The same disclaimer applies to this chapter as to the previous ones. Once again the flashback is placed in the center of the screen.
Nick didn't know what to do. Was he frightened? Yes, terrified. But he didn't know where he could go that would be safe. Was there anywhere safe for him anymore? Or would he have to spend the rest of his life in terror, unsure of his own privacy even in his own home? Screw it, he thought to himself, and he moved towards the bathroom to retrieve the bottle of Alprazolam he knew was behind his mirror Just as he was opening the tiny capsule over his kitchen sink, he saw his face in the mirror and sighed. The doctor had informed him also that it was not safe for him to begin mixing the many prescription medicines he'd been given, except in the dosages specified by a doctor. Nick knew it wouldn't have been safe for him to start mixing medicines and so he refrained from popping a small anti-anxiety pill into his mouth. He turned out of the bathroom and walked back into his living room, not even noticing that the open bottle was still in his hand.
The sedative Nick took prior to finding the second note in his house was starting to hit him in full force, but he was afraid to fall asleep. He sat rigidly on the floor in front of his couch. His knees were jammed awkwardly against his coffee table and his neck was jerked painfully against a supporting beam in his sofa. Nick knew he could very easily have seated himself in a more comfortable way, or simply moved up onto his very comfortable couch, but he was afraid that, if he allowed himself to become too comfortable, the pills would drag him into a torpor that would leave him vulnerable to some kind of intruder.
Nick sat, staring at the knob of his front door. The door was not locked. The key sat in Nick's palm. And Nick's vigilance would not fail him. He would not allow for his home to be violated once again, he knew he could wait there, and stand guard over his privacy, that as long as he watched…
Warrick drove back from the crime scene as quickly as he could. He was frustrated with the fact that he couldn't be with his friend, helping him through this experience. He didn't understand why Catherine would have chosen him of all people on their team, to go back to the original scene instead of to Nick's house, where he was sure he belonged.
As quickly as he could while obeying the speed limit – and sometimes even while failing to obey it – Warrick headed back to the lab. As a result, when he arrived, the rest of the team was still absent from the building. Warrick assumed correctly that they were still investigating Nick's apartment and decided his efforts would be best put towards processing the new evidence he'd found at the scene.
Warrick reached onto the passenger's seat next to him to examine the small, delicate flower he'd found amid the chaos that remained at the scene of the grave. No, not amid, he was forced to think to himself, on top of, for there was no other way to describe it.
Warrick came across the scene to find it still well lit, even though only apolice tape now separated it from the rest of the desert. There was no one else around. All the statements had already been taken and most of the people who'd been present at the original scene were also being treated for minor injuries.
Warrick walked slowly through the loose dirt surrounding the pit that had once been home to a woman's grave. He was shocked to see for himself the damage done by the explosion. He'd already heard of the strange similarities between this case and Nick's and he found himself remembering the terror he'd felt upon reaching Nick in his plastic coffin. He'd been terrified to find Nick with a gun pressed into his chin but there was more to it than that. Warrick had seen in his friend's eyes, and knew with every inch of his soul, that Nick was about to pull the trigger. The thought of what he would have found, had they been another minute in finding Nick, still kept Warrick awake at night.
Warrick was still thinking about how easily it could have been Nick's body parts strewn across the desert, when he noticed something small and white on the ground in front of him. He got closer and saw that it was a flower. A tiny, delicate flower was sitting in the center of the crater formed in the blast.
Warrick glanced behind him quickly, and peered into the darkness surrounding him outside the boundaries of the police tape. He couldn't see any signs of life other than his own footprints, which followed him from his Tahoe to the spot where he now stood. There were no other footprints in the dirt. It didn't make any sense.
Carefully climbing down towards the center of the crater, Warrick picked up the small flower in his gloved hand. The petals were real; they felt so delicate, like silk that slipped easily between the fingers covered in the latex of his gloves. It was clear that there was no way something as frail as the flower Warrick held in his hand could have survived the blast that had left so much damage in its wake. But then how had it gotten there? There was no evidence to suggest someone had placed it there. Perhaps it had been carried on the wind and was there by complete coincidence? Warrick didn't know how to interpret this newfound clue so, after a quick sweep over the rest of the scene, which was completely void of any tangible evidence, Warrick and his flower headed back to the lab.
