Warrick pulled into his assigned parking space at his complex and shut off
the engine, leaning heavily on the steering wheel. Behind him, he heard
the reassuring thump of the automatic gate closing across the drive into
the underground parking lot. Until recently, he never thought about the
building's security. Until he saw a psycho turn his best friend's life
upside down, the friend who was so silently slumped against the passenger
door.
"Nick? Hey man, we're here." He reached out and tapped the other man's arm. His touch was gentle, the reaction was not. Nick jerked away from him, banging his injured wrist on the door.
"Ow, shit…what…" Nick sat up, cradling his wrist, and looked around. "Where are we?"
"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to startle you." Warrick winced in sympathy. We're at my place, remember?" When he was answered with a shaky nod, he continued. "Let me grab your bag and come around on your side before you get out." Nick seemed lost in his thoughts, so Warrick scrambled out, grabbing the gym bag he had collected at Nick's motel.
The passenger door opened and Nick stumbled out before Warrick could reach him. Nick steadied himself on the doorframe until Warrick grasped his arm. "Hey, I thought you were going to wait for me?"
"I'm all right." Nick closed his eyes, trying to will away the dizziness. When he opened them, the worry and the fear he saw in his friend's face stunned him.
"Humor me, okay?" Warrick waited until he saw Nick relax, then he slipped his arm around Nick and guided him towards the elevator. He didn't release the other man until he had deposited him on the bed in his apartment.
Warrick silently stripped the other man down to his boxers. Finally he crouched down next to the bed and placed his hand on Nick's knee. "Do you want something to eat before you go to sleep?"
"Actually, I want a shower. You mind?"
"No problem. Are you steady enough?" Warrick grasped Nick's chin and tilted his face up to look at him. He seemed more alert than he had been down in the garage, so he patted Nick's knee and stood up. "There's a clean towel hanging up in there, I'll grab you some clothes."
Warrick swung the gym bag up onto the bed as Nick made his way to the adjoining bathroom. As he heard the water start, he began the task of unpacking. The bag seemed light and sure enough only carried the bare essentials. What surprised Warrick though were the tags. The clothes were new – Nick had taken nothing from his home with him to the motel. Shaking his head, he yanked the tags off a pair of boxers and a set of sweats, leaving the rest for later. Warrick dumped the rest of the clothes back in the bag and set it on the dresser before heading for the bathroom. Halfway across the room he stopped and returned to turn down the bed, figuring Nick would just want to crawl in and go to sleep. As he stood, a crash sounded from the bathroom.
"Nick!" Warrick rushed into the room, not bothering to knock. Through the shower door he could see the other man slumped on the shower floor. "Come on, buddy, talk to me" Warrick pulled the door open and shut off the water before bending down to check on Nick. "No blood, that's good. Nick, can you hear me?"
His gentle pats to the face were met with a soft moan as Nick slowly opened his eyes. "What happened?" He appeared dazed and confused.
Warrick reached up and pulled the towel down off the rack and draped it over Nick before answering. "I was hoping you could tell me. Were you dizzy or did you slip?"
Nick thought for a second. "I think I just got wobbly for a minute. I'm okay now, let me up, man."
"Not so fast. Let's check you out a little bit first." Warrick ran his hands over Nick's head, encountering a rapidly forming lump. "Looks like you hit your head again. Got a matched set of bumps back there. Do you have any pain in your neck or your back?"
"No, my headache is a little bit worse, but that's the only thing that hurts." Nick shifted in an attempt to get up, but was pushed back into place.
"What about your wrist?" This was the first time Warrick had seen Nick's wrist without the brace and was shocked at how swollen and bruised it looked. He braced Nick's arm near the elbow and let the rest of his arm rest against his own. The fine tremors in Nick's hand became apparent. He pinched the skin on Nick's forearm and was shocked at how slowly it bounced back.
Suspicious as to the cause of his friend's collapse, Warrick checked the pulse on Nick's uninjured wrist. It was slower than normal and to Warrick's sensitive fingers, not as strong as it should have been. "Nick, when was the last time you ate?"
"Ate?" Nick's brow wrinkled as he thought about the question. "Umm, at the hospital. The doctor made me eat something before she released me, remember?"
"Shit." The subvocalization was too soft for Nick to hear. "Nick, that was Jell-O, two days ago. Are you saying that you haven't had anything else since then?"
"Wasn't hungry. Sorry."
Warrick studied the crumpled man in front of him. Nick was only a year younger than himself, but right now he seemed much younger. "No, man, it's our fault. We should have taken better care of you. If I help you, do you think you can make it to the car, or do need an ambulance?"
