Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up! It's been quite the juggling act lately, what with school work and applying for jobs for September. Word of advice to future teachers: start applications early because they take a LONG time! The opinions of the characters are not necessarily indicative of my own, so please don't feel as if I am passing judgment. I still don't own any of the characters, but you already knew that, didn't you?

The scars will take me far, they always do – Henry Rollins

One Day Earlier

"How can I make things right when I know that he's wrong?"

"Honey, sometimes people just need a day or two to cool off. I'm sure Greg will come around. Just give him some time."

Nick rubbed his head in a vain attempt to make the throbbing headache go away. When his mom had called that morning, he knew there was no point in pretending that everything was okay. She would see through him in a heartbeat. He wouldn't have answered the phone, except he had avoided her all week and he knew that he had to talk to her. He had given her a slightly less than accurate account of the argument that he and Greg had gotten into the previous day. He had made up some lame story about a misunderstanding at a crime scene that had led to a heated discussion. He wouldn't have even mentioned the fight, except she had been able to tell that something was wrong after he said hello. Nick couldn't help but smile at her motherly advice. No matter what, she was always his voice of reason. She always managed to put things in perspective for him, no matter how complicated things were.

"Listen Nicky. I know that things have been really hard on you lately. Maybe you just need a break?"

"Mom…"

"I mean it honey. You know you can always come home for a while. Your dad and I would love to get to see you. I know that you have a job there, but I am sure that you could make arrangements to take a leave of absence for a while. Why don't you come home?" There was a pleading tone in her voice.

Nick unexpectedly felt hot tears burn the corner of his eyes. Listening to his mom talk to him like that made him miss his parents terribly at that moment. He had been out of their house for years and while he missed them frequently, it was never like this. Ever since last spring he found himself wishing that he could be with his family more. He suddenly wanted very much to leave Vegas behind and run home to his parents. He knew though that going home wouldn't change anything. He would still be the same battered, broken person that he was here. It just would have been nice to deal with those issues in the comfort and security of his parent's home.

"Mom come on. You know I can't just get up and leave. I have a job here. They gave me more than enough time off after…you know. They won't be able to give me any more, not right now. I want to come home, I really do. I just have to figure some things out and do some things here right now."

His mom sighed. He could hear the smile in her voice. "I know. I am just feeling a little jealous that your friends our there get to see you everyday. But you'll come home soon, I know it. Listen baby, I have to get ready for work, but you call me this weekend, okay? I want to hear how you and Greg worked everything out. And it will work out, I promise. Just give it some time. I love you Nicky"

He blushed, even though there was no one around to hear him. "I love you too, Mom"

"And think about what I said. You can always come home again, no questions asked. I'll talk to you soon honey. Bye for now"

Nick said his good-bye and hung up the phone. His mother's words swirled around in his head. She made it seem so easy. She made it sound like he could drop everything and just go home again. He hated lying to his mother, but he could never tell her what was going on out here. The stress of the last few days was beginning to pile up on him and he couldn't handle upsetting his mother on top of everything else. He had caused his parents enough grief and stress to last a lifetime. He was determined not to worry them. If he told them what was transpiring here, they would be on the first plane out of Texas. What was even worse was the tiny, nagging worry that they might agree with everyone else. What if they thought that he was going over the edge? He might be able to survive his friends thinking like that, but if his parent's lost faith in him, he would never make it. No, it was better to let them think everything was alright. He'd already made up his mind about what the next step was going to be. And sadly, it didn't involve his parents. He hoped that they would understand.

But deep down, he knew it would break their hearts.

Forty-five minutes later he was sitting in Dr. Stanley's office again. He wasn't sure how much more of her he could take. She wasn't helping him; she was infuriating him. He felt the muscles in his jaw clench when she smiled at him and opened her folder. He wondered what she wrote in there when he left. Probably a bunch of nasty stuff about how he was belligerent and crazy and dangerous. She didn't really care what happened to him. She would probably love it if I killed myself he thought bitterly. It would prove her theory that I am nothing more than a suicidal loser. He tried to force a smile on to his face as she greeted him.

"Good morning Nick. I trust the last couple of days have gone well?"

You know full well that they haven't, you smug cow. "They've been okay"

"Tell me about them"

Well let's see. I nearly drowned myself after our last session, so that should indicate the direction our therapy is taking. I came close to trying to knock Greg's teeth out during one of the ugliest arguments I've ever had, and oh, I just lied to my mother. "Let's see. After our last session I just drove around and went down to Lake Mead to clear my mind. It was actually a pretty, um, cleansing experience. Yesterday Greg and I got into a bit of a disagreement at work, but I didn't try to bash his head in this time, so that's a step in the right direction I guess, huh? And I talked to my mom this morning and she tried to convince me to come home, which is nothing new, and of course I couldn't do even if I wanted to"

"Do you want to leave Las Vegas Nick?"

If it meant I wouldn't have to see you again, sure, book me the next flight out. "Not really. I mean, after the last few days I've thought about leaving it all behind, but I don't really want to leave Vegas."

"I see. What did you and Greg fight about yesterday?"

Does it really matter? "He thinks I've been avoiding him since I freaked on him"

"Have you?"

