He felt like he had fallen asleep at the beach after drinking so much that he had puked his guts out. His skin felt heavy, like some oily coat pressing along his bones, his whole body wrapped in thick plastic... hot... sticky... and terribly ill.
Nick tried to move, but his body did not want to cooperate. It hurt to breathe, and it took a hell of a lot of effort to coax his lungs into performing the necessary function. God, why couldn't he crawl away from this fucking sand dune?
A sunburn scorched his skin and if he could just crack open his eyes and get his feet moving then maybe he'd find some shade to lie under. He opened his parched mouth, peeling away dry lips. Instead of forming words, he made a sort of groaning sound.
He heard a faint voice, like someone talking to him through muffled cotton.
Nick shook his heavy-leaden head and tilted it to one side. He slowly opened his eyes. A blurry room swam in and out of view.
He squinted, his intake of breath, caused a sharp ripping spasm of pain across his stomach.
That forced his eyes open again. "G—god damn... t-that... hurts."
Taking the necessary moment to ride out the throbbing, Nick allowed his eyes adjust to his surroundings.
"Catherine?" he asked when he saw her expression light up at his horribly dry-sounding voice.
She grabbed his hand, her smile genuinely relieved. "You finally decided to wake up."
Nick squeezed her hand back, caught off-guard by her desperation. He tried to smile at her, but the more his brain processed the situation, the more he felt a sense of dread.
Realizing what had happened… little flashes of the lab, and the descending darkness. Nick fell back into a depressed frame of mind.
He was too late.
Nick felt Catherine glide her hand lightly over his arm. "You had us very worried, Nicky," she said, her throat choking up slightly.
He wanted to respond, to give her words of comfort, but the truth was, he felt weak, and exhausted. His mind began to close down, not really wanting to talk to anyone. Because if he tried to talk to his friend and coworker, then he would know that the child was dead.
"Nick?"
He was too drained to respond.
Catherine took his limp hand into both of hers, gripping it tightly. "We haven't found him yet. There's still hope."
He didn't reply.
"Grissom is working on it. We all are, Nicky." She wanted to ask him what had been eating away at her, but Catherine knew better to press the issue right now. Nick was still very sick.
Dr. Taylor quietly entered the room. She looked over at the female CSI who nodded her head over at the man trying to ignore them both.
"Finally graced us with you presence, Mr. Stokes?" she teased gently.
Nick opened his eyes and glanced at her irritably.
"You can act like that if you want. It's certainly better than how you've been lately," she continued, checking the read-out of the machines.
The physician took off her stethoscope and began listening to his chest.
"H-hey, that's cold," he complained.
Dr. Taylor ignored him, concentrating to his breathing. "Please be quiet,
now." After assessing for any signs of pneumonia, she placed the back of her hand against the side of his face.
Catherine looked at the doctor oddly. The nurse had just been in earlier for a vitals check.
"Don't you have a thermometer for that," he said in a terribly raspy voice.
She eyed him. "We have the infection under control."
Catherine continued to hang on to his hand and gather her emotions back under control. "You should thank Dr. Taylor, Nicky. She and many of the nurses have been working around the clock to fix all the stuff you subjected yourself to."
The guilt made him look at both women. It was like seeing the eyes of his mother two-fold. He didn't need this. It wasn't like he didn't feel like death warmed over.
The physician looked over at his sullen eyes. "You're still running a fever, but it's not nearly as high as it was before. We're still going to keep pumping tons of fluids and antibiotics into your system."
Nick finally took stock of himself. His belly still felt like it was fire, his skin definably did. He could barely keep his eyes open, and it was hard for him to focus on anything. Nick lifted up his shaky right hand and absently toyed with his IV line, but Catherine grabbed a hold of it to keep it still.
Closing his eyes he turned to look over at Catherine "No—n-new leads?"
Catherine held his hand down to his body, preventing him from idly playing with the tube. "No, Nick. We know who he is, but we're still looking."
The physician looked over at the other woman. "I'll check up on you two in a while." She turned her attention to the CSI. "A nurse will come soon to give you some pain medication."
Nick fought his misery. He wanted to push all the sheets way from him, from his fevered flesh. Nick was so uncomfortable... but did he even have the right to complain?
Catherine moved her hand to rest on his shoulder. "Warrick and Gil were here, and once you started responding to the treatment, they left to help with the investigation. But right now, you need to rest. You've been through a terrible ordeal."
No, it wasn't right. But it was too much to cope with his damaged body. He couldn't hold onto a single thought. The burning sensation of his torn abdomen and the fever that still zapped and consumed his energy lulled him back to a fitful slumber.
Matt Todd looked like any other person, any other criminal. He didn't possess any kind of mannerism, tick, or even evoked the image of a child molester. Gil Grissom observed an interview with the man, before taking a seat in front of him. Most suspects had little things about their personality that sometimes, lit up like a blip on some radar.
Grissom didn't pick up a thing. The guy sitting in a drab jailhouse uniform was a defeated and beaten man. Gil wondered what about him had sent Nick's internal sensors on overload.
"I told the other guy that I've never hurt my sons. NEVER," Matt Todd started the conversation off, after too many moments of silence.
"You reformed after the Church relocated you," Grissom stated… his voice silky smooth. Nothing laced, nothing to instigate or irritate.
"Yes. I didn't tell Marisa until later. I owed it to her, she… it took her a long time to get over it. But she fell in love with me… not that other sick man," Matt Todd explained.
