One Of Us 6/?
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THE FOLLOWING NIGHT:
"Nick?"
Startled out of dark, morose thoughts, Nick Stokes instinctively batted away the gentle hand on his shoulder and swiftly rose to his feet, sending his chair skittering toward the wall.
"Grissom. Hey... I'm so sorry. You caught me off-guard."
"No harm done. At least you struck with the un-casted hand."
"Yeah." Nick said, gazing briefly at his injury.
"Preoccupied.... or something else?" Gil asked as he retrieved the chair and both men sat down.
"Else... I guess. Wishin' I'd said no to the pain meds last night. They.... they make it hard to wake up."
"Nightmares."
"Nasty suckers, too. I haven't had these ones in... almost twelve years. It's funny how your memory kinda.... puts bad stuff in storage after a while, at least while you're awake. The colors get dimmer, details get fuzzy..... when you sleep, though, it comes back clear an' bright... sickening as the night it happened."
"Nicky..."
"Why does shit like this have to happen, Gris? An' always to sweet kids like Greg...."
"And you."
"I'm no kid." Nick sighed, sweeping his uninjured hand over his face.
"You were when you were assaulted. Greg will come back to the world eventually, Nick. When he does, he'll need someone who understands what he's feeling and thinking."
"Not if he's thinking what I was after... after it happened."
"Which was?"
"Verbatim? The way I remember it, there were two or three cops standin' around, and my first coherent thought was 'I wonder if I'm fast enough to grab one of their guns and blow my brains out before anybody can stop me?' "
Grissom dropped his chin to his chest for a moment, absorbing the frightening statement, then he glanced up again.
"I'm glad you suppressed the impulse. You're still not coming with us tonight?"
"Nah. I told you, I'd feel like I was violating him all over again."
"I understand, but this may be the only way for us to find out where he was last night, which could lead us to his rapists."
"I get that. I just.... can't. I'm gonna switch out with Warrick and take over the case he was workin' with Sara."
"He's brought you up to speed?"
"As of start of shift tonight."
After a deep breath and a few seconds of silence, Grissom nodded, rose and left the break-room. Nick followed a few minutes later, intending to hit the morgue for an update on the body, but his distraction caused him to literally bump into the person he least wanted to see.
"Sorry, Hodges."
"I doubt it." the other man grumbled. A smile soon broke out on his face, however. "Hey, how's heavy-metal boy, anyway?"
"What?"
"Sanders. I heard he ended up in the ER. Did his bong explode or was it his eardrums? I wouldn't be surprised if it was both simultaneously. Maybe the Hell's Angels beat him up for daring to listen to anything but techno...."
Silent, Nick turned to face Hodges squarely and expressed his displeasure by thrusting his cast into the other man's midsection. After a moment to appreciate the reaction, he used the cast to uppercut, then forcefully back-hand the irritant into submission. Hodges crashed into the wall then dropped to the floor, wheezing and bleeding from the mouth. Nick spat a few terse words, stepped over the inert form and continued on his way, shaking his hand and cursing under his breath.
"He was raped you ignorant, arrogant asshole! Stupid son of a bitch...."
Hearing the blows and the thump of someone hitting the ground, Sara came running from a nearby room and stopped dead at the sight of Hodges laid out in front of her.
"What the hell..."
"S... Stokes.... he hit me!"
"And your contribution was..."
"Nothing!"
"Uh-huh."
"I made some comment about... about Sanders. How was I sh'pposed to know wha' happened to 'im? Noone bovered to tell me!" he slurred, his words swiftly losing their form as his jaw swelled.
"Yeah... I can't understand why." She snapped, turning to walk away.
"Hey.... help me...."
"There's a first aid kit in the break-room. Go clean yourself up and quit blocking the hallway. Better do it soon, too. The janitors might recognize you for the garbage you are and toss you in the dumpster out back."
-----------------------------
"You know I sent the report up a while ago."
"I know. I skimmed it. Thought I'd come down and see if there's anything new that didn't make it in there."
"Not really. How's the hand? Looks like you ran the cast into something."
"Nothin' I regret..."
"Uh-hmm. Somebody make a ill-considered comment about Greg?" the other man asked, tension suddenly coloring his voice.
"Yeah.... how'd you..."
"You're generally good about holding back on your anger. Situation like this.... might be the only thing that could get you to react without thinking it through or counting to ten first. Is the cast badly damaged?"
"Nah....just a little crack. It'll be okay. So there's nothin' more recent on the post? Nothing I need to know before I go out and do more work at the scene?"
"As I said in the report, there was very little damage to the body, internal or external. If he did fall, it wasn't from very high up. No higher than the second story probably. Cause of death was a massive heart attack."
