Chapter 7 by Kristen

Nick stared at the door, imagining what the inside looked like, how it felt. It was a strange thing to be contemplating, but if he didn't make himself continue with this exercise, then he would be forced to deal with what he would deem a lack of progress.

Two weeks. It had been fourteen days since...well...since the incident. Three hundred and thirty-six hours ago to this very day. His house was empty, void of the endless stream of house guests and visitors. After a week, he had refused to let anyone continue to spend the night. He had to learn to deal with the solitude of being a bachelor again.

To say it had been difficult was an understatement. Nick had walked the very fine line of wanting the comfort of his friends around him, to longing for the ability to be his old self again. The Nick who lived alone without problems, without the constant struggle of trying to find that elusive state of "normal."

So, instead of nightly houseguests, his friends just stopped by on a constant bases to see how he was doing, or to hang out. Between all the visits, Nick was very rarely ever alone. Nick felt like he was under scrutiny ... of course his coworkers were only concerned about him. However, all it did was put a spotlight on everything he tired so hard to forget.

For example his recent therapy sessions came to mind. Three times a week, he had to talk to his doctor, and most of the time it was just him fiddling around in his chair. His therapist tried to pry into every facet of his life that was effected by his ordeal. Nick didn't understand how all this digging into his psyche was going to help him get past things. Despite his objections, if he ever wanted to go back to work, Nick would do whatever his doc asked.

Which is what brought him to his current predicament. Nick was supposed to simply open the closet door, close it, and stand there.

"Enough of this." He said to no one in particular. Nick took a deep breath, counted to three, opened his hall closet, and stomped in.

Then he closed the door.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but after a few seconds, he realized that there was no light at all to focus on. It was pitch black, a tiny crack of light came through from the bottom of the door. It wasn't even enough to even allow him to make out any shapes. Of course this was a tiny amount of space. His back was against some of his coats, and he tried to keep from tripping over a few pairs shoes stashed away.

He was supposed to stay in here for five solid minutes, then exit and write down anything he felt while inside. Well, it had now been about a minute... it seemed like a minute. Nick clicked on his cell phone to look at the time. The blue glow from the screen cast eerie shadows around.

His heart quickened at the sight of the light. For someone reason his entire body tensed up a bit, the hair along the back of his neck stood on end. Nick swallowed and tried a few of the calming techniques his doctor had taught him.

Two minutes, according to his clock. One hundred and twenty seconds and the nerves along his body were starting to fire off warning signals. This wasn't a very good sign. Nick began humming to himself, when he started to feel jittery. He had mastered the art of the quick shower, but this whole enclosed space thing was really starting to get to him.

His breathing was more rapid, and shallow, but he wasn't on the floor in a tiny little ball. That was progress right?

Four minutes had passed. He swallowed, as he tried not to think about how close the inside interior of the door was. It wasn't plastic, not like that damn box. He was safely behind his own closet...surrounded by the walls of his house. He felt a little trickle of sweat drip down his forehead. It was dry in here, stuffy.

Before his heart starting to increase he looked down. Five minutes, and his hands were all ready turning the doorknob.

He bolted back into his hallway, his heart pounded, his ears filled with the rapid intake of his harsh breathing.

Nick clapped his hands together and nodded to himself. "No problem, Stokes." He said to no one. He glanced at his pale white reflection in the mirror and ignored the shiver it sent down his body.

He did it. The task wasn't easy, but he'd write down how he felt.

Maybe not every detail.

Progress. He had made progress... yes, indeed.

He marched over to his counter and looked over the list of tasks written there.

Go out into busy public places. Check.

Stand alone inside closet for five minutes. Check

Sleep in own bed.

Nick stared at that next assignment. They were after all, just challenges. He could do them. The pen in his hand wavered only slightly. He looked around his living room, and let it slip out of his fingers.

Maybe he could try to overcome that task tomorrow.

One week after his attempt at being in a tight, enclosed space, Nick was getting closer to one issue had had yet been able to accomplish. Sara had driven him to his doctor's appointment. He was always with one of his coworkers, he was never alone. His therapist had felt that when Nick had finished each session that he was too anxious or on edge to drive himself home safely. Until it was deemed that the counseling was not effecting him to a point where he wasn't overly rattled, then he could drive himself.

