, he scrawled Grissom's name and cell number, along with the name Jen Letch, and handed it to Marty. *Call him,* he mouthed.
Marty had no idea what was going on, but she quickly did as Nick asked.
"Where are you Jen? Is your dad there?" He heard the muted tones of Marty's voice as she got through to Grissom, and he reached for the cell phone. Holding it to his ear without saying anything to Grissom, he continued talking to Jen.
"Jen - please. Where are you?"
"I just wanted to call you and tell you thank you for trying to help me. But you were right - Nicky is dead because of me. It's my fault." The girls' voice was becoming slower, and Nick knew with sudden sick certainty that she had taken pills. "How many pills have you taken Jen? Jen?"
On the cell phone, he heard Grissom whisper "Keep her talking, Nicky. Keep her talking. Sara is calling her home right now - trying to find her father."
"Jen. Listen to me," Nick demanded. Putting down the cell phone Grissom was on, he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and slid into them, grabbing the keys for the truck and tossing them at Marty before grabbing the cell again. "I'm coming. Tell me where you are. I'm coming."
Nick headed out the door, Marty on his heels. Climbing into the passenger side of his truck, he tried to remain calm when Marty revved it up. On his cell, Grissom murmured to him, "She's not at her house. Sara is talking to her father right now. He doesn't know where she is."
"Why?" Jen was crying, soft muted sounds, "Why?"
"It wasn't your fault, Jen. You have to believe me - it was an accident. You didn't know what would happen to him."
"He's dead. I killed him!"
"No."
"You were right."
"No - I was wrong. I was going through some stuff myself, and I was angry so I got mad at you. It wasn't your fault."
"I feel like it was my fault."
"You will for a long time, Jen. Please - tell me where you are. Let me come and help you."
"Why?"
"Because I'm your friend."
"I don't have any friends. Everyone hates me."
"I don't hate you. And I'll be sad and guilty for the rest of my life if I don't find you. Please Jen."
"I took some pills."
"I know - how many?"
"I don't know. They were green. I'm cold." Jen's voice was getting progressively slower. Nick was barking directions at Marty - 'Turn left - turn right - about 5 miles this way', without even realizing where he was headed too.
"I'm coming, sweetheart. Keep talking to me."
But there was no further response from the girl. "Grissom - call the paramedics."
"Where am I sending them to, Nick?" The older man's voice was calm. Nick looked at the houses passing by, and hollered into the phone, "Send them to the park. We're almost at the park." Hanging up his cell, he prayed his intuition was correct.
The yellow crime scene tape still cordoned off the sandbox. Marty had barely slowed the truck down when Nick threw open the door and flung himself out of it. In the far distance, he could hear sirens.
"Jen!" he hollered, "Jen! Where are you?"
The only answer was the wind. Marty had parked the truck and gotten out, walking quickly to his side, "Who are we looking for?"
"A girl - Nicky babysitter, the one I told you about. God Marty -" Nick broke off and looked at the crawl space where the body of Nick Steeply had been found just four evenings ago. Stepping over the crime scene tape, he went to the mouth of the tube and looked in, his voice echoing hollowly through the tubing when he called Jen's name.
Dropping to his knees, he hollered over his shoulder at Marty, "Go grab me the flashlight in the back cab of the truck," as he began crawling through the tubing.
The stale smell of blood still permeated the crawl space, but Nick tried to ignore it. He had never felt so panicked in his life. The sudden light flashing over his shoulders from the opening of the crawl space made him flinch, but in the glare he saw the still form he was looking for.
The sirens were unbearably loud. From the other end of the crawl space, Nick could see the strobing effect the flashing lights had. He heard a couple of muffled shouts and slamming doors. Reaching Jen, he quickly felt for a pulse, sighing in relief when he managed to find one - thready though it was.
The crawl space was so enclosed; he couldn't sit up in it. Groaning in frustration, Nick managed to get his arms around the slender frame of the unconscious girl, grabbing her under the armpits and unceremoniously dragging her out of the tube. Another door slammed, and he heard Grissom and Sara hollering his name.
An EMT gently pushed him out of the way, and Nick collapsed in the dirt beside the girl, staring at her and clutching his injured arm to his side.
"How did you know where she would be?" Grissom was at his side, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't," Nick replied, "I just knew this is where I would come, if I were her." He rose slowly to his feet, and looked at the EMTs frantically working over her.
The younger EMT must have felt his stare, because he looked up at Nick and smiled grimly, "She's still breathing. Do you know what she took?"
"No. Little green pills. Has someone called her father?"
Jen was lifted easily onto the stretcher, an oxygen mask on her face, and the paramedics quickly wheeled her to the ambulance. "We have to get her to the hospital. We don't know what she took, so we can't risk inducing vomiting. She needs her stomach pumped." The younger paramedic looked at Nick again, "You coming with us?"
"Yes." Nick looked at Grissom. "Please - go get her dad. Sara, would you go with Marty - show her how to get to the hospital? I need to go with Jen."
* * * * *
Garrett Stokes hadn't been able to fall asleep. Lying in his bed in his hotel room, watching an endless round of infomercials, he had replayed the entire day in his head. Nick had called him dad. Nick had hugged him. And Mary was taking him back.
He frowned slightly when the phone rang, his heart clutching as a dozen scenarios played out instantaneously in his mind, before he picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Dad - it's me. Uhh- sorry to wake you. I just wanted to let you know, I'm at the hospital and -"
"What's wrong - is it your arm?"