"Okay. Thanks."
"No problem...." the older man replied, turning away to answer the phone. Nick hung around in case it was about his case, but when the ME hung up, Nick wished he'd left when he had the chance. "Grissom and Brass. They want you upstairs, pronto."
Nick grimaced and swore softly.
"I shoulda run like the wind right after it happened...."
"Yeah, you should have. Hodges.... he'll see you in a cell. Good God man, are you insane?"
"No. Tired and pissed and scared for Greg.... not much difference, I guess."
"At least you won't be alone."
"What?"
"Sara found him in the hall and apparently she wasn't much kinder verbally than you were physically."
"Crap...." Nick said, turning to head back to the upper level.
-----------------------------------
THE HOSPITAL:
Gently brushing a few strands of hair off Greg's forehead, Catherine glanced at her watch and frowned. Having only had an hour or two with him, she hated that she had to go but she was already late for shift. If Grissom hadn't allowed her to join the team examining Greg's apartment, she might have called and said she wasn't coming in, but her eagerness to catch the young man's attackers was almost as strong as her desire to stay by his side. Leaning in to place a soft kiss on his brow, she smiled at Greg and gripped his hand.
"I have to leave now, sweetheart. The investigation's kicking into high gear tonight. We'll get whoever did this, kiddo, I promise. Don't give up, okay? You hang on as tight as you can. You're gonna be fine..... just fine. I'll see you soon."
As she moved to lay his hand back on the bed, Greg's palm curled slightly around hers, anchoring her to the visitor's chair. Catherine suddenly gasped, wanting to believe what she'd felt, but not daring to think it might be real.
{God... can it be? It's too soon.... and he's too young to be so strong. Just maybe.... C'mon Greg.... if you're there show me....}
The questioning rasp of her name forced from a dehydrated throat confirmed the evidence of her fingers and her expression was a strange mix of joy and sorrow as his eyes found hers.
"Cath?"
"I'm here, Greg. I'm right here.... you're alright. Thank God..."
"Everything hurts.... I'm thirsty...."
"I know... I know. We'll fix that in just a minute. Hang on..." she reassured him, reaching for and pressing the button that would summon help.
"Where... where am I?"
"In the hospital."
"Hospital... what...."
"Shhhh. Don't try to talk too much, yet, okay?" she advised, stroking his forehead and cheeks with her free hand to calm him. He still had a fierce claim on her other hand and she was determined not to make him relinquish it, but the nurses bustled in and she was gently ushered out into the hall, despite her protests.
Reluctantly suppressing an urge to rush back in and demand her right to stay with him no matter what, Catherine headed for the nearby bank of phones instead.
-------------------------------
"He is? That's excellent, Catherine. Right. We'll meet you at his apartment in half an hour. I know. I know, but you can't do anything there right now and you're needed.... Alright. Yes. Fine. Good-bye."
Nick and Brass both stared at Gil until he put the phone down and turned to them. They had heard the hope and relief in his voice and it had buoyed their failing spirits as well. His next words did that twice over. "Greg is conscious, coherent and talking, though not much of the latter just yet."
"Thank God..." Brass breathed. "I hated leaving like I did last night..."
"You had another case. There was no choice."
Nick slumped in his chair, both hands over his face as he absorbed the good news and struggled with his emotions. When he gazed at the other two again, his joy was tempered by being reminded why he was really there. "Greg's recovery is a wonderful thing, Nick, but you have more to think about than that right now."
"I know..."
"If Hodges decides to press charges you could be knee deep in cow- pies by this time tomorrow, Texas." Brass warned him.
"The little butt-wipe as much as admitted he goaded Nick into it." Sara interjected in defense of her colleague.
"You weren't there to hear the exchange."
"No, but..."
"And Nick, for some reason, won't tell us what Hodges said."
"There's a good reason for that."
"Which would be?"
"I'm embarrassed, okay? The guy was bein' a major jerk, like always, an' in the heat a'the moment.... I felt like I was standin' up for somebody who couldn't stand up for themselves."
"And in retrospect?"
"What he said sounds as stupid and childish as it actually was. I know it was wrong to punch him, damn it.... it just felt so good!"
"I'm sure it did, but you know how it works. Whoever gives us the full story first, with details, will likely be the one to get the benefit of the doubt. Just tell us what he said." Brass told him, smiling lightly.
Nick hesitated, a flush of renewed anger rising in his face, but he surrendered eventually.
"He.... he asked me how Greg was doing, except he called him "heavy metal boy", with that same sneer that always makes me wanna smack it off his face...."
