An Unfair Act of Vengeance

Notes: This is another chapter I was already finished with… Thanks for the reviews, and I read all of them, even if I don't quite get as much time to respond to them as I'd like! Hope you enjoy it, and feel free to review this chapter, or any of the past ones!

Summary: Nick goes through his next evaluation with another psychiatrist. He allows Grissom to visit him, but his supervisor discovers that the situation may be worse than he expected. As the team continues their investigation they discover there were even more victims.

Nick sat nervously in his hospital bed waiting for the inevitable. He had refused to let anyone sit in with him; there was no way he was going to let the entire team know even more about his past... not to mention the fact that he still couldn't bear the looks of disappointment. The door swung open, and he quickly tried to compose himself.

Dr. Claire Williams immediately restrained herself from gaping at the man's injuries. She was here because Gil had called in a favor, and she was beginning to think that this was going to be much harder than she had expected.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Claire Williams. Your supervisor, Mr. Grissom, is an old friend of mine. Actually he was… something of a patient of mine. Now I have your file here, but I'd rather get the information from you. Would you care to tell me your name?"

"N-Nick Stokes..."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Mr. Stokes, or should I call you Nick?"

"Nick is f-fine..."

"Ok, Nick. Now I have some questions for you, but I don't want you to feel compelled to answer anything right now that makes you feel uncomfortable. So, first, can you explain to me why you aren't accepting any visitors?"

"I-it's too... hard... I'm not sure if I could st-stand seeing what they've gone through..."

"That's rather noble of you, but I'm not sure that that's the case here."

"W-why not?"

"Well, because I think we both know that your family and friends would all be relieved to see how well you're doing."

"Who says I'm doing well?"

"Your doctor for one. As well as myself. You seem to be in fine shape both physically and mentally. However, I'm not sure that everything is quite right, but with a few more sessions I think we'll be able to make even more progress. As for my next question... How do you think your family and friends would react towards you now?"

"L-listen... I know this must sound w-weird to you, but I j-just know h-how disappointed they'll all be..."

"You mean they'd be disappointed that you survived?" she asked, unable to hide her confusion.

"No... No, not like that... more... m-m-more like d-disappointed in how I reacted... in everything I-I-I've d-done recently..."

"Hey, Sara..."

"Yeah Warrick?"

"I'm... uh... I'm finding a whole lot of blood on all of these... items."

"What? You mean..."

"I mean that there is a whole lot of blood on these things that's been on them longer than Nick's."

"Great, so that means that there are even more victims..."

"Yeah, and, judging by the amount of blood on all of these I'm going to venture a guess that they didn't make it..."

"Ok, well, we know he worked with Walter Gordon, so there is a good chance that there are more people buried out at that mine. I'll go find Brass and get the equipment and we'll take a look to see if we can't find anyone else..."

The three men casually entered the quiet, now empty, house by using a small key that their boss had entrusted them with. The first man began to rummage through his bag, and pulled out a miniscule camera. Looking around the dim hallway he place the first camera underneath the ceiling light fixture. Shortly afterwards he secured another one just inside a picture frame. He looked down at the innocent picture of their boss's prey. He had to admit that the Texan had a nice smile. He flashed his own smile at the thought... He won't have anything to smile about when this is over...

Nick sighed. The psychiatrist sitting across from him was trying to make him feel comfortable, at ease, but it wasn't working. He wasn't stupid; he knew she had looked through his file. He knew that the woman sitting across from him knew essentially every single bad thing that had ever happened to him...

"It's only natural for the victim of a terrible crime to feel guilty, Nick. You need to remember that it simply isn't your fault; you aren't to blame for anything. Now, I know that you may not accept it now, or for a long time. But, I'm sure that if you keep up on all your therapy we can get you back into your normal life..."

"I-I'm sorry, but I'm... I d-don't believe you..."

"You don't have to believe me; just answer any questions you feel comfortable with, and you can feel free to tell me what you're feeling..."

"Ok, well, right now I'd like to know why you feel like you have to baby me."

"That's fair enough. I guess I felt that for someone to have gone through everything that you've gone through it would be nice if you could see that there are still kind people out there."

"You know what I think? I think that the only way you view me is as some helpless, useless animal that you only wanted to help because you felt sorry for it. Isn't that why you're here? Because you feel sorry for me, because you think I'm completely incapable of ever recovering?"

"Isn't that a little unfair? Quite honestly, I'm here because your supervisor is an old friend, and I can tell how much this matters to him. And, if you want some brutal honesty, here it is; you may never recover. You will probably never get your old life back; in fact I can almost guarantee that you won't. I'm here to offer you a helping hand, but I can't force you to accept it."

"I... I'm sorry... it's... it's just too hard... I d-don't know what to do..."

"That's ok Nick. It's going to be hard, but that's why we have family and friends to help us. I think this'll be enough for our first session, and all I want you to at least consider for now is at least seeing your family or even your friends. Trust me, they want to help you."