Soon, but not now. This was one of those obstacles that Nick had written down on his list of things to regain himself. His doc felt the list was a decent idea, of course his therapist wasn't quite sure how much the CSI had revolved his life around this piece of paper. It was viewed as symbol of what he called his old life.

Now he stood in his living room, around a myriad of shopping bags that littered his dining room table. Sara Sidle was unwrapping several large candles that they had purchased together after his last session. She would remove the tissue paper, stiff each candle, smile, then set it down next to all the others.

Nick wanted to get back on to his regular sleeping schedule. The biggest news that he had learned from work was the reformation of the old team. The graveyard shift had been expanded to include two new criminalists and Catherine and Grissom ran the team together. This meant when he went back to work, Nick would once again be on nights.

He would return to work with the people he enjoyed being around, and he wanted to get his body back to sleeping during the day. The Texan had forgone sleep yesterday so he would be tired when he got back from his excursion. It wasn't exactly a difficult thing to accomplish.

He was constantly plagued by nightmares and woke up in a cold sweat. It was one of the reasons he couldn't take haveing people spend the night anymore. He didn't want to subject them to his night terrors, and he really didn't want people to know how often they occured. When he did sleep, it was actually just a series of many short naps. Nick had yet to sleep an entire eight hours without the aid of medication, but if you added up all the little bits of shut eye, it had to count.

Just another level in his ten step program to becoming normal again.

Nick surpressed a yawn and Sara eyed him with a glint in her eye.

"Do you want help setting these up?"

Nick actually gave her a grin. "Do you think you could control yourself in my bedroom?"

Sara rewarded Nick was a quick jab to his shoulder. He mocked being hurt and smiled one of his million watt charmers.

"I can't believe I'm using scented candles," he complained as he took a huge stack of them to his bedroom.

"Aromatherapy Nick, it supposed to help." Sara tried to encourage as she followed him.

She placed several ones on his chest of drawers and his night stand.

Nick arranged them in some kind of pattern and sighed. "I guess."

The candles had served a dual purpose. His therapist had recommended them for their soothing properties as well as a source of light. Nick was still not comfortable in pitch blackness, which was needed to sleep during daylight hours. Any amount of lamps were other too bright, or just plain annoying.

Candles had been the supposed answer. Nick stepped back from the five he had arranged, and gave his friend an unconvinced expression.

"I'll try anything," he murmured softly.

Sara put her hand on his shoulder and Nick closed his eyes. Sara had lost count how many times she had reassured the man in front of her, that things would be all right. That he needn't set goals that were too high or push himself to hard. He always just brushed her concern away and she would always leave feeling worse about the situation.

Sara didn't go home and cry every night after spending time with Nick Stokes. No, she only allowed her feelings to get to her in her sleep, when even her mind wasn't aware the true nature of her own torment. She was as cheerful as she would ever be around the man. They shared breakfast, polite conversation, and dozens of movies together. She looked up at Nick who seemed too hesitant, too scared over the thought of sleeping in his own bed.

She pulled him closer and gave him a long hug. His chin rested on her shoulder, and she rubbed her hands up and down his back. This was the most progress Nick had made in the last few weeks, but there was something about his demeanor or the way he phrased his words that made her very uncomfortable.

She quickly pulled away from him, and saw the pure determination in his eyes.

"Call me if you need anything."

Sara was always rushing off when things became too much. He was kind of glad, because he wasn't sure if he could handle someone else's problems. Even if he was the cause of them.

Nick didn't give her an answer, just a quick nod. She let herself out and he was alone again.

All of a sudden he felt very drained and he got ready for sleep. Nick lit some of the candles and crawled into bed. It felt strange when his weight caused the mattress to creak. He curled up on his side, sans sleeping pills, minus anit-anxiety medication. No, he was going to this on his own.

The glow from the candles was not exactly the cure all he had been seeking. However, they were soft, and filled the room with a sense of warmth. After two hours, he couldn't keep his heavy eyelids open anymore and drifted off to sleep.

