The alarm clock chimed as another hour passed and Warrick climbed out of his chair, stretching his arms overhead. He turned up the jazz on the stereo as he moved down the hallway. Once inside the bedroom, he turned on a side light before moving to the bed. "Nick? Nick, you need to wake up again."

Warrick stepped back as Nick sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Once he was sitting upright, Warrick moved closer then had to back up again as Nick stood up. "Where are you going?"

Nick gave him a lopsided grin. "Well, since I got here, you've poured soup, milk, and who knows how many bottles of water down my throat. Where do you think I'm going?" Without waiting for an answer, he shuffled towards the bathroom door.

"Do you need any help?" With his long legs, it only took a few steps for Warrick to catch his friend.

His grin grew even wider as he turned his head. "Not since I was about two, but thanks." Before the other man could come up with a suitable comeback, Nick had the bathroom door closed.

Warrick laughed at the door that had shut in his face. Every glimmer of humor from Nick showed him that his friend was still intact, under all that pain. The sounds coming from behind the door were muffled, but the familiar squeal of the pipes in the sink told him when Nick was done.

Warrick shadowed him back to the bed, then carefully tucked him in. "How do you feel, do you need a pain pill?"

"Nah, I'm all right." Nick pulled at the bedding, wrinkling it and settling himself into a more comfortable position.

"Stay awake for a few minutes. Okay?" Warrick tapped at Nick's foot to get his attention. "We need to get some more food into you." He waited while Nick pulled himself into a more upright position before moving out of the room.

Nick didn't have long to wait before Warrick was back in the room with a tray. Whatever was in the bowl smelled vaguely of cinnamon, but Nick didn't comment until the tray was on his lap. "Rice pudding? Man, I haven't had this since I was a kid."

"Yeah, my grandmother would make it for me when I was sick."

"Did you…"

Warrick knew the question being asked. "Sorry, man, it's store bought. Grams never shares her recipes. Greg went to the store for us." Warrick laughed at the expression on Nick's face. "Don't worry, he had a list."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The sound of a vehicle pulling up told Catherine and Sara that the insurance adjuster had arrived. Behind them, Paul scrambled down from the attic, indicating that he had heard the man's arrival also. He gave Catherine a look that she recognized from years of working with Grissom and she grabbed Sara's arm, keeping them in the background as Newsome moved to the door.

"Randy Hall, it's good to see you." Paul pumped the man's arm in greeting as he moved him into the living room.

Nick's insurance adjuster seemed rattled by the presence of the county's engineer. "Paul…Mr. Newsome…I wasn't expecting you to be here. We weren't aware that there was that much damage done."

"I've taken a personal interest in this case, Randy, and I'll be following up on the repairs very closely." Paul steered him down the hall, towards the access panel. "Why don't I show you want I've found so far – give you a bit of a head start on your estimate?"

As they passed the ladies, Paul reached down and grabbed the ALS and glasses. He smiled at Catherine. "Do you mind if we borrow this? I think it will be very helpful."

Catherine returned the smile and held out a handful of latex gloves. "You'll want these too."

Hall looked back and forth between them and swallowed hard. "I understand there was a crime committed here."

Catherine and Sara both glanced back into the living room, at the tape outline still on the carpet. Sara cocked her head as she explained. "The murder actually happened up in the attic. You'll see that when you're up there. The murderer then dropped the body down through the ceiling as part of his attack on the homeowner, Mr. Stokes."

For a moment, Hall looked like he might bolt, then he straightened up and rubbed his palms on the rough texture of his corduroy slacks. "Well, let's see what we've got." He fumbled for a bit with the gloves before moving to the stepladder they had been using to get into the attic.

Sara lifted one of the garbage bags she had filled from the refrigerator and walked through the still open door. Behind her Catherine grunted slightly as she picked up the other bag. It took them a bit to find Nick's trash can before they realized that he had planted several tall shrubs to hide it from view. Catherine tossed her bag into the can as Sara held the lid. "Any idea what day is pick up day around here?"

Sara glanced up the tidy street. A scraping noise caught her attention and she pointed to an elderly woman several houses down who was dragging her garbage can to the curb. "Looks like we timed it right." The two women picked up their can and easily carried it down the driveway. Once they had it in place, they moved to help Nick's neighbor.

"Thank you dears. I'd forgotten just how hard it is to move that old can by myself."

Before Catherine could ask if she normally had help, the woman began to speak again. "I saw you at Nicky's house. Does that mean he'll be home soon?"

Catherine looked over at Sara who just shrugged in response, so she worded her answer carefully until she knew more about this lady. "Nick is staying at a friend's place for a while." A suspicion began to form in her mind. She could see the gallant young man taking care of the frail woman. "Does Nick usually help you?"

"If it wasn't for that sweet young man I would have had to go into a home after my Arthur passed away. He's been an absolute Godsend, and won't let me pay him a single dime for all he does. He just smiles that charming smile of his and says, 'Aunt Maggie, I would move mountains for a plate of your homemade cookies'. Isn't that the sweetest thing?" Maggie twisted her apron into a knot as she finally stopped to breathe, her eyes brimming with tears. "I was so scared when all those police cars came flying down the street the other night, and then when I looked out and saw the coroner's van…"

Catherine found herself hugging Nick's adopted aunt. "He's going to be all right, really."

"That's right, and the repairs will be done and he'll be home before you know it." Sara chimed in, also needing to comfort Maggie.

"Will you be seeing him?"

"We'll see him in the morning. Would you like us to give him a message?" Catherine patted the gnarled hand as she stepped back.

Maggie noticeably brightened. "Oh, would you? Even better, I made his favorite cookies last night – would you take some to him?"

"Of course we will." Even as she spoke, Catherine's attention was drawn back to Nick's house as Newsome and Hall could be seen walking down the driveway. She turned back to Maggie. "I've got to go check on something." Catherine gave Sara a meaningful look as she turned and trotted back to Nick's.

Sara forced a smile as she offered her arm and escorted the elderly woman back to her house.

By the time Catherine made her way back to the house Hall was pulling out of the driveway, so she turned her attention to Newsome. "Well?"

Paul handed Catherine a stack of estimate forms and a business card. "Call this guy, he specializes in restorations. If the insurance company balks at anything, give me a call. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Paul, I owe you." Catherine gave him a hug. "This means a lot to me."

Sara walked up behind the pair. "Does this mean that the insurance company is going to pay for the repairs?" She balanced a plate of chocolate chip cookies in her hands.

"Cookies?" Paul reached over Catherine's shoulder and snitched one before releasing her. She slapped his arm as he took a bite.

"Hey, those are for Nick."

Paul coughed and swallowed hard. "Are these to make him feel better?"

"Actually, she makes them for him all the time. He mows her lawn, takes her to the store, and keeps up on all the repairs for her." Sara pulled the plate closer and tucked the plastic wrap back around it. "I think it's sweet that he won't accept anything except her homemade cookies."

"Sweet? The guy's a saint." Paul stared at the remains of the cookie in his hand. "These are the worst cookies I've ever had in my life."

Catherine gaped. "You've got to be kidding!" Behind her, Sara started laughing.