Now Warrick sat at a desk next to the flower as he tried to match its appearance to one of the thousands of flowers on the computer's database. Warrick knew that there was probably someone far more qualified for this kind of task, but he also knew that everyone was occupied at the moment and he couldn't wait to find out whether this flower would somehow shine light on the rest of his case. Warrick was by no means an expert on vegetation and so, when the computer had asked for the flower's identifying factors, all been able to enter were the words 'small' and 'white'. As a result he was now faced with thousands of flowers to sort through.
After only five minutes of staring blankly at a seemingly interminable list of flora, Warrick decided that there must be some way to narrow down the search, and so he looked more closely at the flower he'd found. He noticed first that the petals were beginning to welt, it didn't look as though the flower was going to survive. As he was looking closely at the flower's petals, upset that his new piece of evidence was dying before his eyes, it suddenly hit him. There were seven petals on the flower. He entered this new information into the computer and the list of plants was cut-down considerably. After a short search of the remaining possibilities, Warrick discovered the identity of his mystery blossom.
Grissom's head was still reeling on his way back to the lab. He sat in the back seat behind Greg and Sara. Logic dictated that he ride with Catherine, where he would have been able to ride in the front seat, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be alone with Catherine, not until he figured out what she'd meant at least.
Though he'd managed to completely push the issue out of his mind while searching Nick's house, Grissom was now completely confused by what had taken place between he and Catherine before the search began. His ability to ignore his own thoughts completely was something that, unfortunately, only applied when he was processing a crime scene. Now the memory was eating away at him. He couldn't understand what her words had meant. They're not your children, Grissom thought to himself, going over Catherine's words once again in his mind.
He remembered distinctly that she'd put an emphasis on the 'your' but nothing about the statement made sense. Who weren't his children? Grissom assumed from what had transpired immediately before the crazed statement that she was referring to the rest of his team – no, her team. But since when were his team members his children? They were his friends, maybe, but children? That didn't make any sense. Grissom also remembered how angry Catherine had been when she'd said these things and decided the words weren't meant to make any sense. Perhaps they were a blind attempt at throwing Grissom off…if that was the case it had certainly been successful, Grissom remembered being so confused by the statement that he'd let Catherine stalk away without another word. Yes, Grissom decided, that must be it. And pegging it off as a case of errant female hormones, Grissom was able to forget about the encounter for a little while.
He thought instead of what he'd learned about Nick. He'd seen him at his most vulnerable, he'd seen his friend panicking and sobbing while confined in his own coffin, but he'd never seen anything like what he'd seen while he and Nick stood in his living room. Then, later, Grissom had stumbled across some serious prescriptions in Nick's bathroom. If Nick was taking all the medicine Grissom had seen, he must not have been ready to return to work. An investigator popping sedatives was not a good thing. Grissom found himself thinking I never should have let him come back.
Suddenly his mind pulled up Catherine's words once more. It seemed that the memory refused to stay buried where Grissom wanted it. Forced to examine it once again, Grissom began to fear that perhaps the words hadn't been a random attack of female hormones. Perhaps there was some truth to them. Did Grissom consider his team his family? He was forcibly reminded of all the circumstances he'd found himself in that required him to take a fatherly role to his team members; when he'd taken a special interest in the nervous rookie Holly Gribbs, when he's helped Warrick stay away from gambling, when he'd forced Sara to confide in him the horrors of her past, and when he'd used Nick's nickname, used only by his father, to calm him down while he was buried alive.
Oh god…I do! I see them as my children. Grissom was shocked by this realization of the truth in Catherine's words. As shocked as he was to discover that he considered himself the paternal leader of their group, it wasn't long before he discovered too that the others felt the same way. Not only had he begun looking after him as though they were his own, the other members of Grissom's team had begun to look at him as a father figure.
Grissom was horrified by the weight this realization put on him. As obvious as it had been to Catherine, he'd had absolutely no idea, even of his own feelings. Now, with the knowledge of the bond that he'd inadvertently formed with his 'children' Grissom felt an overpowering guilt and responsibility. Now he was faced with the daunting task of breaking all of those ties in the next few weeks. If only I'd found out sooner.
Grissom began to think in his heart, that he must mend what was wrong with his team before he was forced to leave it due to his lack of hearing. He'd been informed that the symptoms would become permanent within the next couple weeks and he had his own suspicions that that had been a generous estimate. But how was someone dense enough to elude even his own feelings supposed to correct the feelings of others in only a few weeks? Grissom did not know. He only knew that he refused to abandon the family he had unintentionally formed, they deserved better than that.
