Warrick and Greg were trying to speed through the tedious disinfection process which only resulted in both of them dropping the soap in the sink several times. Each man tried to remain calm, while wondering why Grissom had demanded that they get to the hospital as quickly as possible. It wasn't too difficult- they were on their way anyhow. It was the mere fact that Grissom was so adamant and on his way as well that caused the anxiety to grow between both of them.
Warrick was finally deemed bacteria-free enough to enter the room, with Greg following as quickly as possible. Neither man knew if Nick had suffered a setback, as the supervisor had simply ended his call after the demanding message.
Warrick did not expect to run right into a full-blown battle inside the room. Catherine was arguing with Nick using her pissed-off mother tone, while Dr. Taylor looked like she was about to throttle her patient.
"Hey, hey. What's going on in here?" Warrick asked, his voice halting the stand-off.
When he stood next to Catherine, it was the first time Warrick noticed Nick's oxygen abandoned and lying over the side of the railing. Nick looked over at him. It was obvious he wasn't thrilled at the idea of their arrival. His partner's face had beads of perspiration rolling down his face, and he was breathing rapidly and heavily. Warrick knew whatever was causing his aggravated state could not be good for him.
"Whoa... Nick. Chill, man. Take it easy."
Nick ignored him as he started to pull out his IV.
"Now stop that, Mr. Stokes!" his physician chastised as she tried to grab his hand.
"Nick!" Catherine hollered.
Dr. Taylor pressed her hand over her patient's, calming his increasingly reckless movements.
Nick kept his hand still; his physician's still covering it. Frustrated, he bit back a defeated noise, resting his head back against the bed and sighed heavily. He took a few moments to compose himself. Nick opened his eyes, and gave his audience an exhausted and pleaded look.
"I need to leave. He'll give Jason Todd back if I go over there," Nick explained, his voice nearly cracking in desolation.
Warrick and Catherine remained mute, obviously struck by the sheer desperation from the other man. Dr. Taylor slowly removed her hand, and tried to pull up his blanket. An air of calm settled in the room, the silence only interrupted by the sounds of Greg Sanders' shoes as he crept up closer to where he nearly hid behind his taller partner.
"What are you talking about?" Greg asked.
Nick closed his eyes before speaking. "Walker called me here. He knows about the SWAT team you guys sent after him. He's rigged wherever he is with explosives and he'll let Jason go…" Nick trailed off, knowing how his friends would react.
"Oh, hell, Nick! No way you're just going to give yourself to that bastard," Warrick protested.
Nick took a long breath. "He'll kill him, bro. Follow me, send in a team in after me, but we have our way… our chance."
"Dude, can you even get out of bed?" Greg asked, speaking up for a second time with a line of logic that seemed to escape the other man.
Nick shot his friend a scowl.
"Ummm, excuse me for interrupting your debate, but your friend is right, Mr. Stokes." Dr. Taylor's words brought everyone's attention to her. "If you had been brought in here just hours later than you were, you could have died."
Catherine gave her coworker a scorching look, which was reflected in the other CSI's expressions.
He opened his heavy lids, his voice as steady as it was ever going to be.
"It's my decision. Either you help me, or get the hell out of my room."
Gil Grissom stood motionless in the corner of the room. His skin still tingled from having a layer rubbed away. The protocol of the room was to keep the occupant free from germs, quiet for rest, and monitored closely for vital signs. Grissom wasn't sure why he still had to be subjected to a set of rules that were being broken one by one from the single-minded and self-destructive behavior of one man.
His CSI sometimes showed empathy, yes, but he almost always exhibited intelligence, diligence and forethought. Nick Stokes possessed an amazing mind, and right now this very same person was completely and totally blinded by the right and illogical side of his brain.
Captain Brass and members of the SWAT team waited for their arrival several miles away. Catherine and Warrick hovered inside the private room while Sara and Greg waited at the scene. Greg Sanders was only too happy to escape the surreal atmosphere of the room, while Sara wanted no part in such irrational decisions.
