Summary: A serial killer comes to town on the boy's night to work. Things don't go calmly for Nick or Warrick when the killer decided to not play nice.

Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.

Breath for me

Written by: duffshel

#17

It had been four days since both men awoke in their hospital beds. Warrick was currently sitting once again at Nick's side. The shorter CSI was having trouble staying awake for long periods of time due to the pain and the drugs. When ever Warrick was allowed to be up and moving, he was in his chair across the room by his bed.

The tube had been removed from Nick's throat and his slight wheeze was covered from the constant beeping from the EKG. Nick wasn't allowed to move from the bed or take any of the other machines off. The doctor was still worried about a relapse or other troubles. Nick really didn't mind though. His body hurt too damn much.

Nick's eyes opened easy the few times when he was allowed to sleep without drug assistance. The room was dim, but there was enough light to make out Warrick sleeping in the chair. Nick smirked and looked around the room to see if anyone else was present. It wasn't unusual to see two or three others hanging out with them at a time.

He remembered everything now. The pains all made sense, but didn't make him any less angry. Warrick had told him Ken was dead. He didn't care about justice for the man, he just wanted to beat the shit out of him.

A groan from Warrick announced the other man's waking. Nick didn't bothering looking over at him, "Morning buttercup."

"Oh shut up with that crap, man. I thought I beat that one out of you years ago."

"Nah, I would never forget that. We were married on that plane after all."

Warrick shook his head, "You remember the weirdest crap from former cases. But I guess that one is relevant since those killers got away without punishment. Ken got off through death."

"You know, some people would say that is the ultimate punishment."

"And you buy into that?"

"I don't really know anymore. I am just glad I don't have to worry about him coming out in the night sometime and doing something new."

"Yeah, I won't be able to be there all the time to save your ass."

Nick smiled. His love for the other man had grown through the ordeal and he was glad to have him around. Never would he have thought he would ever have such feelings for someone who wasn't related to him. But Warrick was now his chosen brother and was as close as any of his sisters or his single blood brother.

"I never have thanked you. You kept your promise. You were there at the end."

"You never have to thank me man. I will always be there at the end."

Both men fell into a comfortable silence. Warrick reached for the remote on the TV and searched out something they would both enjoy. There was college basketball game on. Neither liked the teams, but it was sports. The doctor found them twenty minutes later, sleeping with the game still on.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

Catherine sat in the chair next to Nick's bed. She was eager to spend some time with them, but Warrick had been taken out for some lab work while Nick was sedated again. The Texan's hip had been bothering him more after the second surgery to the area. The only thing that would keep him from moving around and causing more damage was to drug him. Catherine was just glad it wasn't going to be a permanent thing.

Nick's eyes were open, but they were distance and glazed. His breathing was calm and deep. The man was awake, but not completely aware of what was going on around him. There was someone next to him, holding his hand, but he didn't know who it was. The drugs in his system stole any distinct thought from him. All he knew, his hip was numb and that was a good thing.

The television was on, but neither was paying it any mind. The hospital room door opened and Grissom wheeled Warrick in. The CSI looked exhausted and a new band-aid was taped to the inside of his elbow. Warrick waved to Grissom to place him next to Catherine next to the bed. He needed to check on Nick before he went back to his bed.

"How's he doing?"

Catherine brushed her blonde hair out of her face, "Just resting. The doctor just gave him another dose so he is kinda out of it. But he is calm."

"That's good. I was worried he was going to fall out of bed last night from the pain he was experiencing. The doctor came and took him out for a few hours."

Grissom stood watching his three companions and couldn't help, but feel a little like an outsider. He just didn't know what to do or say in these kinds of situations. It wasn't that he wasn't worried about Nick or Warrick, he just didn't have the right tools to say the right things in bad times. He moved closer to the bed.

"I know you are both tired and hurting, but we are going to need to get your side of things. Do you want to try now Warrick?"

Warrick took a deep breath. He knew this was coming and knew from experience that it was going to have to be done whether he or Nick were ready for it, "I guess, we can start. I just don't know how much I can do right now."

"That's fine. Let me get the recorder ready."

Grissom walked back towards the door and opened the case that Warrick hadn't noticed before. Catherine must have brought it in when Grissom was blocking the doorway. The digital recorder was tiny, but it held a great deal of responsibility.

"We can stop whenever you need to. Just take your time and tell what you remember."

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Warrick looked at Nick's pale face and began to retell the tale. He started with the park and the horror of watching Nick getting shot. It had been difficult to watch at the time, but he was feeling the pain again just from talking about it. The story spilled from his lips. Catherine had gripped his left hand when it started to shake.

But Warrick crumbled when he got to the part once Nick had gotten off the bed. It wasn't because of the pain the knife had caused on his chest. It was the fact that Nick had broken his promise.

