Chapter Fourteen

Greg was leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting, and glared as Grissom, Catherine and Sara exited the break room. The glare didn't last long.

It had been strong when Grissom came out, because he didn't even spare a glance Greg's way as he went down the hall, face set. Catherine walked out looking at the floor with her fingers locked behind her neck, and Sara was only a couple of steps behind her, wiping her eyes. It was seeing Sara cry that really got to him.

Greg pushed himself off of the wall. "How'd it go?" he asked pointedly, to make sure they knew he was well aware that he had been kept out of the loop on this one.

Catherine shook her head. "Not now, Greg."

Sara excused herself and went off in the direction of the restrooms. Greg watched her leave and turned back to Catherine. "How'd it go?"

"Greg," she said in a warning tone.

He shrugged. "I was just wondering, since I wasn't there to know."

Catherine raised her eyebrows. "It went really badly. That what you wanted to know? You happy?"

Greg instantly wished he could take back the tone in which he'd asked the question, because it was obvious things hadn't gone anything like they'd hoped. Not that he knew what that was, exactly. And not that he still wasn't pissed.

The door opened again, and Warrick and Nick exited. Warrick was shooting that warning look around at anyone that happened to be in the hall, saying without saying, don't say a word. Nick just stared at the wall, as if refusing to take the chance of making eye contact with anyone. Greg frowned when he saw the ice pack Nick was holding to the back of his head.

Nick mumbled something to Warrick, who nodded. Nick walked away, and Warrick came towards them. Catherine gave him a wide-eyed questioning look, and Warrick smiled reassuringly.

"He's just getting his jacket."

She nodded. "That just…wasn't what I was expecting."

Warrick shook his head. "Yeah, me neither."

Greg cleared his throat to draw their attention. Warrick and Catherine both had those looks that often intimidated him and made him nervous and got him to back down, but he masked it with a nice little bit of sarcasm. "You guys wanna clue me in on what's going on around here?" he asked with mock pleasantry.

Warrick frowned and jerked his head towards an empty lab room behind him.

Greg made sure he was the first in the room so that he could whirl on the others. "So tell me, how'd your little team intervention go?"

Catherine held up a hand. "Look, Greg, we get that you're pissed, but now is not the time."

"It's just nice to know you guys think of me as part of the team," Greg said sarcastically.

Warrick slammed his hands on the table and Greg jumped.

"Damn it, Greg. This isn't about you!"

Greg's eyes widened, and then he hung his head. He'd thought that he had a justifiable reason to be angry with the rest of his team for excluding him, but Warrick was right, and this wasn't about him. It was about Nick. "You're right, Warrick. I'm sorry." Greg looked over at Catherine, too, meeting her eyes. "Sorry, Catherine."

Warrick shook his head, and smiled a bit. "Nah, man. I shouldn't have yelled like that." He ran a hand over his face. "I swear, it was just a spur of the moment thing, and if we'd seen you, you would have been right there with us."

Greg believed him, his anger fading away, replaced by guilt with a side of humiliation. "How'd it go?"

This time, there was nothing but genuine concern behind his words, thinking about what Catherine had said. "It went really badly."

Catherine looked away, and Warrick shook his head. "It wasn't good, Greggo."

Greg frowned sympathetically. "Did he feel like he was being attacked?"

"I guess you could put it that way," Warrick sighed. "He passed out."

Greg nearly choked on the air he was breathing. "What?"

Warrick didn't answer him, was looking at the door, where Nick was standing with a less-than-happy expression on his face.

"Ready?" Nick asked in a flat tone.

Greg didn't know why exactly, but he felt guilty. Warrick and Catherine looked it, as well. It seemed they'd been doing something wrong.

"Yeah, man," Warrick said, but Nick was already moving away. Warrick swore under his breath.

"God, he's never going to trust us if he thinks all we do is talk about him," Catherine said.

"Face it, Cath," Warrick said with a somber expression. "It is all we do."

Nick didn't know how long he sat on his couch before it hit him, that was all he was doing. He looked down at his hand, where he was still clutching the now-crumpled piece of paper Warrick had given to him to in the car. They'd sat in the driveway for a while. Apparently, Warrick thought Nick couldn't even walk into his damned house on his own.

Something else they probably talked about, he thought bitterly. He was sick of being their only topic of conversation. He wanted to show them how wrong they were. How strong he was. He knew what he needed to do.

Nick bit his lip and reached for the phone on the side table. Somewhat shakily, he punched in the number on the paper.

Warrick sighed. "Alright, man. You win. Just give this guy a chance, okay? He knows what he's doing." He shoved a piece of paper into Nick's fist.

"Yeah, hi. I was wondering if…do you have an appointment for Nick Stokes? Yeah, Nicholas. I'm going to have to cancel that appointment. I'm not going to be able to make it that day. Yeah, I'll be sure to call and reschedule when I can fit it in. Okay, thank you. Uh huh. Bye."

As soon as he hung up the phone, Nick found himself having to take a few deep breaths. What is the matter with you? You can't even talk on the phone now? It wasn't the phone, it was the stranger on the other end of the line.

The little nagging voice in his head, which sounded a lot like Gil Grissom, was telling him that he shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have cancelled the appointment. Told he was being stubborn out of spite for feeling cornered and betrayed by the people he was supposed to be able to trust. And maybe it was true. Nick didn't like to entertain the idea that he could be spiteful. He was a think-it-through, rational person. And right now, he rationally thought that he just needed to work through things on his own. Talking to someone about his problems had never helped him before.

Nick yawned and remembered how tired he was. The action caused his head to hurt and he winced. He got up and went to find some aspirin, and then he was going to sleep. Maybe he could get an hour or so in before Warrick called to check up on him, an offer he'd relented to with a forced smile. He hadn't been mad at Warrick before, but the same thing could not be said now.

Not wanting to go all the way into his bedroom, Nick grabbed the blanket off of the back of the couch and curled up under it. Aided by what was possibly a slight concussion, Nick fell asleep instantly for the first time in months. Also for the first time in months, there were no dreams.

However, exactly like every time he had tried to sleep in the last few months, it didn't last long. His visitor must have been knocking for a while, because it was heavy and constant by the time he finally awoke.

"Coming," Nick grumbled, dragging himself up off of the couch. Who in the hell is this?

He pulled open the door and gaped at the person on his front step. His surprise mingled instantly with anger. "Hey."

To be continued...