Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to CSI or it's affiliates. I am merely a fan whose would like to take already established characters into a story of my own rendering.
Revelations: Nick
Walking out of the prison, Nick felt cold. Even the scorching Nevada heat couldn't help cover the goosebumps. He had met the accomplice. He couldn't prove it, but the accomplice of his kidnapper and attempted murderer would be getting out of jail in just a few years.
He grew colder.
Thinking that seeing the daughter of the man who tried to kill him would help ease his pain and fears, but they only increased. She didn't help them. She didn't care if he lived or died. She blamed him for her being in jail. Everyone. All the CSIs were to blame for her loss of freedom and her father had tried to avenge her.
She thought he failed. He hadn't.
Nick felt dead inside. Cold as death. His life was forever changed because of a madman and his daughter. Two madmen to be exact. He'd forgotten about Nigel, his stalker. He too had tried to kill him. Why was he the one whop attracted all the psychos?
Hopping into his Tahoe, he slammed his head against the wheel, causing the horn to blow. He jumped back and sat upright in his seat and was still for several moments, grateful that no one seemed to notice his actions. Finally satisfied with his emotions calming themselves once more, he started the engine and steered the SUV out of the prison parking lot and onto the main highway, heading back to Sin City.
He still felt cold, just not on the outside. He felt cold inside, as if his heart was freezing over. When he's been promoted to a CSI III, he was just a happy-go-lucky cowboy, looking for a good woman to have a good time with. Now he could hardly find a true emotion. While in the coffin, he lost all emotion as he picked up the gun and positioned it under his chin. He wanted to pull the trigger. He needed to pull the trigger. One squeeze would have ended his pain. But then the light came on. He shifted what was left of his humanity towards the light and as it shattered, so did his soul.
He was so lost.
What happened to the happy Nick. The one who could innocently flirt with Sara and Catherine, talk video games with Greg, go for a drink with Warrick and Brass, and do everything in his power to please Grissom. Was he really happy then? It seemed he was just blending in. He allowed his feeling to get in the way of his job, always sympathetic to the families, looking for justice. He didn't care about the promotion, but he'd gotten it anyway, despite of himself. Sara had deserved it.
Why did Grissom promote him? Was it because of the fact that he didn't want to play favorites with Sara? He knew there was something that had happened in the past with them, and somehow has never played itself out completely. But he hoped that hadn't been the reason for his promotion. He should have earned the promotion, not given it because some middle-aged guy with a suffering libido for his employee felt that he'd would be playing favorites to give it to her. Damn Sara! Damn Grissom.
Damn Nick.
How could he think of them like that, They've done nothing wrong. He missed them. Since working with Catherine and Warrick on the swing shift, he never saw them. He wasn't there when they needed his help. He wasn't there for Sara when she was attacked at the mental hospital. They'd always been there for each other. Like a brother and sister.
Some brother he was. Some friend...
Warrick was there for him. But Nick hadn' t been there for Warrick. When his gambling problem escalated out of control, he hadn't been there for him. He'd hardly even noticed, except that he wasn't at the casinos as much.
Some friend he was.
He didn't even know how to help Catherine. It's not that he didn't want to but he wasn't a dad so he couldn't really understand how she dealt with Lindsey, especially with Eddie gone. He could help her when she went looking for solicitude in the wrong places. She almost assaulted outside of a nightclub and he did nothing. She was his boss and he didn't help her.
Some employee he was.
Poor Greg was becoming like him. A vibrant, happy, carefree young man was becoming a dark, quiet, focused on his job kind of man. He could help Greg. He was just like him in that respect. But how can you help someone if you can't even help yourself. Greg looked up to him like a mentor.
Some mentor.
Mentor. Grissom. He was a man who had earned Nick's respect day one. He wanted to be just like him. Objective and professional. Now he was like an extreme Grissom. No emotion. At least Grissom cared and helped his team. Nick didn't do anything. Grissom had almost died to save Nick's life. What had he done to earn that kind of sacrifice? What did Grissom think of his protege now?
Some protege.
It was too much for Nick to handle. He pulled on the side of the road and slammed on the breaks. He got out of the vehicle and vomited on the side of the road. Not trusting himself yet, he sat on the ground, back leaning against the tire of the SUV, causing a fight between his icy skin and hot metal. Even his stomach was disgusted with him. His own body hated him. He hated himself. The people he regarded most in the world had saved his life and what had he done for them? Nothing. He didn't deserved to be saved. They should have let him die there in that plexiglass coffin. Feeling his stomach betray him again, Nick emptied himself of whatever else was left in him, and sat back. He could no longer contain the tears and didn't bother to stop them as the flowed down his face, hitting the dirt near his feet.
It wasn't too late to get back to who he was. He could be the old Nick again. No, a better, wiser Nick. A Nick who could be counted on to be a friend. Always there to help. He would let the ghosts of his past consume him any longer.
Standing up, he dried his tears, pulled out his cell phone and decided to make good on his word. He picked a number from his phone book as he got back in the driver's seat. "Sara? Hey, it's Nick. I'm good. I'm coming back to work tomorrow. Listen, I've been meaning to ask how you're doing..."
End