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TBC.....
-----------------
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT:
"Nick?"
Startled out of dark, morose thoughts, Nick Stokes instinctively batted away the gentle hand on his shoulder and swiftly rose to his feet, sending his chair skittering toward the wall.
"Grissom. Hey... I'm so sorry. You caught me off-guard."
"No harm done. At least you struck with the un-casted hand."
"Yeah." Nick said, gazing briefly at his injury.
"Preoccupied.... or something else?" Gil asked as he retrieved the chair and both men sat down.
"Else... I guess. Wishin' I'd said no to the pain meds last night. They.... they make it hard to wake up."
"Nightmares."
"Nasty suckers, too. I haven't had these ones in... almost twelve years. It's funny how your memory kinda.... puts bad stuff in storage after a while, at least while you're awake. The colors get dimmer, details get fuzzy..... when you sleep, though, it comes back clear an' bright... sickening as the night it happened."
"Nicky..."
"Why does shit like this have to happen, Gris? An' always to sweet kids like Greg...."
"And you."
"I'm no kid." Nick sighed, sweeping his uninjured hand over his face.
"You were when you were assaulted. Greg will come back to the world eventually, Nick. When he does, he'll need someone who understands what he's feeling and thinking."
"Not if he's thinking what I was after... after it happened."
"Which was?"
"Verbatim? The way I remember it, there were two or three cops standin' around, and my first coherent thought was 'I wonder if I'm fast enough to grab one of their guns and blow my brains out before anybody can stop me?' "
Grissom dropped his chin to his chest for a moment, absorbing the frightening statement, then he glanced up again.
"I'm glad you suppressed the impulse. You're still not coming with us tonight?"
"Nah. I told you, I'd feel like I was violating him all over again."
"I understand, but this may be the only way for us to find out where he was last night, which could lead us to his rapists."
"I get that. I just.... can't. I'm gonna switch out with Warrick and take over the case he was workin' with Sara."
"He's brought you up to speed?"
"As of start of shift tonight."
After a deep breath and a few seconds of silence, Grissom nodded, rose and left the break-room. Nick followed a few minutes later, intending to hit the morgue for an update on the body, but his distraction caused him to literally bump into the person he least wanted to see.
"Sorry, Hodges."
"I doubt it." the other man grumbled. A smile soon broke out on his face, however. "Hey, how's heavy-metal boy, anyway?"
"What?"
"Sanders. I heard he ended up in the ER. Did his bong explode or was it his eardrums? I wouldn't be surprised if it was both simultaneously. Maybe the Hell's Angels beat him up for daring to listen to anything but techno...."
Silent, Nick turned to face Hodges squarely and expressed his displeasure by thrusting his cast into the other man's midsection. After a moment to appreciate the reaction, he used the cast to uppercut, then forcefully back-hand the irritant into submission. Hodges crashed into the wall then dropped to the floor, wheezing and bleeding from the mouth. Nick spat a few terse words, stepped over the inert form and continued on his way, shaking his hand and cursing under his breath.
"He was raped you ignorant, arrogant asshole! Stupid son of a bitch...."
Hearing the blows and the thump of someone hitting the ground, Sara came running from a nearby room and stopped dead at the sight of Hodges laid out in front of her.
"What the hell..."
"S... Stokes.... he hit me!"
"And your contribution was..."
"Nothing!"
"Uh-huh."
"I made some comment about... about Sanders. How was I sh'pposed to know wha' happened to 'im? Noone bovered to tell me!" he slurred, his words swiftly losing their form as his jaw swelled.
"Yeah... I can't understand why." She snapped, turning to walk away.
"Hey.... help me...."
"There's a first aid kit in the break-room. Go clean yourself up and quit blocking the hallway. Better do it soon, too. The janitors might recognize you for the garbage you are and toss you in the dumpster out back."
-----------------------------
"You know I sent the report up a while ago."
"I know. I skimmed it. Thought I'd come down and see if there's anything new that didn't make it in there."
"Not really. How's the hand? Looks like you ran the cast into something."
"Nothin' I regret..."
"Uh-hmm. Somebody make a ill-considered comment about Greg?" the other man asked, tension suddenly coloring his voice.
"Yeah.... how'd you..."
"You're generally good about holding back on your anger. Situation like this.... might be the only thing that could get you to react without thinking it through or counting to ten first. Is the cast badly damaged?"
"Nah....just a little crack. It'll be okay. So there's nothin' more recent on the post? Nothing I need to know before I go out and do more work at the scene?"
"As I said in the report, there was very little damage to the body, internal or external. If he did fall, it wasn't from very high up. No higher than the second story probably. Cause of death was a massive heart attack."