Okay, clearly you can tell I have. You totally know the answer, so why ask the question? "I wasn't really aware of it until he said something, but yeah, I was avoiding him. I just feel so damn guilty about what happened that it seemed easier if I didn't have to look at him. But we had our words and everything is cool now."

"Is it?"

Well, if by "cool" I mean that we aren't talking and he is running to Grissom behind my back and everything is a total disaster, then yeah, we're cool. "I think so. It got kinda heated but we dealt with it and I think it's all good"

She nodded absently as she continued to write in the file. She must have noticed him trying to read what she wrote, because she angled the file away from his line of sight. She smiled that plastic smile. "Nick do you think we're making any progress here?"

Whoa, abrupt change of direction doc. Where are you going with this? "Why do you ask?"

"Why do you think I'm asking?"

Because you're a real pain in the ass? "Why do you have to make everything so complicated?"

"Why are you answering my question with a question?"

Oh, for the love of God… "Listen, this is ridiculous. We are talking in circles here. I will concede on this one. Are we making progress? Frankly, no. I think these sessions are a waste of my time and yours."

"You don't find any validity in our sessions?"

Considering most of your advice sounds like it came from a cheap self-help book, no, not really. "I think that there are more productive things we could both be doing. I appreciate everything you're trying to do, but there is no problem here. I know I am supposed to keep seeing you, but could we just ease up on these sessions? Every other day is starting to get ridiculous. There is nothing wrong with me. I'm just dealing with some stuff, which, if I'm being perfectly honest, you don't understand the first thing about. I've got it figured out and I know what I need to do"

"Nick, I appreciate your candor. I hope you will appreciate mine. You are not in any frame of mind to be making judgments about the state of your mind right now. I agree, I don't truly understand what you went through last May, and what you continue to go through. I do however recognize that you are a young man on the verge of a breakdown. There is evidence that you are completely unwilling to acknowledge that indicates the severity of your mindset. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you would know that this last week is one big cry for help. You are spinning out of control, and we need to continue these sessions so that I can make sure that does not happen. I am afraid that if you leave my office today without dealing with any of this, that the next phone call I get from your supervisor will be the one telling me that you killed yourself. You need help Nick. You are lying to your friends, your parents and yourself if you think that you don't. You need to grow up, lose the macho act and admit that there is a problem here. I can help you, if you'll let me. What do you say?"

What I should have said sooner… "Dr. Stanley, I do appreciate your candor. I hope you appreciate mine once again when I say, you are without a doubt, the biggest bitch I have ever met in my life"

And he stormed out, not slowing as she called out his name.

And he knew that the smug, self-righteous phony smile would be wiped off her face the next time Grissom called her.

It would serve her right.

Nick decided to blow off work for the rest of the day. The paperwork wasn't going anywhere, and he doubted anyone would miss him anyways. He needed the rest of his day to kick the plan into high gear. He was more certain then ever that this was the only way. After spending the morning listening to the psychological tripe that Dr. Stanley was prone to spewing at him, he knew that this was the only way. They all believed it anyways, so it wouldn't be that big of a shock to them he reasoned. He made his last minute arrangements, and marveled at how calm he felt. It was bizarre to feel so in control of everything, when he knew that everything was so far out of control that he could never get it back on track. He had a macabre sense of satisfaction as he mentally prepared himself for what he had to do. He had never thought that he would be so at peace with his decision. After agonizing over it for so many months, he had made up his mind. The only thing he would have changed about this was the nagging voice in the back of his mind that taunted him if he stopped busying himself for too long.

Coward.

He wondered if he was taking the coward's way out. Had he really done all that he could do in order to make everything right again? He was sure he had. He had tried to be normal again, but normalcy evaded him. He was so tired of pretending. He hoped that no one would think he was a coward. He hoped that they would think of how hard he had struggled for so many months. He hoped they would realize that he was just worn out from trying to deal with all of this.

Selfish.

Maybe he was selfish, preparing to leave them behind with all of his unfinished business. God knew that they could stand to walk in his shoes for a day or two, maybe this would force them to do it. He had thought about how this would affect them, he really had. He had always been the guy whom everyone could rely on, the guy who put everyone ahead of himself. Now, when it really counted, he was doing what was right for him.

He got home and made dinner. He barely tasted the food, after he realized that this would be his last meal here. If he had thought of that sooner, he might have made something nicer than frozen pizza. Well, better live it up while I still can he thought wryly as he cracked open a bottle of rum and began mixing with cola. It wasn't long before half the bottle was gone and he was sprawled on his living room floor, thinking about what could have been. He was grateful for the numbing comfort of the alcohol. It made all of his memories tonight much happier, and he was glad that the thoughts he had of his friends were all good ones. He dug out his lone photo album (he had left the others at home during Christmas over a two years ago). This album was filled with pictures of his family and friends. He flipped to the pictures of the people who had been his second family for so many years. He rifled through pictures, and ran his hands over the smiling faces. That was how he wanted to remember them. He brought the photo album up to his bedroom, and soon drifted into a heavy slumber with the album at his side. His dreams that night were fragments of a memory, from a time when everything had seemed to be too perfect for words. In his dream, the words he shared with his friends were far from the harsh ones that had been exchanged of late. In his dream state, he wasn't even aware of what he was saying. Somewhere, in the unconscious recesses of his mind, he was saying goodbye.

"I wish I could stay."