6/19/05

GRAVE CONSEQUENCES

Chapter 2

Opening the door to Nick Stokes' hospital room, Janine almost collided with Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown, who were, at that same moment, exiting it. The three people checked their movements and paused to acknowledge each other.

"Ms. Willows, Mr. Brown, it's nice to see you both again," Janine said pleasantly.

"Ms. Geller," Catherine returned neutrally.

"So, I assume since you're just leaving that Mr. Stokes is awake?"

"Uh, yeah, Nick's awake," Warrick confirmed. "The nurse is with him right now, but I'm sure it'd be all right for you to go in."

With a smile and a nod, Janine dismissed the two investigators and cautiously entered the room, not wishing to intrude if there was some procedure of a delicate nature being performed. She found the nurse standing beside the bed, checking the monitors and making notes on a clipboard. There was no one else present. The woman looked up as Janine approached.

"Well, aren't you Mr. Popularity?" the nurse said cheerfully to Nick. "You've already got another visitor." Turning to address the psychologist, she said, "Mr. Stokes, here, has had a steady stream of visitors all day. There've been reporters and cameramen requesting interviews... You know, I can't remember when we've had such a high profile patient."

"Yes, I saw your parents on the news this morning," Janine said.

"Yeah, that's my father's world, not mine," Nick said. "He's welcome to it. I don't have anything to say to the media... Speaking of which, not to be rude, but do I know you?"

"No, we've never met. I'm Janine Geller. I'm a psychologist on retainer for the Clark County Sheriff's Department."

"Oh, yeah, right. Ecklie was here earlier. He said I'd have to talk to a department shrink before I could return to duty. So, you're the shrink?"

"I'm the shrink," Janine confirmed.

Nick nodded and absently began scratching at the welts on one arm. The nurse immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

"No scratching!" she admonished in a firm, motherly tone. "You don't want those welts to get infected, do you? They'll leave scars and you are entirely too good looking to be covered with scars. Don't make me put restraints on you!"

The woman glanced over at Janine and gave her a quick wink. Nick's eyes widened slightly at this teasing threat. "But it itches," the young man whined.

"I know it does, Sugar, but rub, don't scratch. I'll talk to the doctor and see if he can up your dosage of Benadryl."

"Thank you."

Giving him an affectionate pat on the arm, the nurse returned the clipboard to its slot at the foot of the bed and left the room. Janine settled herself in one of the padded vinyl chairs beside the bed, depositing her briefcase on the floor and taking out a notepad and pen.

"Where are your parents?" she asked.

"Uh, I finally convinced them to go back to my place and get some sleep. That was a few hours ago. I imagine they'll probably be back shortly."

"Well, that's good. This will give us at least a little while to talk alone."

"Right, uh, look, do we have to do this now?"

"Are you not feeling up to it?" Janine asked. "I'll understand if you're too tired. Apparently you've had quite a few visitors today."

Looking at him, she thought he looked much better than he had the night before. He was no longer receiving oxygen, the swelling in his face was gone, and he was obviously more alert. He didn't look much more rested, but he was more alert.

"Well, yeah, I am tired, but that's not it. I'm just not ready to talk about it right now. Maybe in a few days..."

"Mr. Stokes, putting this off isn't going to make it any easier. The sooner you start talking about it and dealing with it, the sooner you can move on with your life."

"I'm all right. I'm dealing with it."

"Are you? You don't look like you've slept much. Let me guess, nightmares?"

"Well, that's to be expected I would think," he said quietly, not meeting Janine's eyes. "It's also hard to sleep with these damn welts and as long as I'm on the Benadryl the doctor won't give me anything to help me sleep."

"No, Benadryl is a mild sedative all by itself. With your immune system already weakened, I'm sure they don't want to take any chances... Talking about it might help ease your mind and allow you to sleep better."

"I don't see how. If I talk about it, I have to think about it... I just want to forget this whole thing happened. I just want to get back to my life."

"I want you to get back to your life, too. That's why I'm here, to help you do that. But you need to deal with this. Ignoring it isn't going to make it go away. Very likely, it will make things worse."

He shifted uncomfortably in the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. He was retreating into a defensive shell and Janine wasn't sure how to stop it. She was about to try a different tack, when the door to the private room abruptly opened and Mr. and Mrs. Stokes entered. Immediately noting the thick tension in the room, the judge turned his gaze suspiciously on Janine.

"Can we help you, Ma'am?" he asked coldly. "If you're with the media then you should know that we've left explicit instructions at the main desk that our son is not granting any interviews and that all requests for them should be directed to my wife or myself."