Three weeks. Twenty-one days. Five hundred and four hours.

Nick Stokes had fallen asleep in his own bed. He had only gone four hours when he woke with a start in a cold sweat. He stumbled out of his bedroom, and grabbed a bottle of water out of his fridge. He drank the cool liquid and let out a long sigh.

He wandered barefoot over to his counter and marked off the current obstacle on his path. He may not have slept the whole night, but he did drift off in his own bed. Something he had not accomplished in a long time.

He placed the check next to that task with a small, hollow smile.

It was after all some progress and that was all that mattered to him.

Nick looked at his watch. He had several hours till Warrick's usual after shift visit. Nick tried to recall if Greg was tagging along or if he had a date with one of the new lab techs. His weekly reports of the newest array of lovely women, made Nick chuckle sometimes. Greg had invited him out to hang out with a small group of them, but he just wasn't in a sociable mood.

In retrospect, it was perhaps that he wasn't in the mood to hang out with new CSI employees. These were people he had never meet before. He was sure they knew all about him, and that was what made the subject such a moot point. His life had been on the cover of many newspapers. Nick was absolutely sure he was a main subject of gossip at work. He didn't want to be the center of attention at some social gathering or ...ever. He'd accept the weariness of being whispered about when he returned to to the Lab, but not right now.

His therapist thought perhaps he was being a bit paranoid. That after nearly five weeks his coworkers would have better things to discuss. In the back of the Nick's mind, he knew that his antics in the box were just too juicy to pass up. He was sure his team mates didn't let slip some of his more troubling ordeals, but that meant with a void like that, certain employees would just make up the rest.

Nick was in normal street clothes. A long sleeved red shirt, a comfortable set of jeans, and he grabbed a light weight jacket, with the words Foresincs printed in the top right shoulder. He even grabbed his hat with the same words on the front of it. It was like wearing his normal clothes for work, and this next "challenge" was one of the last he felt he needed to overcome.

He grabbed his gun and checked the safety before sliding it in his holster. He glanced at his watch, just a bit past 4 a.m. The criminalist entered his truck, adjusted the dial to an old country and western station, and drove to his destination. He had been cruising around a lot this week. He no longer needed a 'baby-sitter' along with his sessions of late.

He left his therapist's office with much less anxiety. No more trembling hands, or fits of depression that were often followed by utter silence. This always caused who ever's turn it was to accompany him, to feel even more anxious around him.

Nick drove along, maneuvering his vehicle past the little amount of traffic past the strip. His mind was very acutely focused on what he had to do tonight. His first evaluation to return to work was next week. If he received a clean mill of mental health, then he could return back to his job within a few days.

Six weeks. By the seventh week, he could be back to his routine before his life had been thrown into a black pit of chaos. Nick noticed the parking lot and slowly pulled in. His adrenaline started to surge through his body, and he stepped out from the truck, as casually as possible. He scanned the area, no one else was here and he pressed the little button to his remote and locked he truck.

His feet crunched on the asphalt as he took in the area. He placed his hand above his hip. The butt of his gun felt reassuring against his fingers. Nick continued walking past the street lights, and inched closer to the alleyway. The CSI cast a backwards look behind him, no movement around. Only silence surrounded him. He licked dry lips, his deep brown eyes taking in every detail in front of him.

He stopped for a moment and looked down at the ground, noting all old the tar and concrete. There was nothing out of the ordinary around. Cigarette butts littered the ground, an old discarded coke bottle rolled a little with the breeze. Nick took a long deep breath, and walked some more.

He came across the edge of the alley, near a familiar rail. He lowered himself to his haunches, and looked at the empty space in front of him. Nick felt his pule beating along the side of his neck, his heart thundered. But, he kept his breathing, deep and regular. He stared down at his hands, they remained still.

The criminalist didn't know how long he stayed in his crouched position. He just listened to the night, taking all the sounds in the distance. He must have zoned out for a while, dark and scary images flashed through his mind. All the while, he made his intake of breath as steady as possible.

Time ceased to exist. Nick listened to his heart slow down to a more normal pace, in line with his breathing. The wind blew around, dust, little bits of gravel around his feet, but he just stayed low, almost motionless.