While lost in his thoughts, Grissom had been driven all the way back to the lab. Sara and Greg had not disturbed him for the entire journey, Greg remaining unusually quiet. They both assumed that Grissom had a lot on his mind, which was true, but not for the reasons they suspected. In truth, they both had enough on their own minds that the silence wasn't noticed much by anyone. It was only after they'd arrived and Grissom still gave no sign of exiting the vehicle that Sara cleared her throat loudly and called, "You coming Gris?" in order to snap him out of his daze. Grissom snapped back into reality quickly and, noticing that Catherine had arrived ahead of them and was already inside, he followed Sara and Greg into the building.
It didn't take long for Sara, Greg, and Grissom to locate the rest of their team. Catherine was sitting next to Warrick, who was seated in front of a computer with a picture of a flower on the screen. Grissom assumed Catherine had immediately informed Warrick of their progress – or rather, lack thereof – at Nick's house and was assured of it when Warrick turned to them and questioned, "nothing?" All three of the newcomers shook their heads in the negative and positioned themselves around the desk where Warrick was seated. It seemed it was time for a group update. Catherine started the informal meeting by turning to Warrick and asking, "did you find anything?"
Warrick grinned in an expression that didn't seem to fit the situation and gestured towards the flower sitting on the desk next to his mouse. "I sure did." He added for good measure. "Found this thing at the sight of the explosion, right in the middle of things too. Don't know how it could've gotten there. Do any of you know what this is?"
Warrick, having had no idea of what kind of flower he'd been holding when he'd first seen it, fully expected the blank looks and shaking heads he received from three of the four people gathered around him, but was crestfallen when Grissom opened his mouth to speak.
"Starflower." Grissom said bluntly. "Grows in deciduous forests."
The entire group turned to gape at Grissom with their jaws dropped.
"How the hell did you know that!" Warrick's indignation was evident. "Now you're some kind of plant expert too?"
Grissom grinned, but decided not to continue his charade. "No," he said simply, "but I did see the screen of the computer as I walked in. The page of details about the flower was still on the monitor."
The group issued some very subdued laughter before Warrick continued on with his report. "Well according to this database, these flowers are found in deciduous forests as Grissom already pointed out and die if in extreme heat. See how this one's already welting?"
"Which only stands to reason," Sara continued for him, "that the flower doesn't grow anywhere near here, at least not in the wild. Someone must have put it there."
"Nope. There were no prints approaching or leaving the scene when I got there."
"Well they could have been shifted by the wind." Greg offered, though even he knew that it was unlikely.
"Either way," Catherine reasoned, "we need more to go on. Warrick do we know the identity of the hair Grissom found at the scene yet?"
"Yes," Warrick answered, "and according to CODIS, the DNA matches that of a Miss Kelly Gordan."
All the heads at the table jerked at this unexpected news. The same thoughts were racing through everyone's mind. Kelly Gordan? How did she get out of prison to bury someone alive?
"I know what you're thinking," Warrick broke in on everyone's thoughts, "but as soon as I got back I found out Kelly Gordan is still in prison, she hasn't left."
Now things were getting far too confusing. The whole situation reeked of planted evidence. Catherine and Grissom were having the same thought and, glancing at each other, they agreed.
"It's time for us to talk to Kelly Gordan."
Despite Brass's injury, he'd insisted on being present during the interrogation of Kelly Gordan so he, Catherine and Sara found themselves looking across the table at the skinny, blonde convict. None of them spared any time for pity. They all realized that, in an unintentional way, the girl before them was responsible for what their friend had been through. Unfortunately for everyone gathered there, Kelly was proving just as uncooperative during this interview as she had the first time they'd gone to her looking for answers.
"For the last time," Kelly spat, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't seen or heard of this Nick guy since he came to see me in prison."
"And you weren't too pleased with that conversation were you?" Catherine shot back with just as much force, "Didn't make you too happy to be told what to do by someone who'd had a hand in your dear dad's death did it?" Catherine was grasping at straws and she knew it, but if they couldn't get this girl to admit to something, they'd be back at square one on their investigation. They needed something to track down whoever was doing this to Nick.
