Chapter 14
When Warrick had arrived at Lover's Leap, he saw Nick's car and two others. One presumably belonged to Stella, but he didn't take the time to wonder who owned the third car. He began to make his way towards the cliff just as Nick had done not too long ago, but stopped suddenly when a gun shot tore through the night. His heart leapt up into his throat and he was paralyzed momentarily. Seconds later, another shot rang out. He knew Nick wasn't armed but perhaps Stella had been. Perhaps he was too late.
"Please don't let me be too late!" he pleaded with the air and he took off into through the trees as fast as he could.
Nick had more close-calls than anyone else he'd ever known. They had even joked about it a couple of times. He had kidded Nick about having such bad luck. Always the one who had the gun pulled on him. Always the one tossed out of a window. Always the one with the stalker. But even though he always seemed to be the one in danger, Nick always managed to survive. He had extreme good luck in bad situations which was something that had always amazed Warrick. But now things didn't look so good. Had the famous Nick Stokes luck finally run out?
Running through the thickness of the trees was difficult, but Warrick did the best he could. His friend could be bleeding out, his life fading little by little every second. He needed to find him. Warrick couldn't bear the thought of letting his friend down, not after all Nick had done for him.
Not paying much attention to his feet, Warrick did not notice the root sticking up out of the ground until his foot got caught underneath it. He swore as he went crashing to the ground. However, being stunned by the impact allowed him to hear something that he wouldn't have been able to hear given the way he was rushing madly through the trees.
It was a voice. Not just any voice. It was Nick's voice. He couldn't tell what Nick was saying, but it was definitely his voice. Nick was still alive.
Relief washed over him and Warrick allowed himself a few seconds to calm his nerves before picking himself up again. Instead of resuming his rapid pace, Warrick crept through the trees as quietly as he could. He wasn't sure what he would find when he reached the clearing and he didn't want to announce his presence until he knew exactly what he was walking into.
Ever so carefully, he peaked through the trees and the sight he saw was not the one he had been expecting. Nick was on his knees with his hands behind his head and Victoria Winston was standing behind him with a gun. He saw that Nick's shirt and right pant leg were stained with blood and wondered if his friend was injured. He could see that Nick's lip was busted open and there blood running down his chin. Then his eyes landed on the body of Stella Barnes and he could see that her blouse was soaked in blood as well.
"She must have been shot. The blood on Nick's shirt must be hers. He probably got that while trying to help her. Doesn't make sense for her blood to be on only one pant leg though. He must be wounded as well. Took a bullet somewhere in the leg I'd wager." Warrick reasoned.
Remaining as still as possible, Warrick listened to what Victoria was saying to Nick.
"Tell me, given your profession, have you given much thought to your own death?" Victoria was saying in that cool, condescending tone of hers that Warrick hated.
"Dr. Winston, I'm confronted with my own mortality on a regular basis." Warrick was pleased to hear how steady Nick's voice sounded. He was amazed by his friend's courage.
"Does the thought of dying frighten you?" she asked in a way that chilled Warrick to the bone. There was no doubt in his mind. This woman was evil down to her very core.
"Not as much as it used to." Nick answered.
Warrick could tell that Nick was being honest and not just trying to make himself appear brave in front of the woman holding a gun to his head. He shook his head in wonder. What must it be like to be Nick Stokes? What must it be like to be thrust into one horrible situation after another until it almost became something of a second nature?
"How's that?" Victoria asked curiously.
"I've come through more than one harrowing situation." he said. Warrick noticed that Nick's face had turned slightly pale and he wondered just how badly he was injured.
"Tell me." It was not a request.
"A woman that my supervisor and I had dismissed as a threat pulled a gun on me and had me trapped in the back of her house. She was about to pull the trigger when my supervisor showed up and stopped her. Then there was this man who tossed me out of a second story window. Later that day, he crashed through my ceiling and threatened me with a gun. It turned out that he had been stalking me for a while. Taking my clothes. Watching me sleep." Warrick watched Nick close his eyes briefly, no doubt reliving these painful memories.
