Title: Notes
Chapter 2
Warnings: Dark!
Spoilers: This story takes place during the current season (Season 5), so anything during this season or earlier is fair game.
Author's Notes: This takes place three months prior to chapter 1! We'll be working our way toward the events leading to Nick's cryptic note from here on in. (Don't throw things. It's not nice!)
This is probably going to be pretty dark. I'm in the mood to write some major Nick angst. Also, I decided to write this in third person so that I can maintain a distance from Nick's inner thoughts. That way, I can build up his sense of isolation more effectively and get a look inside other characters' heads. And also, so I can be sneaky and not reveal what's going on!
Three Months Ago
Nick leans against his truck, clutching the creased and tattered piece of notebook paper in his left hand. His eyes scan the smudged words one more time. Soon, he'll have this thing learned by heart, committed to memory so it can haunt him in his sleep.
This is the end, Nick, the note says. I just can't do it anymore. This never should've happened in the first place. It's not fair to you, or to me.
Kicking at a stray pebble, Nick crushes the note into a mangled ball and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. He isn't in the mood for this kind of melodrama right now. He's got a shift to start, and God knows this job's usually filled with all the tragedy and excitement he can stomach.
Glancing up at his approaching supervisor, Nick summons up his game face and says, "Hey, Cath. Ready to rock and roll tonight?"
Catherine furrows her brow. "You've got to be kidding me," she grouses. "I was here two and a half hours late finishing up paperwork. Two and half hours, Nicky."
"Pitfalls of being a supervisor," Nick says, a pleasant but forced smile decorating his features.
Catherine glares at Nick over the top of her sunglasses. "Come on," she says, waving at him to follow. "We need our afternoon coffee."
Nick chuckles softly as he follows Catherine through the doors leading to the lab. Catherine's been his supervisor for a few weeks now, and they, along with Warrick, have managed to establish a pretty good rhythm. Still, Nick misses the old days. Life wasn't perfect then, but he was comfortable, and he'd learned how to handle Grissom's moods.
Catherine's moods, however… They're stormy and ever-changing, and some days, Nick feels like he's in a life raft, about to be pitched into the murky and chaotic sea.
"Hey, Nicky," Catherine says, as she and Nick round the corner into the break room. "Remind me to check with DNA tonight. I want to find out if the day shift dumped half their work on them again."
Tugging off his baseball cap, Nick slumps into a chair and releases a long breath. "Will do, Catherine," he says.
"Hey, you all right?" Catherine asks.
Nick shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be?"
As he watches Catherine fill a large mug with coffee, Nick feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He doesn't need to turn his head to know whose arm the hand is attached to. The cold shiver that shoots through his skin and bones is enough to tell him it's Ecklie.
"Hell of a job on the Maxwell case, Nick," Ecklie says. Nick can't see Ecklie's face, but he imagines that Ecklie's grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Nick clenches his jaw and says, "Thanks, Conrad."
Ecklie walks into Nick's line of sight and points his finger at Catherine. "You hang on to this one, Catherine," Ecklie says jovially. "He's a great CSI."
"You don't have to tell me," Catherine says. Crossing her arms, she leans against the edge of the counter and gazes evenly at Ecklie.
Chuckling, Ecklie says, "Well, I'll let you two get back to work." He raps on the table in front of Nick. "Keep up the good work."
Nick turns to watch Ecklie breeze out the door, and he realizes for the first time that Warrick is standing just inside the room. Ecklie nods at Warrick and mutters a greeting as he disappears into the hall.
Warrick gazes after Ecklie for several seconds, and then he ambles over to Nick. Clapping a hand onto Nick's shoulder, Warrick says, "Hell of a job on the Maxwell case, Nick."
"Shut up, Rick," Nick gruffs.
Warrick laughs and pats Nick on the shoulder. "Man can't take a compliment, Catherine."
"Apparently not," Catherine smirks.
Nick's mind searches for a snappy comeback, but he comes up blank. Something great will come to him a half an hour from now when he no longer needs it.
As Nick ponders his inability to make witty retorts, Grissom darts into the break room and snatches an empty mug. "Hello, Catherine," he says cheerfully. "Nick. Warrick."
Narrowing her eyes, Catherine takes a step forward. "What the hell are you doing here, Grissom?"
Grissom stares at her, as if it should be obvious why he's here several hours before his shift starts. "I'm working," he says.
Catherine grimaces. "You're working? Why? What's going on?"
Grissom shrugs. "Bugs."
"What?"
"Bugs, Catherine."
"So, what…are you staying?"
Grissom lets out a breath. "Catherine, the dayshift had a db covered in insects, and they called me to consult. I'm going home after I have some coffee."
"Look, it just seems like you're here a lot."
Grissom cocks his head. "I have nothing better to do," he says.
Catherine opens her mouth to reply, but the beeping of her pager cuts her off. Setting her coffee cup on the table, Cath snatches the pager off the waistband of her jeans. Narrowing her eyes at the message on the screen, she lets out a breath and says, "Well, boys. We have a homicide. Coffee break's over."