Title: When the Lightning Strikes
Author: DarkDreamer56
Archive: If you want it, ask please!
Rating: T
Pairing: N/S
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing but CSI Seasons 2-4 on DVD (I'm holding out for the reissue of Season 1), a paperback collection of Harry Potter books 1-5, and way too many pairs of shoes.

A/N: This is just a one shot, an idea that came to me a couple nights ago while I was lying out in the backyard. It kind of morphed into something different than I originally planned, but then, don't most things? Hope you enjoy!


Nick didn't often have the chance, living in Las Vegas, to witness a thunderstorm blowing through his backyard. But now, it seemed all he had was time on his hands, and with the clouds looming in the distance, he found himself gazing up at the sky from the hammock in his backyard. Ever since the kidnapping, Nick had felt more comfortable outdoors than trapped between walls, so he often found himself out in his backyard, staring up into the expanse of sky; it made everything seem just a little bit more open, and made him breathe a little bit easier.

Nick watched the midnight thunderstorm steadily move towards the neighborhood, the dark clouds flashing with lightning every so often, as if to remind everyone who witnessed it of the powerful rage within the fluffy confines. Nick couldn't help but smirk at the parallels he felt to his own life. He had always been the happy-go-lucky, upbeat one of the team, and usually that was representative of how he had felt inside. But sometimes, Nick felt a quiet rage bubbling towards the surface; no one could be happy all the time seeing what he had seen, going through what he had. Sometimes it came out in short bursts, surprising the people in its path, but in the past Nick had been able to successfully contain it. Something changed after he was buried underground though, he had lost the willingness to try and control it; it took energy that he just didn't have.

He had begun to lash out at people, mostly the ones closest to him. He had yelled, screamed, and cried more times than he could count. A few times he even punctuated his point by hurling something across the room; usually an empty glass, and once, a basket that contained "Get Well" and "Thinking of You" cards from well wishers. Apparently, Hallmark didn't make an "I'm Glad You Didn't Suffocate or Get Stung to Death by Fire Ants" card. But as much as he raged, his friends took it quietly. They sat, not even bothering with the empty platitudes that most tried to offer, taking in all of his words one by one before getting up to clean up whatever mess he had made. Nick was both grateful and infuriated by this.

He understood that Warrick was still punishing himself for winning the fateful coin toss, and Sara and Greg were punishing themselves for the distance in their friendships with Nick before the kidnapping. Sometimes, like when he heard Sara sniffling as she swept up broken shards of glass, or when he saw the briefest flash of hurt in Greg's eyes as Nick screamed about something that didn't really matter, Nick felt guilty that he was putting his friends through that, knowing that they wouldn't scream back, or call him on his behavior. Most of the time, though, he was just too tired to try and change.

So that left him alone in his backyard, staring up at the ominous clouds in the distance, wondering how he would ever get things back on track, and more importantly, whether or not he even wanted to try. The clouds flashed with lightning, occasionally accompanied by a rumble of thunder, as the storm moved closer.

Nick was so lost in the sky that he didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore, until he felt the hammock bounce, and seconds later, a small warm body rolled into his. Nick fought the urge to jump, and instead turned his head to see who had attacked. He found Sara, smiling sheepishly as she tried to move away.

"Sorry, I guess I misjudged that one," she apologized quietly.

Nick replied, "It's okay," as he surprised them both by wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her flush with his side. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight…the lab that slow?"

Sara squirmed a few times, trying to get comfortable on the hammock. She finally settled, resting her head against Nick's shoulder, resting her left arm somewhat tentatively across his stomach. Nick was surprised at the warmth emanating from Sara's body. It had been a long time since he had felt anything but cold, even the nights that Catherine or Sara sat with him, sometimes holding him or stroking his hair until he fell asleep.

"It was my night off, so I picked up a shift for Catherine and Warrick on Swing," Sara mumbled softly, trying to suppress a yawn.

Nick tensed as she mentioned work, turning his head, but unwilling to lose the warmth she provided by rolling away. "How's my replacement?" he asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice; it didn't work.

"He's not your replacement; Matt is just helping out until you're cleared for field work again. Just like me, and Greg. No one could replace you Nick."

Nick felt her tense beside him, and he knew that she was bracing herself for another of his outbursts. He couldn't deny that he wanted to let loose with a few choice words about the work situation, but for some reason he just couldn't do it. Glancing over at Sara told him why. She was curled up against him, eyes closed, and the most exhausted expression he had ever seen on her face. So instead, he drew her closer to his side, running his hand up and down her arm. Sara sighed when she realized that this wasn't going to be the beginning of an argument, and relaxed beside him.

"So what brings you to visit tonight?"

Sara shrugged. "It's been a few days, and I didn't really want to go home. So I figured I'd see what you were up to." The days where Nick had company 24/7 had ended several weeks ago, but he noticed that more often than not, someone showed up nearly every night or morning after shift. It didn't really matter when, seeing as sleep didn't come very easily or often anymore. And it had been a few days since the last time he saw Sara. "So what exactly are you doing?"

"Watching the thunderstorm roll in. When I was a kid, I used to lie out in the backyard and watch them roll in over the ranch."

"Yeah, I used to run down the beach a lot, when storms would blow through, watching them come in over the bay…"

Nick furrowed his brow. "I thought you grew up in Modesto…isn't that, like four hours from the beach?"

