Pain and New Hope

Pairing: It's mostly about Nick, but it will be a Snickers story at the end.

Spoiler: Stalker

After Nigel Crane's arrest, Brass takes a shaken up and sleepy Nick to the police station.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI characters or extras.

The Ride to the Police Station

The medication finally kicked in while Brass walked me to his car and helped me in. I fell asleep as Brass pulled out of my driveway, but not before listening to Brass have a conversation with Grissom.

"Gil, this is Jim," Brass said. "Nigel Crane has just been apprehended."

"Jim, that's great!" Grissom said on the other line. "How's Nick?"

"He is pretty shaken up," Brass said. "Right now, he looks like he is about to pass out. The poor guy is exhausted."

Brass gently woke me up when we arrived at the station. I got out of his car and had difficulty orienting myself. I felt like I was going to collapse in the parking lot. Brass gently held my arm for stability and walked with me to the station. Once we were inside, I sat on the couch for a few moments while Brass went to another place in the building. A few moments later, he went to get me so we could go to the interrogating room.

"Nicky, are you sure you want to do this?" Brass asked knowing the hell that I was just put through before.

"Yeah, I have to do it," I said.

Brass helped me off the couch and we walked over the interrogation room. Grissom, Warrick, Catherine and Sara were already there. They gently embraced me so my cracked ribs wouldn't feel the impact of further jarring. I was happy to see them, but I was scared of facing my stalker.

"Nick, you can see Nigel," Warrick said in a reassuring tone with a hint of guilt. "However, he can't see you. He can only see a reflection of himself."

"Thanks, man," I said.

We looked at Nigel babbling something in repetition. This was the man that killed Jane Galloway and Morris Pearson. He pushed me out of a second story window and nearly killed me with my own gun. This monster destroyed Ms. Galloway's sense of security and scared the living shit out of me.

"Why me?" I asked.

Grissom tried to rationalize my situation with his special blend of his philosophies combined with someone else's, preferably a famous dead philosopher's. That didn't do much to make me feel any better psychologically.

"Twenty-five to life, it's over, Nick," Sara said.

"It's not over for me," I said softly. "It's over for Jane Galloway."

TBC