"I'm not going back to the hospital, I'm fine."
"You are not fine."
"All right, I'm cold and wet and tired. That isn't something to go to the hospital for."
For a second Warrick was going to argue, until he realized in front of him was a man desperate to regain control of his own life. Control that Nigel Crane, in his insanity, had ripped away from his gentle friend. Something that he and the rest of his colleagues had failed to notice.
"All right, I'll make you a deal." Nick looked at him suspiciously and waited for him to continue. "Let's get you dried off and into bed. I'll call the doctor and bring her up to date with what's been happening. If she thinks your fall could be something more serious, then we'll go in; otherwise, we'll stay here. Sound fair?"
"Yeah, okay." This time when Nick tried to stand up, Warrick pulled him upright. After a quick adjustment of the towel, he had Nick out of the shower and seated on the closed toilet.
"Can you stay put for a minute while I grab another towel?" As soon as he saw Nick nod, Warrick was out the door and to the closet. He grabbed another towel and was back to Nick before the younger man could move at all. The damp skin was dried as Warrick carefully maneuvered around the dozens of bruises that peppered Nick's arms and back. Eventually, Warrick was satisfied and helped his friend dress.
"Ready?" Nick nodded and let Warrick pull him to his feet. His uninjured arm was pulled up over Warrick's shoulder. Warrick had one arm securely wrapped around Nick's waist; the other cradled the sprained wrist. When they reached the bed, Warrick gently turned him and eased him down onto it. Nothing was said as he lifted Nick's legs and slid them under the covers. Once he had Nick settled and the blankets wrapped around him, Warrick sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Buddy, where are your pain pills? I need the doctor's name off the bottle." Warrick shook his arm slightly, forcing him to stay awake.
"Mmm…coat. Coat pocket." Nick snuggled further down, comfortable in the large waterbed.
Warrick found the bottle and began dialing the phone, moving away from Nick to let him rest.
"Yes, Emergency room? Is Dr. Morgan on duty tonight? It's about a patient she saw there. Yeah, I'll hold." The wait was surprisingly brief before she was on the line.
Nick watched his friend through shuttered eyes. His name was mentioned a few times, but he couldn't force himself to wake up enough to understand what was being said. Eventually, the bed swayed and he forced himself to wake up enough to know what was happening. Dark fingers moved towards him and then his eyes were opened wide and exposed to a bright light. The bed shifted again as Warrick moved away, and he drifted away again.
Warrick keyed off the phone and leaned heavily against the dresser. Morgan hadn't reamed him, but he could hear the censure in her voice. They had definitely fallen down on the job. Chastising himself again, he moved back to Nick's side.
"Nick, you awake, buddy?" Warrick carefully replaced the wrist brace as he spoke to the semi-aware man. "I talked to the doctor and she seems to think you collapsed because you're exhausted and you haven't been eating. She said that you don't have to go back to the hospital unless things get worse."
There was a pause in the voice and Nick realized that he was expecting a response. "I'll be fine."
"Yeah, man, I know." Warrick gently pulled the bandage off Nick's forehead, wincing in sympathy as Nick winced. "But I need to wake you up every hour to check on that hard head of yours, and you need to eat. Okay?"
"You cooking?" Nick opened one eye to see the reaction.
The humor in his tone eased some of Warrick's worry. "Very funny. Even I can warm up canned soup." He patted Nick on the shoulder. "Let me re- bandage that cut before you doze off on me again."
Nick was asleep before he returned with the first aid kit and had no reaction to Warrick's quiet care as his forehead was bandaged and the other cuts and scrapes were treated with ointment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warrick took the portable phone with him into the kitchen and dialed a familiar number as he dug through his cupboard for a can of soup.
Grissom.
"Yeah, it's Warrick."
How's Nick doing, is he getting any rest?
Warrick pulled out a can of cream of tomato soup and began opening it. "He's a mess, Gris. He hasn't eaten since all this started, and I don't think he's slept. He collapsed in the shower."
What!
"Yeah, scared the hell out of me. I called the doctor that treated him at the hospital. She wanted to know why his family wasn't taking better care of him." He turned the stove on low and leaned against the counter. "When a case is over, we turn the victim over to their family and just walk away. We never give it a second thought." His own guilt was echoed in Grissom's voice.
We're his family here.
"And we fell down on the job. How do we fix it, man?"
By making up for it now. Warrick could hear an engine shutting down over the phone line. Catherine and Sara are taking care of the house, you concentrate on Nick. I'm meeting someone at the University.
"The University? Who's there?" Warrick poured a glass of milk and grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator and set them on the tray he was preparing.