"I'm not with the media, Your Honor. My name is Janine Geller. I'm a psychologist with the sheriff's department."

"Dad, she's just doing her job," Nick said quickly.

Glancing over at his son and seeing the rigid posture and tense muscles, the judge said, "Yes, well, it's starting to get late, Ms. Geller. I think you should leave."

Realizing that she had nothing to gain by arguing with the man, Janine decided to retreat gracefully. "Yes sir," she said, gathering up her briefcase and starting for the door.

She was stopped just outside the door by Mrs. Stokes. "Ms. Geller, I'm sorry that my husband was so brusque with you. But please understand that, right now, our primary concern is our son's well-being. I'm sorry, it's just too soon. Nick just isn't ready to face this yet."

"It's never too soon. The sooner a person faces their trauma, the sooner they can begin to move on from it. Look, your son will have to talk to me eventually. It's required by department policy."

"I understand that, but I know my son and right now, he needs his family. That's why Bill and I are here. We'll take care of him."

"Yes, by all means, take care of him. A strong, supportive family can do wonders for helping someone cope with post-traumatic stress disorder, but you still need the guidance of a professional. Nick may seem to be handling this well right now, but that's not going to last. The reality of what happened to him eventually will catch up to him and it will get ugly. With all due respect, Mrs. Stokes, you are not qualified to deal with this."

"I'm his mother, Ms. Geller. That qualifies me to deal with anything." Without another word, Jillian Stokes turned on her heel and returned to the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Janine heaved a heavy sigh and left the hospital.

As Grissom rounded the corner of the hallway, he saw Nick's father seated on the padded bench just outside his son's hospital room. The man was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands. Brows furrowed, Gil approached the older man cautiously.

"Judge Stokes? Are you all right?" he asked. "Is Nick all right?"

The other man looked up with a slight start. "Ah, Mr. Grissom... Yes, everything's fine." The elder Stokes stood and moved to stand before Gil. His expression was a bit sheepish, as if he had just been caught doing something he shouldn't have. He gestured vaguely toward the open doorway of the room. "I just, uh... Nick's asleep right now."

Glancing into the room and seeing that fact for himself, Gil turned back to Bill Stokes, saying, "Well, then I won't disturb him."

"No, don't do that... he hasn't been sleeping much. He's been having nightmares. Some of them are pretty intense... I don't know what to do for him..."

Looking at the older man, Gil thought he looked as if he could use a good night's sleep as well. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked haggard. Unfortunately Gil really had no words of wisdom to pass on to the other man. Finally, he simply said, "If you could just tell Nick that I dropped by?"

"Yes, of course, I'll do that... Uh, Mr. Grissom?" Bill said, stopping Gil as he was about to turn away.

"Yes?"

"The hospital is going to release Nick sometime tomorrow."

"Well, that's good news. So, how long are you and Mrs. Stokes going to be staying in Las Vegas?"

"We'll probably be flying back to Texas in the next few days... We'll be taking Nick with us."

"Oh?" As Gil spoke, he caught movement off to his side and glanced over to see that Mrs. Stokes had moved to stand in the doorway. She had evidently heard her husband talking to someone and had come to see who it was.

"Yes, we... the family, that is, felt that it would be good for Nick to get out of Las Vegas," Bill said.

Hearing the finality in the judge's tone, Gil asked, "Is this going to be a visit or a permanent change?"

"Well, that hasn't been decided yet, but I will tell you that if my wife and I have anything to say about the matter, yes, it will be a permanent change... Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom, we don't mean to leave you in the lurch, but after everything that's happened..."

"Mr. Grissom," Jillian spoke up, taking over for her husband when he faltered. "Please understand that we are very grateful for everything you and your team have done for our son. Nick has always spoken very highly of all of you, especially you, but we want him home, in Texas. He belongs with his family. You can understand that, can't you, Mr. Grissom?"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were still on leave?"

Gil looked up to find Jim Brass standing in the doorway of his office. "I am. I just stopped in to feed my tarantula."

"Oh, yeah, good idea, 'cause no one else is going to feed the big, hairy spider." As he spoke, Brass gave an exaggerated shudder.

Gil smiled at the thought of this tough, hardened cop being squeamish about an overly large, but essentially harmless, arachnid.

"I see that you made the time for a drink while you were at it," Brass continued, gesturing to the open bottle of bourbon and the half empty glass sitting on the desk top. "You know they say that drinking alone is one of the signs of alcoholism."

"I needed this."

"Oh, rough day? How 'bout I sit down and keep you company? Give you an air of respectability."