"It's good to have a support system. Is that why you were nervous about telling us earlier in the investigation?" Grissom asked… still calm and even.
Matt Todd squirmed, shaking his head. He started talking down into his hands. "It takes so long to escape your past. To not look in the mirror and see the controlling, demented man you once were. I had a family..." he looked up. "A normal life."
Grissom pushed his glassed forward. "You were afraid of giving that all up. That exposing your past would open you up as a suspect. That all of your years of living to society's code would be wiped away."
Matt started chewing on his lips. "Didn't matter did it? I mean… it came out anyway and now my other son is probably dead now."
Grissom was silent.
Matt stared. "None of this helps find that bastard or find my little boy. Why do you even care about this stuff now?"
Grissom leaned on his elbows that rested on the table. "I wanted to learn about a man's motivation."
Matt snorted, "Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable. Is that it? You don't want to know my motives."
The left side of Grissom's lip twitched. "There are two levers for moving men -- interest and fear…" Grissom rose from his set.
"And I wasn't interested in yours."
Grissom turned around and exited the room without further comment.
Grissom sat in the conference room watching his assembled team. He noted two absent chairs, but dragged his eyes back to the piles of files and papers on the table.
"What do we have?"
Sara and Greg pulled out sheets and graphs that had been made. The rookie looked over at the female criminalist who gave him a nod of encouragement.
"Now that we have someone to track, we were able to trace Trent Walker's movements across the country. Every city he moved to corresponded with an area the Todd's had relocated to."
Greg pointed to his data: dates, cities, schools- all equivalent with their suspect's movements.
"How did he get near the other kids? Do we know, or have any guesses" Warrick asked, sipping on some hot tea.
"He didn't change identities during his travels. He only stole his new persona after it was clear he was going to get near his main target's family," Greg explained.
"He lived off a pension from the military," Sara added.
Grissom nodded. "That was an honorable discharge?"
"As far as we can tell," Sara answered.
"What about relatives?" the supervisor prodded.
"Nadda," Warrick answered. "His grandparents died before he was born, and he doesn't have any siblings. He has an aunt in New York, but they have not spoken in many years."
"What about these buildings that Todd constructed? There have been more around town, right?" Grissom asked, flipping through some of Sara's research from earlier.
"He built the new wing to the church, a YMCA, an outreach center for rape victims, and he's in the middle of constructing a new park." Sara explained.
Greg smiled. "Good memory."
Sara shrugged.
"All right. Let's get Brass and some uniforms to start searching those buildings. If Walker is obsessed about his original abuser, maybe he's hiding out at one of the places he helped build," Grissom said, trying to move the case forward.
The supervisor was very aware that it had now been close to three days since Jason had been abducted. He was all ready thinking about possible dumpsites.
"What about where Johnny Todd was first found? Any link there?" Sara asked.
Warrick looked across the table and glanced over at Sara for the first time during the meeting; he didn't hide a glare. "I don't think he had anything to do with those run-down businesses," he told her his tone dismissive.
"But has anyone checked them out?" Sara asked, as she stared back at the other criminalist.
Grissom leaned back in his chair. "Warrick, go look into it."
"I would have found something earlier, Griss," he defended.
The supervisor sighed. "Just do it, Warrick. You have a fresh perspective now."
Grissom gave the indication that the meeting was finished and the rest of the team exited, leaving the two men. Grissom fingered a few reports, but didn't speak to his coworker who was obviously wanted to be heard.
"You think I should have intervened with Nick."
Grissom didn't look up. "I think watching out for a coworker involves more than covering for them. It's about taking a step back and doing things you don't want to."
"Like Sara." Warrick stared at his cup of tea. His superior continued to fiddle with his papers. "For your information, Nick wouldn't talk to me. I tried."
Warrick got up to head out. Before he left, he hovered in the doorway.
"Maybe I did make a mistake. Maybe Nick did too. But if it wasn't for his single-mindedness, we'd still be wandering around in circles."
Grissom looked up finally. "Obsessive behavior has no place in the field. It clouds your mind... where stupid and dangerous mistakes are made. You always have to keep perspective," he challenged.
Warrick leaned on the doorjamb. "And you've always done that?" Warrick shot at him and then walked away before receiving an answer.
Grissom tossed his paper aside and rubbed his fingers into his temples. He took off his glasses and tried to focus… to keep to his own advice, when he heard the door close.
He threw his glasses back on ready to argue with Warrick some more when he noticed Conrad Ecklie standing there with an unreadable expression.
Grissom groaned. He did not need this right now. He didn't want to listen to this man question his decisions, or dress down one of his best employees while he lay in a hospital bed.
Grissom mentally prepared himself for the lecture, but when he looked at Eckile's expression, he instantly got very nervous.
Conrad looked... sympathetic… on edge.
"What is it?" Grissom didn't want to wait.
The Assistant Director sighed, but didn't mince words. "We got a call from your suspect."
Grissom stood up. "We?"
"The tape is in the AV lab."
"He called here?" Grissom moved in front of the other man.
Ecklie snorted. "Yeah. He dialed the front desk and told them to record his message as he was only going to say it once. Judy quickly alerted one of the techs."
Grissom let out a small breath. "What did he say?"
Ecklie stood straighter. "He says that Jason Todd is still alive."
Grissom tilted his head. "And?"
Ecklie swallowed uncomfortably. "He'll hand him over if Nick exchanges himself for the boy."
Grissom let his mouth hang open. For once, he was too shocked to respond.
tbc...
notes at my bio.