A Professor Mitchell Hamilton in the psychology department. We've learned a great deal about the physical damage a stalker can do; now it's time to learn about the emotional damage.
"Nick? Hey man, we're here." He reached out and tapped the other man's arm. His touch was gentle, the reaction was not. Nick jerked away from him, banging his injured wrist on the door.
"Ow, shit…what…" Nick sat up, cradling his wrist, and looked around. "Where are we?"
"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to startle you." Warrick winced in sympathy. We're at my place, remember?" When he was answered with a shaky nod, he continued. "Let me grab your bag and come around on your side before you get out." Nick seemed lost in his thoughts, so Warrick scrambled out, grabbing the gym bag he had collected at Nick's motel.
The passenger door opened and Nick stumbled out before Warrick could reach him. Nick steadied himself on the doorframe until Warrick grasped his arm. "Hey, I thought you were going to wait for me?"
"I'm all right." Nick closed his eyes, trying to will away the dizziness. When he opened them, the worry and the fear he saw in his friend's face stunned him.
"Humor me, okay?" Warrick waited until he saw Nick relax, then he slipped his arm around Nick and guided him towards the elevator. He didn't release the other man until he had deposited him on the bed in his apartment.
Warrick silently stripped the other man down to his boxers. Finally he crouched down next to the bed and placed his hand on Nick's knee. "Do you want something to eat before you go to sleep?"
"Actually, I want a shower. You mind?"
"No problem. Are you steady enough?" Warrick grasped Nick's chin and tilted his face up to look at him. He seemed more alert than he had been down in the garage, so he patted Nick's knee and stood up. "There's a clean towel hanging up in there, I'll grab you some clothes."
Warrick swung the gym bag up onto the bed as Nick made his way to the adjoining bathroom. As he heard the water start, he began the task of unpacking. The bag seemed light and sure enough only carried the bare essentials. What surprised Warrick though were the tags. The clothes were new – Nick had taken nothing from his home with him to the motel. Shaking his head, he yanked the tags off a pair of boxers and a set of sweats, leaving the rest for later. Warrick dumped the rest of the clothes back in the bag and set it on the dresser before heading for the bathroom. Halfway across the room he stopped and returned to turn down the bed, figuring Nick would just want to crawl in and go to sleep. As he stood, a crash sounded from the bathroom.
"Nick!" Warrick rushed into the room, not bothering to knock. Through the shower door he could see the other man slumped on the shower floor. "Come on, buddy, talk to me" Warrick pulled the door open and shut off the water before bending down to check on Nick. "No blood, that's good. Nick, can you hear me?"
His gentle pats to the face were met with a soft moan as Nick slowly opened his eyes. "What happened?" He appeared dazed and confused.
Warrick reached up and pulled the towel down off the rack and draped it over Nick before answering. "I was hoping you could tell me. Were you dizzy or did you slip?"
Nick thought for a second. "I think I just got wobbly for a minute. I'm okay now, let me up, man."
"Not so fast. Let's check you out a little bit first." Warrick ran his hands over Nick's head, encountering a rapidly forming lump. "Looks like you hit your head again. Got a matched set of bumps back there. Do you have any pain in your neck or your back?"
"No, my headache is a little bit worse, but that's the only thing that hurts." Nick shifted in an attempt to get up, but was pushed back into place.
"What about your wrist?" This was the first time Warrick had seen Nick's wrist without the brace and was shocked at how swollen and bruised it looked. He braced Nick's arm near the elbow and let the rest of his arm rest against his own. The fine tremors in Nick's hand became apparent. He pinched the skin on Nick's forearm and was shocked at how slowly it bounced back.
Suspicious as to the cause of his friend's collapse, Warrick checked the pulse on Nick's uninjured wrist. It was slower than normal and to Warrick's sensitive fingers, not as strong as it should have been. "Nick, when was the last time you ate?"
"Ate?" Nick's brow wrinkled as he thought about the question. "Umm, at the hospital. The doctor made me eat something before she released me, remember?"
"Shit." The subvocalization was too soft for Nick to hear. "Nick, that was Jell-O, two days ago. Are you saying that you haven't had anything else since then?"
"Wasn't hungry. Sorry."
Warrick studied the crumpled man in front of him. Nick was only a year younger than himself, but right now he seemed much younger. "No, man, it's our fault. We should have taken better care of you. If I help you, do you think you can make it to the car, or do need an ambulance?"
"I'm not going back to the hospital, I'm fine."
"You are not fine."
"All right, I'm cold and wet and tired. That isn't something to go to the hospital for."