He watched as she closed her folder and quietly left the room. Trust... how in the world am I supposed to trust anyone? Why should I trust her? Every time I trust someone it just ends up causing me pain... He winced as he shifted his arms. There was no way he ever wanted to know how many stitches had been used to close the cuts running up and down his arms...

Warrick walked slowly into the lab. He wanted to wait in the hospital. He needed his friend to let him in... He needed to help him...

"Hey Warrick, you want to help me with this?"

"Oh, hey Greg... sure, what are you doing?"

"I just got all our trace and blood samples back from those tools. I haven't even looked at the results yet..."

They quickly found their way to the layout room, and Greg began to pull out papers from various files.

"Ok, starting with everything recovered from Nick... A single black fiber in his fingernail matches what Alberts was wearing. And all the fresh blood on the scene belonged to Nick..."

"Ok, well, according to this we've got blood from at least eight other people on various tools..."

"Yeah, the blood was too old to actually be able to help us much, but from what we did get Mia determined that there may have been at least eight other victims... and the only blood other than Nick's that she could match belonged to our first victim."

"I say we'd better make some calls and see if they've checked out this guy's institute. I'll be right back okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll be here when you get back..."

His eyes once more focused on the reports in front of him. There was no way any sane jury member wouldn't put this creep away for life, or who wouldn't give him the death penalty...

Grissom nearly ran down the hall. Mark had just called, and Nick had said he'd see him. He wasn't willing to waste any time, and had sped the entire way from the lab... Hs shoes clicked on the tiled floor, and his eyes focused in on the door in front of him. Without the slightest hesitation he walked in.

It wasn't a sight he had been expecting. Nick was staring silently out his window from a wheelchair, and he could tell the man was struggling not to tremble...

"Hey Nick-"

"Look, I only asked for you to come because you've got to get my account for the reports. So, I think the doctor would like us to do this quickly so I can get some rest."

He forced himself to stop gaping at the man in the wheelchair. In all the years he worked with this man he had never seen him like this...

"Uh... Ok, I guess we can do that now... are you sure you want to?"

"Yes. I may as well do it now; do it so you can get back to work..."

"Ok, Nick, but-"

"Just save it Grissom. Now, what do you need to know about what happened?"

His jaw dropped. Once more he found himself speechless... he had been thrilled when Mark told him that Nick was going to allow him in to see him. He had never even thought that Nick would only want to tell him what happened, and nothing else. He had expected to sit face to face with his friend, not to stand staring at his back as he sat awkwardly gazing at the outside world...

"Uh..." he quickly cleared his throat for more time to think, "I... I guess you can start from what happened after I left the living room at my house..."

"Fine. He injected me with something, and stuffed me in his trunk. Took me to his hideout, and he beat the crap out me. Then he cut up my palms, hoisted me up and down in a noose, and chained me to a table. Then beat me some more. After that he broke my wrist with some type of clamp, and from there he cut my arms up, and smashed my leg. Then he poisoned me a third time and buried me alive, and you guys found me. Is that good enough for you?"

"Yeah, but look, Nick..."

"Good, now I think I should get some rest if you don't mind."

Grissom was stunned. This was all wrong... Nick's voice was completely flat, and he couldn't even get the slightest sense of what the man sitting away from him was feeling. Not to mention that Nick hardly let him speak at all, but there was nothing more he could do. If Nick wanted him gone, he'd go...

Greg jumped as another folder slammed down onto the table next to him.

"Jeez, man, are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?"

"That's Nick's account of the events. He let me 'see' him for what couldn't have been five minutes before he kicked me out."

"Oh... man, I..."

"It's ok Greg, just keep working, that may be the only way we can help him anymore..."

Greg watched in silence as his supervisor left the room and took off down the hall. His eyes trailed back down to the new folder, and he decided he might as well go over that next.

It was dark by the time the three men left the house. Everything was in place, and soon the entire plan would be fulfilled...

Nick stood silently at the nurses' station waiting for the doctor to return with the final papers. He had been in this hospital for two weeks, and he was going to enjoy leaving it behind. He had had two more sessions with that Dr. Williams, but neither one had gone too well. At the moment the only thing he wanted was to go home...

"Here you go, Mr. Stokes... sign here, and you're free to go. Are you sure you don't want a friend to take you?"

"No. I called a cab, and it's waiting for me..."

"Ok, well, here are your medications... just follow the directions, and make sure you follow them exactly as they say. No 'I'm feeling better' crap ok?"

"Sure. I'll be fine." He awkwardly grabbed the pen in his now lightly bandaged hand. It hurt to close his fingers around it, and he could barely recognize the scribbled letters. His arms once more hung loosely over his crutches, and he slowly made is way towards the exit.

"Grissom here."

"Hey, uh... Gil, this is Mark, and there's something I thought you ought to know. I'm kind of breaking policy here, because I was specifically told not to pass on his information, but like I said..."