Then as his body relaxed he heard the distinct noise of a car engine and the sounds of tire on pavement. His eyes flew open and he spun around to face the approaching vehicle, his hand a few inches away from his gun.

A patrol car rolled past his truck in the distance and came closer. A flashlight shone in the darkness, the bright light hitting him in the face as the patrol car got nearer. Nick shielded his eyes, and the car stopped a few feet away.

An officer carefully exited his car, the flashlight still shined towards him. Nick could hear the foot steps.

"Care to tell me what you are doing out here, Sir?" A low-bass voice asked.

Nick stood up, his hand fell to his side, and he walked closer to the man. His heart was beating a bit faster, his breathing had increased slightly. Which was of course a bit confusing as he walked closer to a fellow law officer.

"Just out for a night walk." He said, his twang a bit more pronounced.

Nick stepped in the policeman's line of vision.

The officer lowered his light and looked at the CSI a bit confused. "Stokes?"

Nick chuckled to himself. He recognized officer Toby. "Yeah."

"What the Hell are you doing out here, man?" The older cop looked around. "By yourself in the middle of the night?"

Nick shrugged. "Just needed some time to think, I guess."

The Texan smiled warmly, the man in front of him seemed to relax a bit.

"Well, its a bit strange is all." The police officer stepped closer and eyed the criminalist with a little scrutiny. "You okay?"

Nick guessed he better get used to that question. "Yep." Was his short reply.

"Okay, man. Just you spooked me." Officer Toby studied the area, his facial expressions still showed the strains of trying to seem nonchalant. "Don't know why you'd want to come back here."

Nick's grin was now a bit forced. "Just something that needed to be done."

The CSI didn't stick around for anymore small talk. That unnerving feeling was back. The same thing that kept him from hanging out with Greg and some of his new associates.

"I've got to get goin." Nick nodded.

"Sure thing, Stokes. ...Um, see you around soon."

Nick walked past the officer. "Maybe next week," he called out over his shoulder. The criminalist got back in his truck and headed home.

Nick parked his truck and put the gear in place. He stared out his wind shield, towards his townhouse. He noticed Warrick's car a few feet away. His friend must have wrapped up his shift earlier than normal. 'Slow night,' he thought.

Nick killed the engine and sat silently in his seat. He looked down at his hands and noticed the slight tremor. He scrunched up his face in confusion. Nick balled both hands into fists, and then uncurled them several times.

He shook his head and wandered to his door. Warrick and Greg both had keys, so he let himself inside. He went though the foyer and found Warrick on his cell phone in the midst of finishing a phone call.

"Yeah..never mind. Yeah." His partner clicked the his cell off.

The lanky man eyed his friend. "Where were you at?" Warrick looked own at his watch. "At 5 am?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Sorry if I'm out past my bed time. Won't happen again." Nick mocked as he took off his jacket.

Warrick strolled over with a serious look on his face. He noticed Nick's weapon and watched him as he unpacked it and put it back inside the drawer of his little table.

"Where'd you go that you felt that your piece was needed?" Warrick's tone was all business.

Nick brushed past him and started digging around in his kitchen as he tried to formulate an answer.

"Just needed to do something." Nick turned around and leaned against his counter as he munched on an apple. "If I recall, it was a certain someone who said he'd always be packing when he went out." Nick took a bite of the fruit. "Its late. Just wanted to be careful."

Warrick wasn't buying any of this cool and collected act. "Exactly." The other criminalist seemed to wrestle with his next set of words. "Look man. You're a grown adult. Don't matter what you do. But, when its the middle of the night, I just get..."

"I'm not gonna get nabbed by some bogeyman, bro. There were some things I needed to do. Clear my head a bit." Nick discarded his snack. "I'm going to try to go back to work in a week or so." Nick shrugged. "Carrying my gun is just part of getting back into the swing of things."

Warrick could tell his buddy was holding something back. However, if Nick was not in the mood to share. He wasn't going to start an argument pushing the wrong buttons.

"You think under two months is enough?" Warrick asked in concern.