"He was supposed to get out. Save himself, but he stayed. He almost died because he helped me!" the tears ran steadily down Warrick's cheeks.

Catherine could feel herself begin to cry, "He couldn't leave you. You would have done the same thing."

"But he shouldn't have! If he had left, he wouldn't be in that damn bed. He would be sitting at home drinking a beer."

Silence filled the room except for the sobs that Warrick was trying to suppress. He hadn't dealt with the emotions of everything yet. It had been mostly concern about Nick and the recover the both were going through. Nobody was paying much attention to the sheets rustling.

""Rick?"

All three CSI's jumped at the rasp from the bed and turned to look at Nick. The Texan's tired eyes rested solely on Warrick. His limps were trembling slightly from his battle against the drugs that were making his mind numb.

"Nick, are you okay? Do you need the doctor?"

"No…no more drugs…have to talk…to you," it was hard to talk, but Nick pushed it out, "Not your fault…my choice."

Warrick pulled himself painfully forward in the wheel chair he was still sitting in and took Nick's hand from Catherine, "Shh, you should be sleeping, bro."

"Don't interrupt me!" The command was nothing more than a whisper, but it stopped any more words from coming from Warrick.

"Not your fault. I wasn't…going to leave you. You are…friend and not to be left….for dead."

Catherine felt like an intruder from her proximity with the two men, but was afraid to move and cause any disturbance. This would be good for both of them, even though she could also tell it was taking its toll on Nick.

"You wouldn't have left me for dead, man. He was more interesting in you anyways. He wanted to kill you first no matter what. I would have been fine until you went and got some help."

"No, shut up and listen!" Nick shook his head to clear out more cobwebs, "I was not going to leave you. Leave no man behind:

Grissom smiled at the attempt Nick made to make himself clear. There would be a lot of talking and arguing between these two men, but it should be done in private.

"Warrick, I think we are done for today. You and Nick talk and get things straight and we can try again tomorrow. Catherine, we need to get back to the lab."

The blond woman brushed her hands on her cheeks to get rid of the stray tears, "Alright. You guys get better, I will bring Lindsey to see you tomorrow, she has been asking about you guys. Get some rest."

She planted a kiss on Nick's cheek and then one to Warrick's forehead. Grissom simply grasped the other two men's clamped hands in his own and gave them a quick squeeze. They both left quietly.

"Look, Nick," Warrick turned back to Nick, "I think we are just going to do nothing, but fight about this topic. I know I am right, but you are too stupid to admit to it."

Nick blinked heavily, but smiled anyways, "Whatever man. Now, if you are all done…whining about my ability to save your ass…I need to get some sleep. I don't know…what they are giving me, but…man, they are killers."

The Texan drifted into sleep just as he finished talking. Warrick almost didn't catch the last of it, but got most of the mumbled words to put it together. He should have known Nick would argue with him on this. No matter what the other man said, Warrick would always regret things. But right now, he had to think of a way to get from that damn chair back into his bed. He needed a nap.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

His house was warm. Nick pulled at his t-shirt collar with still tender fingers to try to move the air closest to his skin. He had been let out of the hospital two days ago, but he wasn't alone. Warrick practically moved into his spare bedroom in order to keep an eye on him. Not that Nick really minded though.

The Animal Planet was once again his only companion at the moment though. He had convinced Warrick, after a lot of arguing, that he needed to get some solid sleep. Nick knew he was keeping his partner up through the night with the cries from his nightmares. The screams were loud even to Nick's ears when he jumped awake.

The night didn't hide him from Courtney dying with the belt tight around her neck or the knife slicing through Warrick's chest. During the worst terrors, he could still feel that damn belt wrapped around his flesh, pulling taunt. He knew he almost died, but he didn't remember any white lights or peaceful life flashes. All there had been was darkness and complete fear. It would never leave him.

Nick sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wanted to move, but the effort to get up to do it was more than he wanted to deal with. Frustration was also another emotion he was dealing with too much lately. There was little he could do for himself. His hip was fucked up and he was forced to hobble around on crutches or in a wheel chair for longer trips. It was embarrassing.

The cut on his face itched, but he avoided touching it. Catherine had yelled at him enough about it that it stuck. The stitches were going to come out in three more days. He could wait until then. It was still quicker than the ones still holding the muscle and flesh together in his arm. In a few words, Nick was a mess.

Deciding that he really needed to take a piss, Nick reached for his crutches and slowly moved himself forward on the couch. Pains shot through him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed himself upwards. He had to stop once he was on his feet and shut his eyes. The room didn't like to hold still once he was upright.

The nausea died down and Nick adjusted the crutches under his arms. Once he was ready, he wobbled down the hallway towards the bathroom door. He wanted to scream out in pain, but held it back to grunts. It seemed like a mile of hell.