For a second Warrick was going to argue, until he realized in front of him was a man desperate to regain control of his own life. Control that Nigel Crane, in his insanity, had ripped away from his gentle friend. Something that he and the rest of his colleagues had failed to notice.
"All right, I'll make you a deal." Nick looked at him suspiciously and waited for him to continue. "Let's get you dried off and into bed. I'll call the doctor and bring her up to date with what's been happening. If she thinks your fall could be something more serious, then we'll go in; otherwise, we'll stay here. Sound fair?"
"Yeah, okay." This time when Nick tried to stand up, Warrick pulled him upright. After a quick adjustment of the towel, he had Nick out of the shower and seated on the closed toilet.
"Can you stay put for a minute while I grab another towel?" As soon as he saw Nick nod, Warrick was out the door and to the closet. He grabbed another towel and was back to Nick before the younger man could move at all. The damp skin was dried as Warrick carefully maneuvered around the dozens of bruises that peppered Nick's arms and back. Eventually, Warrick was satisfied and helped his friend dress.
"Ready?" Nick nodded and let Warrick pull him to his feet. His uninjured arm was pulled up over Warrick's shoulder. Warrick had one arm securely wrapped around Nick's waist; the other cradled the sprained wrist. When they reached the bed, Warrick gently turned him and eased him down onto it. Nothing was said as he lifted Nick's legs and slid them under the covers. Once he had Nick settled and the blankets wrapped around him, Warrick sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Buddy, where are your pain pills? I need the doctor's name off the bottle." Warrick shook his arm slightly, forcing him to stay awake.
"Mmm…coat. Coat pocket." Nick snuggled further down, comfortable in the large waterbed.
Warrick found the bottle and began dialing the phone, moving away from Nick to let him rest.
"Yes, Emergency room? Is Dr. Morgan on duty tonight? It's about a patient she saw there. Yeah, I'll hold." The wait was surprisingly brief before she was on the line.
Nick watched his friend through shuttered eyes. His name was mentioned a few times, but he couldn't force himself to wake up enough to understand what was being said. Eventually, the bed swayed and he forced himself to wake up enough to know what was happening. Dark fingers moved towards him and then his eyes were opened wide and exposed to a bright light. The bed shifted again as Warrick moved away, and he drifted away again.
Warrick keyed off the phone and leaned heavily against the dresser. Morgan hadn't reamed him, but he could hear the censure in her voice. They had definitely fallen down on the job. Chastising himself again, he moved back to Nick's side.
"Nick, you awake, buddy?" Warrick carefully replaced the wrist brace as he spoke to the semi-aware man. "I talked to the doctor and she seems to think you collapsed because you're exhausted and you haven't been eating. She said that you don't have to go back to the hospital unless things get worse."
There was a pause in the voice and Nick realized that he was expecting a response. "I'll be fine."
"Yeah, man, I know." Warrick gently pulled the bandage off Nick's forehead, wincing in sympathy as Nick winced. "But I need to wake you up every hour to check on that hard head of yours, and you need to eat. Okay?"
"You cooking?" Nick opened one eye to see the reaction.
The humor in his tone eased some of Warrick's worry. "Very funny. Even I can warm up canned soup." He patted Nick on the shoulder. "Let me re- bandage that cut before you doze off on me again."
Nick was asleep before he returned with the first aid kit and had no reaction to Warrick's quiet care as his forehead was bandaged and the other cuts and scrapes were treated with ointment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warrick took the portable phone with him into the kitchen and dialed a familiar number as he dug through his cupboard for a can of soup.
Grissom.
"Yeah, it's Warrick."
How's Nick doing, is he getting any rest?
Warrick pulled out a can of cream of tomato soup and began opening it. "He's a mess, Gris. He hasn't eaten since all this started, and I don't think he's slept. He collapsed in the shower."
What!
"Yeah, scared the hell out of me. I called the doctor that treated him at the hospital. She wanted to know why his family wasn't taking better care of him." He turned the stove on low and leaned against the counter. "When a case is over, we turn the victim over to their family and just walk away. We never give it a second thought." His own guilt was echoed in Grissom's voice.
We're his family here.
"And we fell down on the job. How do we fix it, man?"
By making up for it now. Warrick could hear an engine shutting down over the phone line. Catherine and Sara are taking care of the house, you concentrate on Nick. I'm meeting someone at the University.
"The University? Who's there?" Warrick poured a glass of milk and grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator and set them on the tray he was preparing.
A Professor Mitchell Hamilton in the psychology department. We've learned a great deal about the physical damage a stalker can do; now it's time to learn about the emotional damage.