Nick gave him a very serious expression. "Its been close to six weeks. In a few days, it'll be seven. I'm going stir crazy, man. I've attended every therapy session. I'm not taking any medications anymore." Nick looked at Warrick right in the eye, unblinking. "I've made a ton of progress."

Nick still had to pop one of his anti anxiety meds ever once in a while. The lack of sleeping pills as his regular nightly diet was a very new thing, but it was on the list. So, it was okay in his book. It wasn't exactly a lie.

Warrick wanted to give Nick as much encouragement as possible. He wasn't really bowled over by the notion that his friend wanted to return to work so soon. However, even Warrick didn't know when exactly was the proper amount of time to recover from such an ordeal. He wasn't about to begrudge Nick his need to return to something he valued so highly as a sign of normalacy.

Warrick shook his head. "So, what's on deck for today?"

Nick smiled. "Gris got me a DVD from the San Francisco Zoo. An entomologist buddy of his works there and got one of the guys who runs the Wings Over the World Exhibit to send me some of their stuff."

Warrick tried not to look horrified by the idea of yet another collection of movies on birds. But if that is what Nick wanted to watch. It was his place.

Nick went to his counter to try to find the package that contained the DVDs. He sifted through some of the papers around and his hand touched his list. He looked over at Warrick who had made himself at home in the loveseat in the corner. Nick often thought of that as his partner's chair now. He looked down and saw the second to last thing written on it.

He quickly jotted down a big check mark. He was ready to go back now. Every obstacle had been successfully completed in his mind. All he had to do was pass his physical, which would be a breeze. He had nothing but time to work out at home. His mental proficiency test would be all that was need to get back to work.

The old Nick Stokes was only a week away from returning. The CSI smiled at his list. He wandered back into the living room.

Seven weeks. Forty-nine days.One thousand one hundred and seventy-six hours since the incident.

tbc...

Author's notes: Hope everyone is still enjoying this. Consider this a turning point chapter in this story. This may not be the most exciting or dramatic piece of post GD, but one I hope has more than one theme, and a few hidden layers underneath. Shacky and I want to thank you for the continued support. I've noticed a ton of new faces, which is really neat, and hope the rest of the group is having fun.

Mad Maggie:

Good to see you again. I'm happy that everything seemed to flow well, its been great co-writing this with Shacky and we plan on covering a decent amount of ground.

sokerfreak-

Thank you. Hope you enjoy the regular postings.

Tilly

Storm clouds can be hidden, they often roar around, but you never know when the rain is coming. Thank you.

everybettty-

The bathtub scene was one I wrestled with for a while. I want to keep this real, little things that Nick doesn't expect that might trigger something no matter how hard he tries to ignore it. However, its a hard balance to keep things believable, without going into soap opera land.

new creation-

Thanks for all the reviews on the past stories, I've never gotten a chance to thank you for the feedback. You're compliment really means a lot. Glad our guys are acting a true fashion.

Karen-

Thank you. You must catch CSI on reruns on Spike TV or rent the dvds. Its amazing to capture a new reader, and its neat to see that GD was your fist eppy.

Bebob-

Yes, Nick is quite nice on the eyes. Thank you.

Kittyluv-

Thank you. We're trying to keep the posts every two days barring any issues with the site.

Poncholives-

I think each team member has their own way of coping or perhaps not dealing with the aftermath of the attack. Nick is still trying to get back on that horse, he just doesn't know how difficult that might be this time around.

Katknits-

I love giving little peeks into what I think Nick does on his time off, or what his interests are. I adore the Warrick and Nick friendship, those guys have a great bond.

Kasey-

I know Nick might not look too fondly on breaking down I front of Warrick, but these guys are close, and they will always be there for each other.

Tvspaz-

No promises on endings, but my goal has always been to create a satisfying conclusion. I think Shacky and I will be able to provide that with a few bumps in the road.

Jewlbaby-

Thanks my dear.

Amy-

Its the simple things that I think tend to trip people up. Thank you, I always look forward to your thoughts.

Staresp4cat-

Thank you for your continued support. Glad you're like the newsest endavous, its been fun writing this with Shacky.