Nick ran a hand through his short hair.
"No dad - I'm fine. I'm here with a friend. I just wanted to let you know."
Garrett turned the TV down and slowly sat up, "Do you want me to come to the hospital?"
Nick was silent for a moment, before he whispered, "Yeah. It's the babysitter of the little kid that was murdered. She tried to kill herself tonight. She called me to say goodbye. But I found her."
"Is Marty there with you?"
"She'll be here soon. I came in the ambulance with Jen."
"I'll be there soon. What hospital?"
* * * * *
It was 7:30 am before a doctor finally came into emergency to tell them how Jen was. Nick was sitting in a waiting room chair, staring intently at the door when it swung open. To his left, Mr. Letch jumped to his feet.
"How is she?" they both demanded at the same time. Behind him, Marty slipped her hand into Nick's squeezing tightly. His father stood at his other side, his hand braced steadily on Nick's shoulder. Grissom and Sara stood slightly behind Mr. Letch, eyes concerned.
The doctor looked at Mr. Letch first, before allowing his gaze to drift over the other people in the room, allowing his eyes to finally rest on Nick.
"She's stabilized. We pumped her stomach, and we're moving her to a private room in ICU. You the one that found her?"
Nick nodded mutely, face inscrutable. The doctor smiled at him, "You saved her life. It was almost too late as it was - a couple of more minutes later, and she would be dead."
Mr. Letch staggered backwards at the doctor's words. Nick reached out a hand to grab him, but Grissom and Sara were already there holding him up. The older man managed to grate out, "Is she conscious?"
"She was for a few minutes. We've sedated her. You can go up and see her in a few minutes if you want, but don't expect much. After you've seen her, we need to talk some more. She's going to need to see a therapist. We're going to need to determine if she might try this again - if she's a danger to herself or anyone else." He smiled gently at Mr. Letch, "She's a very lucky little girl, Mr. Letch. If it wasn't for this young man here, you would be hearing much different news."
* * * * *
The hospital room was quiet when Nick walked in to visit Jen later that afternoon. He had brought a bouquet of flowers for her, and a stuffed white teddy bear with angel wings. She was lying listlessly in her bed when he walked in, her hand hanging limply in her fathers.
"Hi, Jen. Mr. Letch."
The older man smiled at him wearily, before patting Jen's hand absently with his free hand. "Nick."
Nick turned to Jen, "I brought you some flowers. And this teddy bear - when I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you."
Jen looked at the bear before looking at Nick sadly. Her face was impossibly pale. The hospital still had her hooked up to oxygen, and the hissing of the machine was the only real noise in her room. Her eyes looked impossibly bruised.
"I ran into the doctor out in the hallway. He says you're doing quite well. He says you'll be back on your feet in no time."
Jen just blinked at him. Nick looked at Mr. Letch questioningly, but the older man shook his head. "She won't talk to anyone."
Nick nodded, and turned back to Jen. "I can understand that. Sometimes it hurts too much to talk. Are you angry that I found you?"
Jen shut her eyes, and turned her face into her pillow.
"I'm happy that I found you. You see, Jen -" Nick pulled up a chair and sat opposite her father, "I'm just starting to get my feet back underneath me, and if you had managed to kill yourself, I don't know what I would have done. I can't take guilt like that anymore. I should never have spoken to you the way I did the night I found Nicky Steeply's body in the park. I aplogize."
"I should be dead," Jen quietly rasped out. "I wanted to die."
"No you didn't." Nick replied gently. "If you wanted to die, you wouldn't have called me. You would have just let the pills take you. No one ever wants to die, Jen."
"But -"
"I know you might not believe me, but things will get better. You need to get past this. You need to talk to people - see a psychiatrist. Talk to your dad. Talk to me, if you want. Because this isn't your fault. You made a mistake, but people make mistakes every day. You need to take this and learn to live with it."
"How can I?" Jen's voice was a plea, "How can I?"
Nick shrugged, "One day at a time. Listen, I'm here to make you a deal. When you're feeling up to it, I want to talk to you. I want to tell you about my best friend, Petey. I want to explain to you why I know you'll survive the guilt. You can get over this, Jen. Your dad will help you. And I'll help you."
Jen turned her face back to look at him. "Why do you want to help me?"
Nick smiled gently, "Because I owe it to you, and I owe it to Petey - and I owe it to me."
* * * * *
Garrett hugged Nick tightly. "Don't be a stranger," he whispered gruffly, before turning to Marsha and hugging her just as fiercely.
Nick smiled, "I won't be, dad. Not anymore. Safe flight home. Give mom a kiss and a hug for me."
"Will do," Garrett turned back to Nick, smiling. "I'm proud of you, son. You're a better man than I ever was."
"I'm glad you came to see me, dad. Maybe next time, you can bring mom with you."
Garrett smiled, "She'd love that. Let me know how things work out for Jen. She's still allowed to go home today?"
Nick nodded. "We're heading there after the plane leaves. We're having a welcome home party for her."
Garrett smiled. "I can't believe I've been here a week already. Time flies."
Marsha grinned, "Only when you don't want it to. Have a good flight home, Garrett."
"Take care of Nick for me, Marty."
"I will."
________________________
Author's Notes:
Next chapter is the last, and it's really more of an epilogue. Please R&R – let me know what you think. I'm debating doing a second story as a follow-up to this one, if the interest is there.