Once again, Warrick marveled at Nick's courageousness and his ability to take part in this disturbing conversation without showing any signs of the fear and anxiousness he must have been feeling. He had never seen this side of his friend before. Though he had never considered Nick to be a coward, Warrick had never thought of him as being particularly brave. This was probably due to the fact that Nick didn't go around flaunting his masculinity, proving that he was a tough guy who could handle anything.
Now, he was getting a first-hand taste of the power of Nick Stokes and the quiet, determined bravery he possessed. He was alone and wounded, having the support of no one but himself, and he was staying strong and in control of emotions. Warrick had never seen anything quite like it and it made his heart swell with pride.
"What an incredible violation." Victoria whispered happily. "You must still be feeling the effects of it."
Warrick snapped himself out of his thoughts. He had been so caught up with the scene playing out in front of him that he momentarily forgot the danger his friend as in. Victoria's cruel enjoyment of Nick's past traumas infuriated him. No longer would he wait in the shadows while his friend suffered both physically and emotionally. It was time to do something.
"Perhaps you are growing tired of this." Warrick heard Victoria say. He couldn't have asked for a better way to announce his presence.
"I know I am." he said, stepping out from behind the trees.
Warrick watched Nick's face transform, allowing his true emotions to finally break through the mask. The relief on his friend's face was evident and the smile on his face pleased Warrick. He was glad to see that he had proved worthy of Nick's faith in him.
But Nick was not out of the woods yet.
Warrick hardened his features as Victoria dropped to her knees and pressed herself up against Nick's back, making use of his body as a shield. She pressed the gun to his temple, knocking Nick's hands out of the way in the process. He let them drop to his side.
"Dr. Winston, this place is about to be swarming with cops. I strongly recommend that you drop that gun right now and move away from my partner." he said forcefully, his own gun held tightly in his hands.
There would be no talking this woman into backing down. She was too cold-hearted, too confident, too determined to see her actions through. He could not let his countenance falter.
"Or what, Mr. Brown? You'll shoot me? You wouldn't risk hitting your friend here, especially since he's already got one bullet in him." she teased. "Nick and I have been having quite a nice little chat. We're getting to know each other very well."
As she said this, she snaked an arm around Nick's waist and began to stroke his chest playfully. She pressed herself even closer to him, rubbing her body against his back.
"Haven't we, Nicky?" Her voice was barely audible, but the look on Nick's face spoke loud and clear to Warrick.
Warrick watched his partner's face contort with a mixture of emotions that he didn't quite fully understand. The sight of what Victoria was doing made him sick and he could only imagine what Nick must be feeling as the violated party. This was an intolerable position, one in which Warrick didn't quite know what to do. He didn't know how to fight back. He'd had some training in hostage situations, but he was more prepared for a shoot out than for seeing his friend's dignity being shred to pieces right in front of him. The lower Victoria's hand went, the sicker he felt.
Then he saw Nick's lips form that thin line he knew so well. Instinctively, Warrick knew that Nick was going to make something happen. He didn't blame him. He wouldn't have liked that woman touching him either. But when the struggling started, Warrick was put in an awkward spot. He had no clean shot of Victoria because Nick was on top of her and Warrick was not about to risk hitting Nick.
Warrick's mind was calculating the best way to help his friend while simultaneously taking in the struggle before him. He could rush forward and try to break it up, but he didn't know if that would be the best thing to do or not. The last thing that he needed to have let happen was for Victoria to somehow manage to get his gun away from him. He watched them struggle, hoping that Nick would prevail. Of course, Nick would have a much better chance at prevailing if he quit being a gentleman.
"Hit the woman, Nick! No one's gonna judge you!" Warrick thought angrily.
He wasn't sure what had happened, but he heard Nick let out a cry of pain and Warrick saw the gun go sailing through the air. About thirty feet away, he watched his friend stagger to his feet in an attempt to retrieve the gun and was about to move forward to help when Victoria slammed into Nick.
Suddenly, Warrick's senses went on full alert as he took in the full ramifications of the scene playing out before him. Nick and Victoria were too close to the edge and they didn't seem to notice as they struggled with one another.
"Nick! Stop!" he shouted, rushing forward. "You're too close to the edge!"
