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The voice at the other end was unsteady and unsure. She had heard about the incident, nearly every law enforcement department had. However, she hadn't known it was Nick. When his voice broke on the line, she handed off her case to a colleague and headed to the airport. Within a few hours, she was on a plane from Reno to Vegas and drove directly to his house.

On the way there, she finally got a hold of Grissom. She had called him the instant she hung up with Nick. She needed to know exactly what happened. He filled her in while she waited at the airport. It was only a month ago, and the memories were fresh. He told her about the case that started it all, how the evidence was planted at a fake crime scene, and how the bastard blew himself to pieces without giving up any clues. She listened as Grissom described the camera on Nicky's face throughout the whole ordeal. How he was tortured with light and air, nearly eaten alive by fire ants. He described this as only a scientist could...detached, specific. Kayla suspected the feelings simmering at the surface, but kept the conversation to the facts. How was Nick? Were the physical wounds healed? Had he started therapy? Grissom answered every question, but she knew that nothing would prepare her for the challenge ahead. The circumstances may have been different, but the fear, anger and frustration were all the same.

She knocked on his door and waited patiently while he padded to the front and swung it open. She had steeled herself for what she would find, but barely contained her gasp. He looked like hell. Deep bags had taken residence under his eyes, and the wounds from the ants were pink and puffy. His hair was tousled and he had grown what looked like more than a few five o'clock shadows. Nick Stokes never grew a beard or goatee in his life.

He looked at her sheepishly, almost embarrassed that he had called her. That she had to see him like this. He silently stood aside while she walked in, rolling her bag behind her. She took in the scene of his apartment. Every window open, shades either pulled back or pulled off completely and lying in a pool on his floor. The tv was blaring mindless entertainment. Walking in further, she peeked into his bedroom to see an immaculately made bed that she suspected he hadn't slept in in days. The couch, however, showed obvious signs of wear. A crocheted blanket with a Texan Longhorn logo was tossed across two cushions, and the pillows were rearranged in a way that would let him stretch out fully.

The nights that followed were long. It took Kayla a few days to adjust to his schedule. She was soon sleeping during the days, however, neither got more than a few hours of sleep at a time. She would settle down in his bed, with him staring vacantly at the tv from the couch. It was only a matter of time before his screams tore her from her sleep. The nightmares were torment for both of them. Kayla never told Nick, but after a few days of talking him down from the walls, her own, long-buried nightmares returned.

She tried her best not to hover. When his friends and co-workers stopped by, Kayla used that time to get out of the house, get some fresh air and fresh groceries. Nick's eating habits had gone downhill, and she was determined to get him back on track. She took to cooking their meals. They mostly ate at his house, only venturing out once in a while. He was self conscious about the scars that were still healing on his face, feeling like everyone who looked at him knew exactly who he was. That day he awoke sobbing while Kayla cooked soup, they had finally gone for a long walk in the park.