6/25/05
GRAVE CONSEQUENCES
Chapter 4
After his very early morning shower, Nick didn't bother going back to bed. Instead, he made a pot of coffee and went out to the screened-in back porch, which ran almost the entire length of the house. He sat down on the long, wicker couch with his mug of coffee and a light quilt wrapped around him to ward off the early morning chill. After a few minutes, Aggie padded out to investigate who was awake. Seeing him, she jumped up and lay down on the couch beside him, her head in his lap. They sat together in peaceful silence and watched the sun rise.
A couple of hours later, when the sun was full, but still low on the horizon, the sound of someone stepping out onto the wooden boards of the porch close by him, made Nick flinch and raise his arms defensively. He had been lost in his thoughts and hadn't heard the person's approach.
"Geez, sorry, Nick, didn't mean to startle you," Brett said, seating himself in a matching wicker chair across from the couch. "A little jumpy this morning?"
The other man said nothing. His heart was still pounding painfully in his chest. He took a deep breath in an effort to get it back under control.
"Well, you're up early. Couldn't sleep?" Brett asked.
"No."
"Yeah, me neither. I always have a little trouble sleeping in strange beds, in unfamiliar surroundings."
Nick wondered what it was his brother-in-law wanted. They shared a tolerant dislike for each other and generally mutually avoided one another. Brett Halloran was the consummate politician, always campaigning, always trying to win that extra vote. He reminded Nick a lot of Conrad Ecklie, although his fellow team members had told him about how surprisingly supportive Ecklie had been during the hostage crisis, so perhaps Nick needed to revise his opinion of the CSI Assistant Director.
Leaning back in his chair and sipping his own coffee, Brett asked, "So, have you thought about your future plans?"
"Future plans?"
"Well, after everything that happened, you're not really going to go back to Las Vegas, are you?"
Nick said nothing, his attention focused on the dog still lying across his lap.
"Look, Nick, why don't you come and work for me in Louisiana?"
"Doing what? Brett, you're a Senator. Why would you possibly need a criminalist on your staff?"
"Well, I don't know if you knew this, but I'm going to put my hat in the race for governor next year. Now, one of the hot issues in Louisiana these days is the environment. There's a lot of pressure from various groups to save the swamps. But, on the other hand, oil has been discovered in a few of the publicly-owned bayous, which would greatly help our economy... It's a big debate.
"Whoever takes over as governor is going to need some answers on this topic and well, I just don't understand half of what these environmentalists are talking about. I'm just not a science kind of guy, but you are. You're smart, Nick, you could make sense of their gripes and translate it for me. Now, I assure you, you will be well compensated for your efforts. What do you say?"
The thought of being dependent on his brother-in-law for his living was one which made Nick feel physically ill. His expressive face must have revealed some of this distaste as Brett said quickly, "Now, don't feel that you need to give me an answer right now. Think about it. We'll talk about it again later."
"Julia put you up to this, didn't she?"
Now it was Brett's face that gave him away. "She's worried about you. Hell, the whole family's worried about you. I mean, you're out there in Nevada, all by yourself. There's no one to look after you. The family would just feel a lot more comfortable if you were a little closer to home. Now, I understand wanting to get out of Texas, go out on your own... get out from under Bill's thumb, but that's the beauty of Louisiana. You're out of Texas, but not so far away as Las Vegas."
"I'll think about it," Nick said, not knowing what else to say.
"Do you not get to eat in Las Vegas?" Julia teased Nick as he helped himself to a third serving of his mother's excellent southwestern scrambled eggs at breakfast.
"Not this well," he responded.
"Yes, we can see that. You're skin and bone, Nick."
"I don't always have time to eat regularly." This was an old argument that he'd had with both his mother and his sisters many times before.
"Well, if you moved back to Texas, Mom could fatten you up."