Nick's bed was pushed forward so he was sitting straight. A nurse removed the IV from his arm, and placed a bandage over the hole.
A curtain had been draped around while the foley had been removed, Nick's uncomfortable grunts of pain inescapable. Catherine kept sending Gil evil looks, screaming at him to do something, say the magic words that would convince Nick that this was the stupidest thing ever. Catherine knew that somehow he had some magical hold on the young criminalist, but deep down inside, even he knew his words would have no weight.
Warrick held onto a plastic bag that contained a simple pair of khaki slacks and a button-down shirt. Nick had refused a set of sweatpants as if the items were an undignified set of clothes to wear when meeting with a psychotic child murderer. Grissom studied the remarkably selfless CSI. Nick's strength was waning despite his brave front.
Dr. Taylor had been a constant commentator from the get-go. She was stubborn to a fault about her patient's well-being. Nick glanced at his direction every once in a while almost expecting… waiting for something... anything.
Gil lacked the encouragement or the acceptance that Nick sought. Not when he struggled with wrapping his brain over this whole situation. Grissom finally turned down the volume of his internal musings when Dr. Taylor began her instructions.
"I'm re-inserting the IV in after you change. You're going to keep it until you have to get out of the car. It's the only source for fluids and antibiotics. You need to keep your system pumped full till the last possible moment."
Nick nodded accepting the terms of his release. He had not spoken very much, probably trying to conserve as much energy as possible.
"I'm giving you a vitamin shot as well as something to boost your stamina. It'll give you a little energy, but once it's done, you'll crash hard." She explained.
Warrick continued to tense up at every little set of instructions. He stood rigidly by the doctor's side, his frown almost etched into his features.
"I don't know what you think you'll be doing. But, don't pull on those new stitches," she warned.
"Yeah," Nick said quietly.
Dr. Taylor's frown deepened. She put the back of her hand over his cheek. "You're still very warm," she said, shaking her head. "I'll add one more dose of fever-reducer before we leave."
"We?" Nick asked.
Dr. Taylor looked at her patient as if he had grown two heads. "I'm not letting you go off to some absurd standoff, without a doctor present until the last possible moment. Whenever you're done riding your white stallion, I'll be there to try to salvage all my hard work," she said in a voice that reflected his own stubborness.
Nick simply gaped at her, while he heard Warrick mumble a few comments under his breath. After a moment, Nick managed to wander over to the edge of the bed. He tentatively placed his feet to the floor and put all his weight down as he stood up. He didn't fall face first at the sudden bout of dizziness.
Warrick was by his side, grabbing a hold of his arm. Catherine was at his other elbow as he stood still for several moments, his face even whiter than it had been a few seconds earlier. Gil stood with his arms crossed, still silent as Nick took a few steps forward, leaning on Warrick as he moved.
"I need to change clothes."
Dr. Taylor shook her head and pulled the curtain around for his privacy. Nick looked over at Catherine and gave her a look. When she didn't respond he simply cleared his throat. "Ahh, Cath… um---"
Catherine rolled her eyes. "Denying me a cheap thrill, eh." She patted his shoulder and wandered around the curtain. Warrick did the manly thing by standing by and only assisting Nick with changing if it really seemed like he needed the extra help. His shoes were the most obvious challenge and he sat back on the bed, while his partner laced up his boots so the man didn't have to bend. With that task complete, Warrick stood up shaking his head.
"I don't get this, Nick," he said frowning.
"You don't have to," Nick said. Seeing his partner's almost hurt expression, Nick bit his lip. "I'm sorry, man."
Warrick tentatively placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Just let SWAT take this guy out and get yourself back in one piece."
"It's all I want to do." Nick was quiet for a moment then looked over at his friend. "I need you to do me a favor."
Warrick narrowed his eyes. "Name it."