His warning came too late.
Warrick's heart stopped as he watched his friend plummet over the edge. He had failed his friend. He swayed in his spot, his body threatening to be overtaken by a staggering amount of grief.
He felt completely numb. He couldn't breathe. Time seemed to have stopped altogether. He had been this close to Nick and he had let him go over the edge without lifting a hand to help him. He had just stood there like a fool, watching his friend struggle for his life. So much for repaying the friend who had supported him through his own moment of terror a few days ago.
"Warrick!" The silence of the night shattered all around him.
For the second time that night, he was greeted by a voice he had not expected to hear.
"Help me!"
Hardly daring to believe his ears, his feet carried him to the edge and he peered over.
There was Nick, one white-knuckled hand clutching a rock that was jutting out from the side of the cliff and the other hand clutching Victoria Winston. A few seconds ago, the woman had been trying to kill him and now she was clinging to Nick's wrist for dear life.
Warrick reached down to help his friend, but Nick shook his head.
"No!" he puffed, his neck muscles bulging.
Understanding his meaning, Warrick did not question his friend. It was just like Nick to risk his life to save another, even if she was a murderer. He leaned down on the ledge and stretched his arm out to Victoria.
"Give me your hand!" Warrick ordered Victoria.
She was frantic, coming completely unhinged as she dangled from Nick's wrist. She seemed unwilling to let go.
"Give it to me now!" he shouted more forcefully. "I'm not going to let you fall!"
He bent down lower so that his hand was just a few inches above hers. Slowly, she let go of Nick's wrist and grabbed Warrick's hand.
"Now give me your other one!" he ordered and she complied.
"Now, try to climb up the side of the cliff." he instructed. "I won't drop you. I promise."
Carefully, Victoria managed to climb up the side of the cliff aided by Warrick's strength. While she did this, the CSI stole a quick glance at his partner. Nick's face was red and Warrick noticed that he was having trouble raising his other arm to grab on to the rock to which he was clinging. He did not look like he was going to be able to hold on for much longer.
Warrick redoubled his efforts, pulling Victoria up to the point where the top half of her body was laying on top of the ledge. From behind him, someone called out his name and Warrick turned to see Brass rushing towards him, followed by three uniformed cops.
"Help me!" he cried unnecessarily.
The detective grabbed Victoria and began to pull the woman all the way to safety while Warrick turned his attention to Nick.
"Give me your hand, Nick." Warrick said.
Nick grunted, struggling with his arm which didn't seem to want to obey him. Warrick could see the pain and weariness in his eyes.
"I know it hurts, but it's gonna hurt a lot worse if you don't give me your hand right now. Come on, buddy. You can do it." Warrick encouraged.
Letting out a frustrated cry of pain, Nick forced his arm to swing upwards and he grabbed Warrick's hand.
"That's it." Warrick said as he began to help his friend climb up the side of the cliff. The effort of having to support his full weight on his injured leg caused Nick to grit his teeth in pain, but he endured it.
Slowly. Carefully. Deliberately.
Finally, Nick's top half collapsed on the ground and his friend pulled the rest of him on to solid ground. Warrick forced his friend to stand and half carried him a few feet away from the edge before falling to the ground, exhausted.
Brass had immediately hauled Victoria to her feet and barked out her rights while one of the uniforms cuffed her. Another uniform was bending over the body of Stella while speaking into his radio. The third uniform was wondering the perimeter, making sure that there were no other surprises lurking in the shadows.
"The ambulance is on its way." The detective was too relieved to say anything else to the CSIs, who were panting on the ground in an attempt to calm their nerves. He decided to leave them in peace for the moment and carted his suspect away.
The two men were silent for a few minutes, each too drained to say anything at the moment. Warrick quietly went to work. He stripped off his shirt and began to fashion a tourniquet for Nick's leg. His undershirt did not protect him very much against the chill of the night, but he took no notice. He was too focused on helping his friend.
Finally, Nick spoke through his heavy panting."Thanks for coming. Thanks for pulling me up."
Warrick gave a genuine yet tired smiled. "You know I got your back."