"Who'd you hire?" Brass spoke softly, his words gave no hint of the loathing he held for the creature that sat before him.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She insisted. "I haven't had a visitor since Nick…and I didn't exactly get very many before that either."
Catherine's frustration was increasing as she sat across from this girl. In any other situation she would have felt sorry for her. It was clear that her imprisonment had hardened this girl; she probably hadn't always been as she was now. But, where her friends and family were concerned, there was no room for interpretation as far as Catherine was concerned. She would never forgive this girl if she were the cause of more pain to her friend.
As Brass continued badgering the girl for information that she refused to surrender, a vibration in her pocket suddenly startled Catherine out of her reverie. She was about to turn the phone off so that she didn't miss any part of the interrogation when she noticed that it was Nick's cell number on her caller ID. Instead, with only a slight frustration at their lack of progress, she excused herself from the room and answered the call.
Nick's voice on the other end of the line sounded frazzled. He was panicking about something and it didn't take long for him to get straight to the point. He'd found another note in his house.
"Hello…did you see who left it, or how? … What about a sign of entry? … Where was the note? …" Nick was clearly not taking this second invasion well, he sounded frightened and Catherine couldn't blame him. The conversation did not last long. "What was on it Nick? … I'm on my way …Bye Nick."
Catherine flipped her phone shut and left the building once more to head for Nick's house. On the way she informed Warrick and Grissom what was going on and they insisted in accompanying her. Greg was still trying to process the photos found at the scene and Sara was still sitting in on the interrogation with Brass. Catherine didn't see a need to disturb either of them. She recalled what Nick had told her about the message written on the note. You missed a spot. It was clear now that whoever was planting these notes was not just trying to mess with Nick, but with the entire CSI nightshift. Catherine's resolve hardened, she refused to let someone hurt her team.
The drive back to Nick's house was uneventful. Catherine drove quickly, all the while telling herself not to panic. So far there was no evidence to suggest that whoever was dong this had any intention on hurting anyone. We have no idea what his intention is, Catherine admitted grudgingly.
When they arrived once again at Nick's front door Grissom and Warrick opened theback to retrieve their kits and Catherine walked towards the house. She knocked on Nick's door and was surprised when there was no response. She'd spoken to Nick less than twenty minutes ago and he'd known she was on her way…why wasn't he answering now?
In her concern, without even realizing what she was doing, Catherine turned the doorknob in front of her. She let out a small gasp of surprise when the door opened in front of her. Things were definitely getting weird; Nick should have locked his door.
Worried for her friend, Catherine walked slowly through the door into his living room, calling out his name. What she saw upon entering was enough to root her to her spot in the doorway. This time around her surprise was not expressed in a small gasp, but in a very piercing scream. Grissom and Warrick were soon behind her and the same dismal sight met their eyes.
On the floor in front of his couch Nick was lying unconscious on the floor. Next to his unconscious form lay a small, orange bottle, several of the small white pills it had previously held were strewn slightly across his dull, gray carpet.
Ohh and another nasty cliffhanger I know but I think I've gotten better about the speed of my updates so I'll really try not to leave you hanging for too long. I know this chapter wasn't quite as long as the last one but it was considerably longer than the first few. If you're enjoying the story (and if you're not for some reason too) please PLEASE review. I love reading them, even if they're only a couple of word long! (No pressure to write a 600-word review lol). Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed so far:
KatKnits00: Haha, thanks for the review but somehow I think if I were to reveal that information, it may take something away from the suspense of the story.
New creation: I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying it…I swear there is more to come (thought how much more I'm not really sure)
Everybetty: I'm glad you liked the line I used and I kinda hope that this chapter sheds a bit of light on why Nick refuses to flee…He's trying to keep himself from appearing weak mostly. Also, biting the nails is a truly bad habit (I hope my story isn't contributing it lol) I'll have to update as quickly as I can to save your nails.
Mma63: I had a great time on my trip, thanks so much for asking. I'm glad you like the story.
Rojaji: I know the longer the chapter the more you can get out of it and therefore the more enjoyable it can be but somehow I still didn't manage to get this chapter longer than the last one. I'm a firm believer in preventing the use of words just for the sake of a word count so I do try to prevent verbal diarrhea (as my dad likes to call it lol gross I know). Keep reading!
TPTB (anon.): Thank you so very much for the compliment! (Feels so nice). Enjoy this chapter and I'm glad you like my story enough to review. Thanks again.