Sprung
He slept again, but woke up earlier than he'd planned. Nick blinked, trying to focus on anything. His watch said it was only 4:30.
Why am I awake? He sighed and rolled over.
Then he heard it.
Something scratched outside his bedroom window. Nick craned his head up to see what it was.
And it moved. A large shadow quickly moved.
Nick bolted out of his bed and grabbed his gun. He peered out the window, but whatever it was, it was gone.
His heart raced again.
Nick ran to the front door, flinging it open with his gun drawn.
Staring back at him was Sara, wide-eyed and flabbergasted.
"Geez, sorry!" he said. Nick quickly dropped his aim and ran a hand over his flush face.
When he glanced back at her, he noticed she too was flushed.
And that's when it dawned on Nick that he was clad only in his boxers.
"Aside from being mostly naked, are you okay?" Sara asked. Nick stumbled for words.
"Uh . . ." He motioned for her to come in and half dashed for his bedroom. "Let me, uh, get some clothes," he shouted from his room. His mind was laughing at him for his stupidity.
And from the sounds of it, so was Sara.
He came back out in more decent apparel. Sara stood by the TV, picking up tapes and putting them down again.
"So, how are you?" she asked. Nick instantly frowned.
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he asked. "I'm fine." Sara started talking with her hands, waving a tape she'd gotten her hands on.
"You keep saying you're fine, but everyone knows something's up," she said. Nick froze.
The tape she held . . . it was one of the tapes from the grocery store.
Didn't I leave that on the counter?
Maybe Paige watched it.
"What?" Sara asked, glancing between the tape and Nick.
"Did you get that there, or did you pick that up from the counter?" he asked slowly. He hoped he was just imagining it.
"It was on the TV, Nick, like the others," she said. She was frowning, perplexed at his behavior. "Why?"
Nick just shook his head.
He spent most of the night in the lab. Catherine wanted to go double check something with the crime scene, and Nick was grateful when she said she could handle it herself.
Am I just being paranoid? Things just being misplaced?
But what about outside my window? That couldn't have been Sara.
Or am I still paranoid?
He sighed and made his way to the breakroom.
He heard someone call his name, and stopped to see he'd passed the receptionist.
"Nick," she said, "did your friends get a hold of you?"
"Friends?" he repeated.
The young woman nodded. "Yeah. Two guys. They said they were trying to get in touch with you."
Nick swallowed. He had no idea who would be looking for him, but this just unsettled him more.
"They kept missing you, so I told them your normal hours," the receptionist continued. Nick felt his stomach lurch.
"Thanks," he said hollowly. She nodded cheerfully and moved on.
You have to get to the bottom of this. Quickly.
Nick stormed through the CSI lab to Grissom's office. The supervisor sat calmly at his desk, reading something on his laptop.
"Grissom," Nick said in a rush. "I need a few days off."
"So what do you have?" Gil asked Catherine. The two CSIs sat at a table, covered with crime scene photos and evidence. Grissom was a bit disturbed by Nick's abrupt request for time off. It wasn't characteristic for him.
It was so sudden, and Nick didn't offer any explanation. But Grissom granted it, and took over the gang murder case with Catherine.
"The gun was tossed in the alley behind the restaurant," she said. "Casings from inside the crime scene match the striations of the gun."
"Any prints?" he asked.
"No, so no suspects at this point," she said. She didn't look at him as she went on. "You worried about him?"
Grissom glanced at her, but nodded.
"He's hiding something." Gil sighed. "Did you see the cut on his face?"
She shrugged and picked up a photo. "It could have been a lovers' quarrel." Gil shot her an incredulous look.
"Doubtful," he said simply. His eyes moved to the photo she held, and they widened as he spotted something. "Who is that?"
Catherine looked between him and the photo. And then she saw what Grissom meant.
"Who's the woman?" In one of the photos of where Nick found the gun, a woman was in the background. Half of her body was cut off in the photo, but she was there. Catherine didn't recognize her.
But Grissom knew she looked familiar.
"Oh my."
Catherine shot him a look, pressuring him for answers. "What?"
Gil pointed at the woman's half-seen face. "That's Paige Landry."
Nick checked the locks on his doors and windows for the eighth time since being home. His hands were sweaty and his muscles tight. He paced back and forth, his eyes on his gun that was loaded and ready, resting on the countertop.
