Title: Reborn

Author: CryssieM

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the show, all credit goes to CBS and the writers of CSI.

Spoilers: set after Grave Danger, so spoilers for this ep.

Rating: PG13

Summary: POV Nick after rescuing him. Will he survive? How to go on from here? (NS) , W/S, W/Nfriendship

Note: I slightly altered the end of Grave Danger - concerning who accompanies Nick in the ambulance.
This is my first CSI fanfic, I'm not sure if I should go on with it, it depends on you. Apologizes for the possible grammar mistakes, you know English isn't my mother language...

Landing on the ground I try to open my eyes, but after that pitchy darkness the tiniest ray of light could blind me. So I rather keep them shut. I cough and choke, the fresh night air stings my lungs after having been trapped in the plexi-box for hours long. Lying on my stomach, I can feel the coldness of the ground.

Sinking into that coldness forever wasn't far at all. I'm sure I was close to the door of death. Never any closer.

I'm not a wussy guy, I have never been. Never got frightened by the sight of a gun raised at me. The possiblity of getting shot didn't really bring the thought of dying as close as realizing to be buried alive in some glassy coffin and have hardly any chance of escaping.

That bastard wanted me to die there six feet under... He almost managed to drag me away from my family for good...

The image of my mum's terrified, teary face flashes through my mind. I can see the pain in her eyes - so intense and enormous fear she never deserved. I also see my father supporting her - his expression is stony, but I know deep inside he shares my mother's terror. He always was so strong, not letting his face mirror his emotions.

I could curse loudly, but only some whimpers escape my mouth as I start sobbing, my tears hitting the ground.

That son-of-a-bitch... causing such an extreme fright to my parents that I love more than my own life...

I can't control my body, I'm too exhausted to fight against the tears.

I just realize that I can't recall the last time I told my parents that I loved them. Though I should have. With a job like this you may never know what happens to you next day. Your life is on stake every day. My parents accepted my decision about working as a CSI and I've just understood how much strength did they need each day to approve my resolution. The proof of their love... And I...

My tortured body is shaking as crying overwhelms me. The salty tears are stinging the wounds on my face. It hurts like hell. I wince in pain. Dirt mixes with my tears making my cheeks muddy. My hands weakly, but desperately endeavour to clutch to the ground, hold on to something just to feel I'm alive. The dirt sticks onto the fresh, yet bloody and exposed wounds on my skin. It burns like fire, I could scream, but I have no strength to do that either.

I hear voices from somewhere far- it's like still being under the ground. Firm, urging orders, sirens of police-cars, rushing noises... Someone yells for the ambulance, the voice is somehow familiar, but all these voices blending together make impossible for me to figure out whom does it belong.

Tension starts to subside in my muscules, however I'm still terribly shocked.

Paramedics gather around me and are preparing me for the little trip to the hospital. From dark hell back to light again. I lay limp on the ground, letting them do their job on me - there's nothing more I can do. I drift into my thoughts - images are flashing through my exasperated mind. Childhood memories, my family - parents, siblings, friends... my job... My whole life... I was so close to lose this all.

I sigh in mind.

Today I realized how much life does worth.

People tend to talk about their everydays as if they were granted. And how mistaken they are! I should know that - I deal with life-and-death issues day by day. Even though I couldn't value what I have in my hands either. Being so close to the end I've realized how many things I missed to do.

I hear the doors shutting with a thud and realize that I'm already in the ambulance. The driver starts the engine and sirens scream into the night. I almost drift off to sleep when I hear someone's murmur from beside me.

"Hold on, Poncho, you must hold on!"

I recognize my CSI supervisor's worried voice immediately. I want to reply him, but my throath is dried and muscules are too weary and weak to obey my mind's orders. So I just remain silent, but thank him in thought. I'm forever grateful to Grissom for believing in me and not letting me down.

"Nicky, we need you," a female voice whispers and I feel a hand stroking my hair.

Catherine, I smile in mind recognizing the woman beside me. I don't need to open my eyes to tell that she's extremely anxious. I know her desperate expression - we've worked on several cases together, I had time to get know the woman behind the CSI mask. I know I can count on her - she is always there for anyone in our team. She's the second boss after Grissom. They are a perfect pair of supervisors. And now they are here on my side.

I feel my eyes getting watery at the thought that they care for me so much. The CSI team... my second family. Warrick, my great buddy, Greg, the never-grow-up labrat, and Sara...

Tiredness overwhelms me and I can't help but welcoming sleep eventually. But the last image I see in my mind before drifting off is her face. And I know there was a reason why I must have survived...