Sara tensed beside him again, and her answer came out in a whisper. "Two and a half actually. My foster parents owned a bed and breakfast in Tomales, and when I wasn't helping out or studying, I spent a lot of time on the beach…it was peaceful."

Nick was both surprised by this revelation, and the fact that Sara even chose to share it with him; she had always been a mystery to everyone in that respect, hardly ever talking about anything before college. Still, he knew better than to make a big deal about it, and instead he pulled her closer, feeling her arm settle a little more comfortably around his waist as she realized he wasn't going to question her.

"So you liked thunderstorms too? I loved them growing up, the thunder and lightning, the sound of rain against the roof of the barn…"

"Actually I hated them. Scared me to death."

Nick was confused. "So why the hell did you run to the beach?"

Sara sighed. "I'm not really sure. I think part of me was trying to get over the fear of them, and the other part was probably hoping I'd get struck by lightning or something." She laughed nervously, and suddenly Nick thought that she seemed very small lying next to him. "I was messed up for a long time. I think, with the storms….it was all the noise." Her brow furrowed, and Nick could tell she was remembering something. "There was always noise at my house…always someone yelling, usually my dad. I guess I always associated the two."

Nick rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "We can go in if you want…"

She turned to him and smiled. "No, it's okay. I'm not afraid of them anymore."

"What changed?" he whispered, both intrigued and unsettled by the entire conversation.

"My foster mom…she was really religious, which was totally different than what I grew up with; lapsed Catholics turned hippie fringe. Anyways…one time, I was at the kitchen table, working on some homework when one of the thunderstorms rolled through, and I guess she could tell that I was kind of freaked. So she told me that rain was God's tears, and the thunder and lightning were just his way of letting everyone know what was coming. I was thirteen, and already a science nerd, so I just kind of rolled my eyes and went back to my homework…but then she said that if it was okay for God to cry, then he probably wouldn't mind if I cried too. I always remembered that."

"Oh Sara," Nick whispered, catching the hitch in her voice somewhere in the middle. He felt a stray tear or two hit his shoulder as another crack of thunder sounded somewhere in the distance.

"Bad things happen, Nick. They happen to all of us…some are worse than others, but they happen." Nick couldn't help but wonder what bad things had happened to her that she ended up in foster care. "And you change, you can't go back to the person you were before. But it took me a long time to realize…we get a choice in how we let them change us."

Nick could feel the tears in his own eyes once he realized where the conversation was going. He refused to look, feeling Sara's tears mix with the light sprinkle of rain that signaled the approaching storm.

"Nick, I'm scared about how this is going to change you, how it's already changed you. You're so angry all the time…I know that there are things going on inside of your head that we could never understand, we'll never know what you went through down there…"

"But taking it out on you guys isn't the way to deal with it…I know that Sara, I know, but sometimes I just get so damn mad," Nick replied, his voice betraying the tears dangerously close to the surface.

Sara grabbed Nick's free hand with the hand draped around him, entwining their fingers and squeezing gently. Her voice was barely a whisper; Nick had to strain to hear it over the wind blowing through his back yard. "Walter Gordon, he took you away from us once, and it was one of the worst moments of my life…of all of our lives. And there was nothing you could do about that…but you have a choice this time, Nick. Please…don't let us lose you again."

The sincerity and desperation in her voice killed Nick. He choked on a sob before turning and burying his head in her shoulder, tears spilling down his cheeks. She immediately disentangled their fingers and wrapped her arms around his shaking body, soothing him as tears quietly poured down her face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when he was finally able to take control of his voice again. He wasn't sure how long they lay together on the hammock, but Nick could hear the cracks of thunder getting closer to his backyard with each flash of lightning. "I guess I was just waiting for someone to say something. I knew I was pushing you guys, but I wasn't sure how far it would go…"

"I was afraid too, for awhile," Sara admitted, still rubbing her hand up and down his back, "I thought if anyone said something, then you would just shut down, and stop talking to us. The yelling, well it was better than bottling everything up inside."

"And now?"

"I'm afraid that if someone didn't say something soon, that we'd lose you all over again. It's okay to be angry Nick…"

"I just have to learn to control it?" he finished weakly. Sara gave him a small smile as she nodded. "Sar…I, I don't want to lose you either."

"Hey," she admonished gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, alright? Except maybe inside, it's starting to rain and I don't have a change of clothes with me." Her statement ended with a small smirk as she tried to disentangle herself from Nick and stand up.

"I don't know…I bet I have a tee shirt or two that would look pretty good on you," Nick teased lightly, marveling at how easy it was to slip back into playful banter mode with Sara; it was one of the things he loved about their friendship, the way that they could go from serious to light in a matter of seconds, without the awkwardness generally associated with the heavier subjects.

Sara rolled her eyes, but held out her hand so Nick could pull himself out of the hammock. Rain droplets were beginning to fall steadily; it was only a matter of time before the skies opened up and poured out their contents on Nick's neighborhood. As they made a run for the house, Sara's hand still fully grasping Nick's, he made a decision: it was time that he left the raging to the storms. It wouldn't be easy, but as they leapt up the steps of his back porch, Nick realized with a small smile that he wouldn't have to do it alone.

FIN.