Nick chose to ignore the comment and concentrated on his food. He hadn't eaten much the day before and he was making up for it this morning. He also wasn't in the mood for the usual sibling bantering. His sleepless night was already beginning to catch up to him and he wondered how much crap he would have to put up with from his sisters if he disappeared for a few hours to take a nap. They would probably see it as an additional sign of his needing to be 'looked after', rather than what it was; his body simply trying to adjust to a different sleep schedule. His body was accustomed to being awake late at night.
As the morning progressed into the afternoon, more of the family arrived at the ranch. Even members of the extended family began showing up, aunts, uncles and cousins. Friends of the family and old friends of Nick's from high school dropped by, everybody brought food and soon the house was filled with people. It's almost like a wake, Nick thought cynically, except I messed it all up by not dying.
He knew that thought was unfair and harsh, but he was beginning to feel trapped and hounded by all the people in the house. Everyone wanted to see him, to give him a hug or shake his hand. And everyone had words of encouragement or advice for him and, almost without exception, those words were 'move back to Texas.'
He was also getting tired of hearing about how he needed to settle down and get married. Didn't he want to start a family of his own? Hadn't he met any nice girls in Las Vegas? After all, there were plenty here in Texas. He desperately wanted to tell them the truth; yes, I met a very nice girl a few years back. She was a hooker. Unfortunately she was murdered by her pimp. But he didn't say that. He just forced a smile and nodded politely.
"Nick, come outside for a minute, there's someone I want you to meet," Bill called to his son from the doorway of the back porch.
Nick gratefully disengaged himself from the conversation he was having with his mother's two sisters. They apparently knew a very nice, single, young woman whom they thought would be a perfect match for him. He had been desperately trying to think of a polite way of refusing the blind date they were trying to back him into.
He followed his father across the porch and through the screen door, which opened onto the back lawn. A few small groups stood here and there chatting on the lawn, mostly people who wanted to smoke and were polite enough not to do so in the crowded house. Bill led his son to where a tall, hard-faced, muscular man, who appeared to be in his early fifties, stood smoking a cigarette in the shade of a large cottonwood tree.
"Nick, this is an old friend of mine whom I don't think you've ever met. This is John Cavlin, he's with the Texas Rangers."
"Oh, uh, it's an honor to meet you, sir," Nick said, shaking the man's hand.
"So, your father tells me that you're a CSI for the Las Vegas Crime Lab, is that right?" the man said in a rough baritone.
"Yes sir."
"Las Vegas has a damn good reputation. They're one of the best labs in the country. I understand you also worked with Gil Grissom?"
"He was my supervisor until very recently, yes."
"Damn-fine scientist. I had the pleasure of hearing him lecture once... Now, your father also tells me that you're looking to move back to Texas."
Did he? Nick thought in surprise. That would be news to me.
"As you probably know, the Rangers have their own crime lab," Cavlin continued, apparently unperturbed by Nick's silence. "It's not a very big lab. We generally only employ three or four investigators at any given time. But because we're so small, we're also very selective. We also have a pretty good reputation. One of our guys is going to be retiring in a few months, so we're going to have an opening soon. Now, I've already spoken with Mr. Grissom and your current supervisor, Ms. Willows, and they both gave you glowing recommendations. So, what do you say we sit down sometime, go through the motions of a formal interview then we can start the paperwork and get you hired."
"Wait a minute, you talked to Catherine and Gris?" Nick asked, stunned.
"That's right. They both seemed very impressed with your work. I also spoke to your old supervisor here at the Dallas lab and he put in a good word for you as well. I know your father and your family, that's good enough for me... Now, as you know, Ranger headquarters is in Austin, that's where the lab is, but our jurisdiction is the entire state of Texas, so we'll keep you hopping. It's something completely different every day."
Nick just stood mute, too stunned to form words.
"You know, I think he's in shock at the moment, John," Bill said, with a nervous little chuckle. "Why don't you give him a couple of days to let the offer sink in and we'll get back to you."
"Not a problem. There's still plenty of time... It was a pleasure to meet you, Son. I look forward to working with you," Cavlin said, slapping Nick's shoulder in a gesture of manly affection. Turning to the judge, he said, "As always, it was good to see you, Judge. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have to get back to work."