"Mark, what's wrong?" he asked quickly, he didn't care enough to hide the concern that crept into his voice as he immediately became the center of attention of his team.

"Well, I'm not sure if wrong would completely describe it..."

"Just spill it." He almost winced at the rude reply to his friend. He had taken a big chance at breaking doctor patient privilege.

"Yeah... sorry... uh... Mr. Stokes checked out today. Not against my will; physically he is ready, but uh... he's leaving in a cab now, and he isn't meeting anybody... so I doubt anyone's waiting for him at his place..."

Grissom sighed heavily. He still couldn't comprehend why Nick didn't want to see anyone; sure he was self-conscious about his injuries. No, that couldn't be it... but what else is there?

"Uh... Gil... before you get too lost in thought to speak would you mind telling us what happened?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry Catherine... that was Dr. Gibbons... Nick was just released from the hospital, and he left alone in a cab..."

"Why wouldn't he call one of us?" Greg quickly piped up.

"I don't know, but I think it's about time we find out. You guys just get back to work; Catherine and Warrick, keep sealing any holes in Nick's case, Greg, you're taking on the report that just came in from the Phoenix PD on their investigation into Alberts' institute, and Sara; you get a DB... found in an alley after being stabbed multiple times... If anyone asks I'm out on an interview about Dr. Alberts. Don't try to call me though; I don't need any interruptions if Nick even lets me see him. But, first, I've got to look into a new angle on my current case..."

"Ok." They all replied slowly; they had been even more efficient than normal. Not a single one of them had wanted to take on any new cases, but almost every day one or more of them could be seen still mulling over files or pictures. The fact was that some DA and a bunch of lawyers were now handling it. All they could do was look into any questions that were thrown their way...

The cab driver couldn't help but look curiously at the unusual man sitting behind him. He was wearing a baggy T-shirt, that partially covered the bandages on his arms and hands, and then there were the simple mesh gym shorts that fit snugly around the thick cast over his leg. His eyes traveled up to the man's face, but stopped at his neck... the dark bruises there were nearly impossible to ignore... Once more he focused on the road, but when he reached another red stoplight he couldn't help but look back at the guy as he tried not to shake. Then he risked a glance in the mirror into the other's eyes. He quickly looked away; he hoped it would be hard to ignore the look of agony, guilt, and shame, and that it wouldn't be burned into his mind for long...

"Hey Nick... come on, please just open the door. We all know you were released... please, just talk to me, even if it's only for a few minutes..."

He waited in front of the solid door that was currently barring him from someone who desperately needed help... He was answered only with silence. A quick glance over to the driveway confirmed that he hadn't driven anywhere as his Denali was still parked there, and he had called the cab service on his way here, and they had confirmed that Nick reached his house just fine. Several more minutes passed. He had already been home for probably five hours... he should've gotten here sooner, but his new angle had blown the case wide open, and Brass had already made the arrest... That's it. I'm sorry Nick, but you can't shut us out forever. His hands fished into his pockets, and he pulled out his set of keys. Damn, I can't believe this... why don't I have my other keys? Without wasting another minute he fished out his cell phone, and punched a few buttons.

"Warrick."

"Hey, Warrick, it's me, I need you to get down here to Nick's place. I don't have his spare key on me, and he won't open the door..."

"Yeah, no problem... I'll just tell Catherine to cover for me for a few minutes..."

It seemed like an eternity standing there in front of the door. His foot tapped anxiously on the concrete... he should be here by now... As if in response to his distress he sighed as Warrick turned the corner in one of the Lab's SUVs. They didn't exchange hellos and Warrick headed straight for the door with the key in hand.

The house seemed strange to them. For some reason the fact that nothing seemed out of place was odd; they knew Nick was usually clean but that wasn't quite it...

"Nick?" Grissom called out loudly enough that anyone in the house would've been able to hear, and the two men quickly exchanged nervous glances when they didn't get a response.

"Hey, Griss, what's that?"

Grissom looked slowly over towards the white envelope that Warrick had pointed to that sat next to Nick's laptop.

"I'm not sure... it isn't addressed to anyone..." He slowly picked the envelope up and frowned as a folded piece of paper fell out.

"Uh... Griss, I'm not sure we should really look around..."

"Look, Warrick, we're not really..." he stopped. He could now see the subject along the top of the letter... this wasn't good.

"What is it?"

"I-it's a letter... of resignation..."

"What? No way, there's no way Nick would quit... he's not... he wouldn't..."

"Listen to me, Warrick; Nick is obviously going through more than we can comprehend, and I know it sounds strange but maybe he doesn't want to see anyone because he feels ashamed..."

"There's no reason for him to be ashamed though..."

"I know that, Warrick, but he might not. None of us can understand what he's gone through, or is going through..."

To Be Continued...

Next Chapter: Warrick and Grissom find Nick in his room, and Grissom tries to talk with him. The team doesn't like where the investigation turns as they find more evidence, and discover numerous disturbing facts about Dr. Alberts' institution...