Chapter Two

12 Hours later

A Fathers Love

He was one of the so-called lucky ones, sent home by the sheriff and told not to come back until Wednesday. His legs felt like they were made of lead, each step down the hall taking more energy than he really had left. He paused by Grissoms closed office door, and, at first, thought that the senior CSI had finally been drug home, until he heard the light murmuring coming from inside the office. He couldn't be sure, but Brass thought it was Gil and Catherine. Debating with himself, he finally decided to let them be, and forcing his leaded legs to begin to move again, he slowly made his way to his car.

He didn't go home. His car seemed to have a mind of its own, and drove him down side streets, finally pulling in and parking at a local bar, one that tourists hadn't yet invaded.

Shutting off the engine, he stayed behind the wheel. He needed a drink, but didn't need all the crap that went with it, and wished, not for the first time, that he wasn't an alcoholic.

So there he sat, behind the wheel of his department issued Taurus, seatbelt still fastened, hands tightly gripping the wheel, weighing his need for a drink against his need for several drinks.

Brass had no idea how much time had passed, until his eyes caught a flash of red and blue in the rear view mirror. He'd been there so long, someone had gotten worried and called the cops. With a small smile on his face, Brass dug out his shield and flashed it at the approaching uniform. The rookie, (and Brass was quiet sure he was a rookie, the face of the kid bending down into his window was still fresh, his eyes were still full of the dream of being a hero) apologized and asked if there was anything he could do for the Captain. Brass almost laughed. Almost. Then he told the kid not to worry, he was headed home, and reached for the key to start the engine.

He went home, checked his answering machine only to find a blinking zero. He'd been foolish to have any hope that Ellie would have called. Nicks kidnapping had made national news, and he'd harbored a secret hope that Ellie would have seen it and…

And he didn't know what. Come to her senses; realize that he'd done the best he could. Forgive him even.

He knew that he was searching for something good to come of this. And for him, the only good was Ellie.

Dragging himself to his bedroom, he lay down on his bed still fully clothed. The shirt and pants he'd put on God knows how long ago were already past saving, and his tie was long gone, lost somewhere amid the chaos of a frantic search and shattered hopes.

He held his breath, lying there in the comfort of his own bed, trying to image what Nick had gone though, held it so long, that his lungs defied him, expanding themselves, pulling in air in great gasps.

He lay there, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. And he wondered to himself, if it'd been his daughter locked up, turned into all the things that Kelly Gordon had said she was now, would he have taken revenge? Could he have?

God, he needed a drink.

TBC…

Thank you, Swede85, Nancy, and krysalys Your words were both kind and encouraging. I hope you find the rest of the story just as enjoyable. - Sunset