As the Ranger headed off toward the front of the house, Nick turned away from his father, his hands resting on his narrow hips and the muscles of his back and shoulders tense. Bill gazed at his son's back somewhat apprehensively. He knew that he had overstepped his bounds, but he was not about to back down now.
When Nick remained silent, he said, "Well, how 'bout that, Poncho? The Texas Rangers... You could be a Ranger. Wouldn't that be something?"
"Yeah, that would be something," Nick agreed bitterly, still not facing his father. "So, how many strings did you have to pull to get me that offer?"
"I didn't pull any strings. I happened to run into John when I was in Austin. He'd seen the news reports about your abduction. He asked how you were doing. We got to talking about your job. He told me about the opening with the Rangers. I told him you would be interested and, yes, I told him to go ahead and contact Las Vegas."
"Without even asking me? And what was all that 'we'll' get back to you business? Am I mistaken in assuming that this is still my decision?"
"Of course this is your decision. I can't force you to do anything. But this was too good of an opportunity to let slide. Yes, it would bring you back to Texas, which would allow your mother and I to sleep easier at night, but this is also an excellent opportunity for you. The Texas Rangers are an internationally recognized, elite, crime unit. This could be a big step in your career."
"A big step toward what?" Nick asked, finally turning to face his father.
"Bigger and better things."
"Who the hell said I wanted bigger and better things? For that matter, who the hell said I wanted to leave Las Vegas?"
"Nick, you can't seriously be considering staying there... After what that maniac did t-."
"That's right, I'll be much safer in Texas, 'cause we don't have any psychos here, do we?" Nick snapped caustically, interrupting his father for probably the first time in his life. "It's not your decision and I'll thank you to stay out of it. I don't need you to find jobs for me. I am perfectly capable of getting a job on my own."
"I was just trying to help."
"I don't need your help and I don't want your help!" In what was probably also a first in his life, Nick turned and walked away from his father in the middle of a discussion.
Nick lay on the couch in the library and stared at the ceiling. He didn't know what was happening to him. Yes, he was justified in his anger with his father, but that didn't give him to right to say the things he had said. He had never spoken to his father that way in his life. He didn't know why he was suddenly behaving so emotionally. First he'd almost freaked out on the plane. Then he had freaked out when he first saw his family gathered at the house. Now he was yelling at his father. He was usually so much better at keeping his emotions in check.
Although he was still annoyed at his father for trying to manipulate his life, most of his anger had drained away, leaving him feeling hollow and exhausted. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep...
Nick found himself once more lying in his Plexiglass box, but this time there was no lid and no dirt on top of him. He was lying at the bottom of a deep pit, staring up at a clear, flawless, blue sky. Standing at the top of the pit and looking down on him were his fellow CSIs, Warrick, Sara, Catherine, and Greg. They were all grim-faced and somberly dressed. A man in priest's vestments stepped up to the edge as well and began reading from a leather-bound prayer book. The book seemed disproportionately large and it completely obscured the man's face, but not his voice.
"In sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life through Our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God, our brother Nicholas Stokes and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust."
The CSIs bent down and picked up handfuls of loose soil and began dropping them onto Nick. But instead of a light rain of dirt falling onto him, it was more like shovelfuls dropping on his unprotected body. He tried to call out to them, to tell them he was still alive, but he couldn't speak and he couldn't move.
"The Lord bless him and keep him. The Lord make His face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace. Amen."
The steady rain of dirt continued to fall and Nick was quickly buried under a layer of soil. It filled his eyes with grit, blinding him. Panic was beginning to flare in the pit of his stomach and he tried desperately to make his body move. But nothing happened.
The voice he heard had changed. Now it sounded like it was coming from right beside him, as if someone was speaking into his right ear. "Breathe quick, breathe slow, put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger... Any way you like. You're going to die here."
No! Nick's mind screamed. I don't want to die! And I don't want to die here, alone in the cold earth.