After being wheeled out of the hospital and loaded into the back of the SUV, Nick tried to rest on the way over to the scene. The drive was quiet and the CSI almost nodded off by the time they had reached the church. When the vehicle approached several checkpoints, Nick was instantly alert. He'd never really been part of a major operation like this before and it was ever more bizarre than anything he seen in the movies.
There were dozens of cop cars, unmarked vehicles as well as a van from a special unit deployed to such situations. As the car came to a stop, Dr. Taylor started to pull out the IV that was hung on the little hook meant for transporting clothes.
Nick looked at her. "I'll be back soon." He gave her a small grin.
She didn't return it as the car door opened and he dragged himself out.
Nick stood behind a van that was filled with surveillance equipment. The commander of the SWAT team was an older guy with a graying mustache and hair. Captain Henry was giving out instructions to his snipers who were positioned on various roof tops and areas around the building. The rest of the CSI team huddled in a small group beside Nick, as each of them looked around hesitantly at all the activity buzzing around them.
Captain Jim Brass stood next to the SWAT leader, listening to all of words with interest. Finally, the burly man turned his attention to the criminalist in front of him.
"Captain Brass has given you the rundown, but let me go over things one more time. Try to keep your distance from the suspect. Don't go near him. Don't do anything he says until you see the child and verify that he is alive."
Nick nodded.
"My guys will keep you in their sights. As soon as they have a clear target they will take their shot. Got it?"
"Yeah." Nick looked over at his fellow coworkers; he saw their extreme worry and tried to keep his focus on the man in front of him.
"We're going to put a wire in your vest, so we can hear what's going on around you. If you see or notice anything funny, just speak softly, we'll hear it."
"How far away will your team be?" Jim spoke up.
Captain Henry looked over at him. "I have to keep my guys far away enough from a possible blast, but we have a bomb squad here to defuse any explosives."
Jim didn't look happy at the comment.
"So you're saying that Nick is just going to walk over there without any protection," Sara accused.
The commander shot her a tense expression. "My guys are the best. As soon as they have a shot, he'll be taken down quickly. Mr. Stokes has an entire team watching over him. You don't need to be near the target to strike it."
"This is ridiculous," Sara said as she stalked away.
Greg went up to his friend, obviously nervous. "Tell Jason we'll hook him up with the new Sony PSP, I mean Gameboy is so old-school." He smiled weakly as he reached out to touch his arm, and then quickly backed away to go after Sara.
Warrick handed Nick his vest, which he put on slowly, grimacing slightly.
Brass took the wired device out of the SWAT commander's hands and clipped it inside the vest and secured it in place. Then he zipped up the clothing. "Don't mess around with this guy," he warned.
The SWAT commander pressed his hands to an ear piece. "We're ready for you to proceed, Mr. Stokes."
Catherine walked over to her coworker of so many years. She grabbed his hand even if it was unprofessional, not caring if it looked like some overly emotional reaction to the stress of the event. She leaned towards him, ignoring how every eye was on her actions.
"God, Nicky. This is so... so stupid." Catherine choked back any outward struggle. "But… I understand." She looked up at his dark brown eyes and squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean I'm not pissed off right now. Why do you have to be the one, huh?"
Catherine didn't expect a response, not fully understanding what was going through Nick's mind. She didn't even know if he fully accepted the consequences. But she knew the gut feeling that caused him to risk his life for that of a child. She hugged him as fiercely as she could without hurting him, and kissed his cheek.
"Be careful, Nick," she whispered. Catherine hoped that when all was said and done, she would force him to talk to someone about all the crap that was long ago pushed away, but boiling beneath the surface of this very brave man.
Nick accepted the kind gesture and didn't look over as Catherine she walked away. He did steal a glance at his boss and mentor. Nick looked over at Grissom with an unreadable expression. He hesitated for the briefest of seconds, his eyes searching his superior's. Nick opened his mouth to speak, but then he quickly turned around and started going towards the building.