"Oh, thank you," Gil said dryly, as he watched the other man seat himself in a chair on the other side of the desk. Knowing that the cop had given up alcohol, the investigator didn't bother to offer him a drink.

"Want to talk about it? Wait, let me guess... Nick?"

Before Gil could respond to the question, another voice from the doorway preempted him. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?"

Both men turned to see Catherine in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" Gil countered.

"I stopped in to get some paperwork. I'm starting to go stir crazy at home. And you?"

"Tarantula."

"Oh, right..." Her disgusted expression gave away her true feelings about her colleague's creepy pet. Spying the bottle and the glass on the desk, her face brightened. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, pull up a chair," Gil said, reaching into a drawer of his desk and producing another glass.

Seeing that the 'glass' was, in fact, a small beaker, Catherine eyed it dubiously. Seeing her expression, Gil said, "It's clean, I promise. And even if it isn't, the alcohol will probably kill anything residual... I'm kidding. It's clean."

As she settled herself into her chair, he poured her drink and slid it across the desk to her. Leaning back, she took a sip and said, "So, did you go visit Nicky today?"

"Yes, I did. I was just about to tell Jim about my visit. Nick was asleep, but I did have an interesting chat with the parents."

"Oh?"

"Yes, apparently the hospital is going to be releasing Nick tomorrow. Judge and Mrs. Stokes will be returning to Texas within the next few days... They're taking Nick with them."

"Well, that'll be good for him, have some time off, stay with his family for a week or so."

"Yes, except that the parents have every intention of making sure this visit becomes permanent."

Catherine groaned. "I should have seen this coming. I saw the way Jillian Stokes was looking at Nick while I was at the hospital earlier today. I should have seen this... damn."

"Well, Nick is an adult. The decision is still ultimately his. We don't know what he really wants."

"Oh, it doesn't matter, Gil. They'll pressure him. Trust me, mothers have a way of getting what they want."

"So, we went to all the trouble of training him, molding him into a damn good CSI, just so we could turn him back over to Dallas," Brass said, with a sigh. "Didn't they luck out?"

They all fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. After several minutes, Catherine smiled and asked, "Do you guys remember Nick's first day? God, he was so young and so green."

"Yeah, I remember..." Brass said with a chuckle.

Turning to address Grissom, she said, "And you just handed him over to me and said, 'Here, break in the new guy.' Oh, and that first assignment we got..." She smiled and shook her head, lost in her memories.

"What was the assignment?" Gil asked. "I don't remember it."

"Two male strippers found dead in their apartment." She turned back to Brass. "You worked that case with us, do you remember?"

The older man sat for a moment thinking, before the pertinent memories clicked into place. "Oh, yeah... they had apparently both expired while in the act..."

"Act?" Gil asked, confused. "They were dancing?"

"They were having sex," Catherine said dryly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, that was kind of Nick's reaction... I swear, when we walked into that crime scene and it slowly dawned on Nick just what had been going on, under that sheet... I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head!"

Gil found himself smiling along with the other two, as an image of a shocked and flustered Nick Stokes flashed through his mind.

"Now, it turned out to be some kind of O. D. suicide pact-thing, but we didn't know that yet," Catherine continued. "Brass and I thought it might be some kind of hate crime. So, we had to go down to the strip club where they both worked and interview their fellow dancers.

"Now, mind you, this wasn't one of those nice places where they have scantily clad men gyrating on stage for the titillation of repressed housewives. This was a hardcore gay nightclub. I swear, when we walked into that building, every employee in the club was eyeing Nick's ass."

"Yeah, I thought I was going to have to draw my weapon just so we could get the kid out of there in one piece," Brass added, with a chuckle.

"I can honestly say that was one of the few times in my life that I've been in a strip club and not one man looked at me twice," Catherine said. "And after all that, on his first day, I was sure Nick wouldn't be back the next morning. I remember thinking, 'Oh, this little country boy is not going to make the cut.' But Nicky proved me wrong. He turned out to have a lot more internal fortitude than I thought he did. With all that boyish charm, it's easy to underestimate him sometimes... You know, it's kind of ironic. Gordon didn't succeed in killing Nick, but his actions are still going to take him away from us."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Gil said quietly. "Nick may still surprise us yet."

To be continued...

Author's note: Okay, I'm not sure if I got Nick's father's name right. I couldn't remember it from the episode and, stupid me, I didn't tape it. The official CBS website lists it as Roger Stokes, but a lot of the information on that site is incorrect (go figure). Two other sites I found listed it as Bill Stokes. I decided to go with Bill. If this is wrong, let me know and I'll fix it.