His desperation now at its peak, he finally managed to force his mouth to open, but no sound emerged. It was immediately filled with dirt. He could feel it fill his throat, cutting off not only his voice, but his oxygen supply as well. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to thrash around, but he still couldn't move...
And then he felt it... Something moving in the darkness, in the dirt... many somethings... They were touching him, tiny legs, tiny mouths moving over his bare skin... Nick felt his entire being shudder in revulsion... Then the stings began...
Fire... his body was on fire, as though someone was lightly brushing his body with a lit cigarette... This wasn't eternal life and resurrection, this was hell... What had he ever done to deserve this damnation? Why was he being punished?
Why! What did I do!
"Nick, wake up! Wake up!"
He jolted upright with a painful gasp. His body was trembling violently and his chest was heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He gulped air into his lungs and tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was dark in the room and he wasn't sure where he was.
"Nick, are you okay?"
He jerked away from the unexpected voice beside him, shrinking back against the couch. He couldn't make out the face of the person kneeling beside him. Light spilling in from the open doorway was throwing the person's face in deeper shadow. There were other people in the room as well.
"Nick, it's me, Allison. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you. You're home, in Texas. You're safe. The family's here. We're going to protect you."
As she spoke, his memories began to resurface. Allison, his sister... home... he was safe. Gradually, he felt his heart rate begin to slow.
"Talk to me, Nick. What were you dreaming?" Allison asked, reaching a hand out to touch his face.
He shook his head, not wanting to think about the dream. He could still feel the tiny little legs on his skin, the biting little mouths... With a shudder, he pushed her hand away and stood, stepping around her to get away from the couch. He still felt dirty... unclean... and he could still feel... them... crawling on him. He needed a shower, now.
Pushing past the other members of his family who had gathered near the open doorway, drawn by his nightmare-induced cries, he headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind him.
Gil Grissom entered the breakroom where he found Warrick, Catherine, Sara and Greg all gathered. With the swing shift now short a man, the two shifts were once again working together, to cover both shifts, with Gil nominally in charge.
Warrick and Catherine were still coming in at the earlier time, so they already had their assignments for the night, but Gil had asked them to drop by the breakroom later, when the rest of the team would be arriving. The various conversations died away as Gil entered and everyone turned to face him.
"Has anyone spoken to Nick recently?" he asked.
There was a general murmur of negative responses and Warrick said, "No, he's with his family. I didn't want to bother him."
"Alright, that's fine... Uh, Catherine and I both received phone calls from someone with the Texas Rangers..."
"About Nick?" "What's happened?" Sara and Warrick asked simultaneously, their questions overlapping.
"Uh, no, nothing's happened," Grissom said quickly, cursing himself for not finding a better way to lead up to this. "They wanted us to give them recommendations on Nick."
"Recommendations?" Warrick repeated. "You mean like for a job?"
"Exactly."
"Nick's not coming back, is he?" Sara said softly.
"We don't know that yet," Gil said. "But apparently he is considering other offers."
"Wow, the Texas Rangers, how cool is that?" Greg said, speaking up for the first time. "Do you think they'd call him, 'Stokes, Texas Ranger'...?"
His voice trailed off as he looked up and saw the rest of the team staring at him in horror. He gave a slightly self-conscious chuckle. "What? Oh, come on, you guys, he's not going to take the job. He's coming back... You'll see, he's coming back."
Still smiling, he turned and left the breakroom. The others stared after him for a moment.
"He is seriously in denial," Sara said, shaking her head and trailing after the younger man.
Warrick, who had been sitting at the break table, abruptly stood and slammed his fist onto its hard surface. "Damn it!" he yelled and stalked angrily out of the room.
Catherine and Gil looked at each other for a moment. She gave him a half smile and slight shrug then headed after Warrick, leaving Gil alone with his thoughts.
To be continued...
Author's note: Hey, just wanted to say, wow, thanks for all the great reviews. I have to admit, I was actually a little nervous about posting this, as it's my first attempt at CSI. I've been watching the show for a few years now, but I've only just recently become obsessed with it. Anyway, thanks!
Oh, also, the information about the Texas Rangers came from their official website.