When Catherine walked over to Grissom she gave him an irritated expression. "I can't believe you just stood there without saying a word, Gil," she whispered angrily.
Grissom simply unfolded his arms. "I could say the same of you, Catherine," and he walked away and got inside the surveillance truck.
Nick saw the small set of steps that lead to the door. There was a short flight that was straight ahead and then a few steps to the right at a landing. He looked out of the corner of his eye at all the awaiting snipers' movements as they got into position.
Nick walked slowly, taking the railing to help guide him up. The shot at the hospital had helped. He felt a small sense of energy, and his mind was solely focused as he moved one foot in front of the other.
"I'm getting closer," he said quietly, and then chuckled to himself. Of course they could see him. He just felt better talking out loud.
Nick's face was sweating badly; he wiped at his brow. His limbs felt like they were on pins and needles- he was so fucking tense. He reached the second set of concrete steps and was starting up those when the door cracked.
Nick froze.
"Don't move any further," a voice commanded.
Nick remained on the third step leading to the little landing. He peered straight ahead. Nick ignored the way everything seemed to tilt and sway. He kept a death hold on the railing. Slowly the door in front of him squeaked ajar. There was some rustling, and then Nick saw him. Jason Todd was in the coach's arms, held securely in front of him. Nick could see the little boy as he wiggled in the man's grasp.
Nick swallowed, trying to keep his anger and fear at bay. Jason looked straight at him, their eyes locking. Nick tried to smile back to convey some sense of calm.
"Come closer."
Nick's jaw tightened. He inched up the next step, enough to look like he was complying, but not so close to interfere with any shot that a sniper might have.
Nick was only two steps away from the landing.
"I have a trigger device in my hands. If you do anything foolish, it'll detonate the explosives attached to the door."
Nick idly wondered just how sensitive his little microphone was, but he didn't say anything just in case it gave away his wire. Trent Walker moved slowly out of the doorway. He held little Jason against his chest, with one arm holding the child along the waist. The man was smart. Jason was aligned with his body, and he had barely crept away from the entrance.
"Come on. I just want to talk with you," Trent calmly explained.
Nick placed his foot on the next step; he was even with the landing, but a good two feet away from the kidnapper.
Walker kept moving side to side, never quite standing still. He took a tiny step forward, but Jason was squirming in his grasp, obviously the man was holding him so tightly that he was hurting the child. Nick felt his anger swell and he moved closer, his hand on the railing to keep him steady. Nick could see a small device in Walker's left hand that he kept flush against the struggling child.
"Just let him go," Nick ordered.
Walker leaned against the wide open door, his body keeping it from closing. He was near the railing, his movements jerky enough that Nick knew the snipers didn't have a shot.
Nick was feeling a bit woozy, but he kept his focus ahead. "Just let the child go. I'm here and we can talk," he said trying to get the boy away from the monster.
Walker moved just a little closer. He was just a foot away from the CSI. "Fine. Have it your way."
Walker turned to his right, the child now over the landing and dangling several feet in the air from the ground below. Nick's eyes grew large as Walker chucked the little boy over. Nick lunged after the child grabbing him by shoulder to keep him from falling. With adrenaline screaming in his over-taxed body, Nick swung Jason back away from the open air and over towards the steps.
Nick felt the pain of his still sore abdomen and let go of the boy. Nick had to twist around to grab the child and with his back towards the suspect, Walker quickly snagged his vest from behind and pulled him towards him.
Just as Jason's feet landed, Nick felt himself get yanked away. "Run, Jason!" he yelled at the child, as he was dragged backwards and into the doorway.
As soon as Nick felt the child slip from his fingertips, the boy had run down the stairs and the door slammed shut in front of his face. Nick landed painfully to the floor, as Trent Walker loomed over him.
"Now we can talk."
tbc...
More notes at my bio