He had never been more thankful for having the light switch right by the doorway than he was at that moment. But the damn toilet was still about five more feet in. Nick would forever smile when he saw a toilet now. He never thought he would see the day he could say he was handcuffed to one. But right now, all he wanted to do was piss like he never had before. The crutches made it awkward, but Nick finally managed to get his sweat pants down far enough. He readied himself for the new pain that the pressure would put on the breaks of his hip.

Once he was finished, Nick used his good hand, his shaky hand, to pull at his pants. They were stubborn and got caught up on his bandages. A sob caught in his throat. He just wanted to be well again. It seemed like too much to ask for.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

Warrick awoke feeling refreshed for once. It was a feeling he had been missing as of late. He would never tell Nick, but he had been sleeping in shifts in order to be awake in case the other man would need him. He was having dreams of what had happened, but no where near the magnitude that Nick was. For that he was thankful.

The bed felt great under his worn body, but he needed to get up. A look at the clock showed he had been asleep for over five hours. Nick would need something from him by now. With a groan, Warrick pushed himself up and off the bed. He grabbed his t-shirt and threw it on over his bandaged chest. The cuts still pulled, but it was his leg that was still bothering him.

White plaster was heavy against his skin, but Warrick was able to move around with only one crutch. He limped his way to the doorway and looked down the hallway. The television was on, but there was no one watching it. Warrick walked towards it and looked into the kitchen. The main rooms were empty. His eyebrow formed a frown.

As he turned around to go towards the master bedroom, a sound from the bathroom stopped him. He walked over to the door and knocked on the wood softly. There was no response from inside, but he could hear sounds of distress. Without blinking, Warrick opened the door and stepped in.

Nick had lowered himself onto the edge of his tub and had his head in his hands. He was sobbing. Warrick made his way to his side and sat down. Nick collapsed against his chest.

"Oh Nicky. Come on, man. It's okay."

He placed a kiss on the back of Nick's head and ran his hand over the scalp. This was something he hated doing. He never wanted to see Nick like this ever again. The Texan wasn't supposed to cry like he was.

Nick buried his hands in the cloth of the t-shirt and let himself cry. He knew it wouldn't stop until he was done so he just let it happen. The arms around him were comforting and he made no move to push them away. This was one of the few times he had let Warrick hold him through his pain.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this anymore, but I don't know how to make it stop," he stuttered through his tears and gasps for breath.

"No man, it is fine. You do what you need to. There is nothing wrong with crying."

Both men stayed like that for almost twenty minutes. Finally Nick was able to pull himself together and push himself away from Warrick. The tear tracks ran down his neck and his eyes burned, but he did feel a little better. Warrick was smiling at him with nothing, but comfort and love.

"What brought that on, little bro?"

Nick's cheeks turned a little more red, "I had to take a piss."

"So you are telling me, we just sat in this bathroom forever because you had to take a piss? What the hell kind of answer is that?"

"Its just so damn annoying. I can't even relieve myself without struggling to move and to avoid the pain. This really sucks man."

"I know, but soon you are going to be better and back to bugging the living hell out of me. Then I will wish nothing more than you to be crying over taking a damn piss."

Nick started laughing. It hurt, but he really didn't care at that moment. One of Warrick's arms was still wrapped around him and he felt safe. His brother was there with him and wasn't going to let him go, just like he forever promised. He would do his damn best to return the favor.

"Hey man, can we get out of the bathroom? I would hate for someone to let themselves in and see us like this together in here."

Warrick laughed even harder and got to his feet. His chest felt on fire, but he didn't care at that moment. He limped out of the room first and waited for Nick to follow. They made quite the pair with the three crutches on their way back to the couch. Both men fell upon the fabric in a heap, but their laughter covered their pain. They would be alright. They would make it. They would make sure of it.

"Once we can move normal and get the hell out of here, you are buying the first drink."

"I don't think so Warrick. Remember what I told you?"

"Which time?"

"I told you when they started sticking me with every needle in that hospital, you would owe me. I think that converts into all the booze I can handle."

"Well, it's a good thing you can't handle much!"

"I will beat you for that one later."

Laughter filled the room.

The End

Author's Final Notes: I just want to say thank you to every one of you who either read or read/reviewed. It meant a lot to me because I was really worried about this story. I really didn't want to put it up, but am quite glad that I did. It sucks that I can't give responses to you guys, but thanks, thanks, thanks! It is depressing that this ride is over so soon! Maybe some day I will write something to add to is, who knows. But I am working on my new fiction at the moment, so it will have to wait. I really don't know what else to say. Let me know your overall thoughts on this and anything you suggest I work on. I am open to any ideas. And I promise the other title for my other story will be clearer. In fact, I am going to give you all a little teaser for it! See you all soon!

New Fanfiction!

Title: Poisonous Fear

Summary: A case leads the team on a game of cat and mouse through fear and panic. Nick and Warrick risk it all to make it through to the end.

Coming soon to near you!