Part of him realized how he might be overreacting about it all. But Paige's cryptic warnings were starting to get through to him.
He rolled his eyes at the thought of her. She liked him, to put it mildly and simply, but yet she didn't seem concerned with the trouble she'd brought up. Nick couldn't blame her for everything, for how unsafe he felt now, but he did know that he was fine two weeks ago.
She could just be nuts, he thought. Sure, she was gorgeous, but that didn't mask what was starting to become obvious.
Except when she kisses you. Nick immediately groaned out loud at himself. He stomped back to his bedroom and changed into some clothes suited for jogging.
His eyes lingered on his gun before he left. The paranoid part of him said take it! He reached for it, his hand hovering over the security it would give him. Suddenly he pulled back, and left his house without it.
He ran to the park. It was overcast, and even so, the hidden sun would set soon. Nick started running.
He didn't bother with the slow starter pace or even a brisk jog. He ran full-out, not holding anything back. His speed and determination drew some looks from some teens skateboarding, but Nick didn't really care about that.
The quick pace was hard to keep steady, but focusing on it kept his mind busy. His lungs expelled air with short bursts, and little streams of sweat dripped over his skin. Nick swiped at his face, and kept running.
He'd circled the park a few times, but he hadn't noticed the car until now. It was a dark SUV, tinted windows and an idling engine. Nick passed it but heard the engine rev slightly.
He glanced over his shoulder. The SUV was following him, nearly matching his pace, which was tiring out. Nick swallowed hard and picked up his pace.
Suddenly he cut across the park, not caring if he looked crazy. Behind him he heard screeching tires and car doors opening and shutting.
He ventured a glance back at the vehicle, and was struck by how dark everything was. The sun was gone, and Nick discovered he was nearly alone in the park. Not only that, but two men dressed as joggers were following him.
Nick swore under his ragged breath and pumped his legs harder. There was a thick area of trees in the park, and Nick made his way there. With no gun or cell phone, hiding was his best idea.
The "joggers" weren't far behind him, and that made Nick fearful. He'd been running for awhile now, and the men following were fresh.
Don't think; just get away!! He obeyed his instinct.
The thick trees enveloped Nick, and he quickly cut into them, weaving around, and far from any path. His hurried steps made a lot of noise. Nick stopped and tried to move more quietly.
The biggest problem was his breathing. He could hardly breathe quietly, much less move without attracting—
Something snapped around him. Nick whirled around to face it.
One of the joggers stood there, grinning at Nick. Nick bolted.
Twigs tore into his skin as he ran through the trees, not caring anymore if he could be heard. He heard the jogger shout to whoever was with him, and Nick couldn't stop the panic flooding him.
Get back to the lab—just get anywhere but here!
His foot suddenly caught on a tree root, and Nick pitched forward. Just then, a small explosion sounded behind him, and chased him.
It was merely a gunshot, but the bullet whizzed above Nick's head as he fell.
Crap.
He tried to stay low as he continued to run, until he made it out of the trees. Nick quickly looked from side to side, seeing if he was clear or not. But it was so dark now, he couldn't make out anything that wasn't in the street lamps' path.
Suddenly he was grabbed. He didn't where it came from, but Nick found himself under attack.
His assailant put him in a choke hold. Nick wrenched his body, trying to get free. He gagged at the pressure on his neck but tried to elbow his attacker in the chest. Suddenly he was hit, a punch to one of his kidneys. Nick yelped and his body slacked for a second as the pain radiated through him. The assailant took the moment to drag Nick by his neck towards the street. Nick could hear that engine idling nearby.
Air was short, little enough to keep him alive, but Nick felt himself weakening. His vision swirled and he could feel unconsciousness start to take him.
A loud siren screamed at him and his attacker. Red and blue lights flashed at them, and suddenly Nick was dropped. His body collapsed to the hard ground, and his lungs instantly expanded to take in the neglected air. When he heard shouts of police and the retreating footsteps of his attacker, Nick ventured to glance around.
"Sir, are you okay?" one of them asked. Nick could hear the strain in the voice, and he knew one of the police had a gun drawn.
"Sir?"
Nick nodded. "I'm Nick Stokes, with the Crime Lab. Can you get me there?"