"Okay. Thanks."
"No problem...." the older man replied, turning away to answer the phone. Nick hung around in case it was about his case, but when the ME hung up, Nick wished he'd left when he had the chance. "Grissom and Brass. They want you upstairs, pronto."
Nick grimaced and swore softly.
"I shoulda run like the wind right after it happened...."
"Yeah, you should have. Hodges.... he'll see you in a cell. Good God man, are you insane?"
"No. Tired and pissed and scared for Greg.... not much difference, I guess."
"At least you won't be alone."
"What?"
"Sara found him in the hall and apparently she wasn't much kinder verbally than you were physically."
"Crap...." Nick said, turning to head back to the upper level.
-----------------------------------
THE HOSPITAL:
Gently brushing a few strands of hair off Greg's forehead, Catherine glanced at her watch and frowned. Having only had an hour or two with him, she hated that she had to go but she was already late for shift. If Grissom hadn't allowed her to join the team examining Greg's apartment, she might have called and said she wasn't coming in, but her eagerness to catch the young man's attackers was almost as strong as her desire to stay by his side. Leaning in to place a soft kiss on his brow, she smiled at Greg and gripped his hand.
"I have to leave now, sweetheart. The investigation's kicking into high gear tonight. We'll get whoever did this, kiddo, I promise. Don't give up, okay? You hang on as tight as you can. You're gonna be fine..... just fine. I'll see you soon."
As she moved to lay his hand back on the bed, Greg's palm curled slightly around hers, anchoring her to the visitor's chair. Catherine suddenly gasped, wanting to believe what she'd felt, but not daring to think it might be real.
{God... can it be? It's too soon.... and he's too young to be so strong. Just maybe.... C'mon Greg.... if you're there show me....}
The questioning rasp of her name forced from a dehydrated throat confirmed the evidence of her fingers and her expression was a strange mix of joy and sorrow as his eyes found hers.
"Cath?"
"I'm here, Greg. I'm right here.... you're alright. Thank God..."
"Everything hurts.... I'm thirsty...."
"I know... I know. We'll fix that in just a minute. Hang on..." she reassured him, reaching for and pressing the button that would summon help.
"Where... where am I?"
"In the hospital."
"Hospital... what...."
"Shhhh. Don't try to talk too much, yet, okay?" she advised, stroking his forehead and cheeks with her free hand to calm him. He still had a fierce claim on her other hand and she was determined not to make him relinquish it, but the nurses bustled in and she was gently ushered out into the hall, despite her protests.
Reluctantly suppressing an urge to rush back in and demand her right to stay with him no matter what, Catherine headed for the nearby bank of phones instead.
-------------------------------
"He is? That's excellent, Catherine. Right. We'll meet you at his apartment in half an hour. I know. I know, but you can't do anything there right now and you're needed.... Alright. Yes. Fine. Good-bye."
Nick and Brass both stared at Gil until he put the phone down and turned to them. They had heard the hope and relief in his voice and it had buoyed their failing spirits as well. His next words did that twice over. "Greg is conscious, coherent and talking, though not much of the latter just yet."
"Thank God..." Brass breathed. "I hated leaving like I did last night..."
"You had another case. There was no choice."
Nick slumped in his chair, both hands over his face as he absorbed the good news and struggled with his emotions. When he gazed at the other two again, his joy was tempered by being reminded why he was really there. "Greg's recovery is a wonderful thing, Nick, but you have more to think about than that right now."
"I know..."
"If Hodges decides to press charges you could be knee deep in cow- pies by this time tomorrow, Texas." Brass warned him.
"The little butt-wipe as much as admitted he goaded Nick into it." Sara interjected in defense of her colleague.
"You weren't there to hear the exchange."
"No, but..."
"And Nick, for some reason, won't tell us what Hodges said."
"There's a good reason for that."
"Which would be?"
"I'm embarrassed, okay? The guy was bein' a major jerk, like always, an' in the heat a'the moment.... I felt like I was standin' up for somebody who couldn't stand up for themselves."
"And in retrospect?"
"What he said sounds as stupid and childish as it actually was. I know it was wrong to punch him, damn it.... it just felt so good!"
"I'm sure it did, but you know how it works. Whoever gives us the full story first, with details, will likely be the one to get the benefit of the doubt. Just tell us what he said." Brass told him, smiling lightly.
Nick hesitated, a flush of renewed anger rising in his face, but he surrendered eventually.
"He.... he asked me how Greg was doing, except he called him "heavy metal boy", with that same sneer that always makes me wanna smack it off his face...."
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TBC.....