A/N: Okay, so I'm a little nervous about posting this one--it's different in a lot of ways from my usual style, and it's hard sometimes to try new things (case in point: we all remember how painful George Eads' mustache was at the begining of the season, now, don't we?). I normally make my home in the CSI:NY section, normally write in the third person, and normally borrow only characters and rarely storylines. But here I have moved to Las Vegas, written in the first person, and borrowed two hours worth of CBS's material ;-P I'm pretty sure that this story is easier to handle than George's mustache, but I'll let you guys be the judge. You'll be kind...right? ;-)
Disclaimer: Most of this belongs to CBS, sadly, but LeeAnn (and any mistakes you may find) belong to me.
I paced the halls of the lab feeling helpless in every way, but unable to leave. I was not a blood relative, nor even related by marriage, and so had no official standing. Nick's parents' had flown in from Texas, and they were his next of kin, so I had no lawful reason to even be there. I was just the girlfriend, but some of the CSIs knew me, had been out with Nick and I, and allowed me to set up shop here where I could know exactly what was happening as it happened. They knew I would go crazy at home, staring aimlessly at the TV or pretending to work, all the while wondering if the life of the man I loved would continue, or if it had been snuffed out like a candle. So I paced, watching my visitor's badge bounce against my shirt, waiting.
When my feet began to grow tired, I decided to sit for a bit with Nick's parents. I had met them twice before, once when they came to Nevada for a visit and once when Nick had taken me to Texas, but we hadn't gotten particularly close yet. Now it was inevitable.
I took a seat at the table they were sitting at and tried to look encouragingly at them. Mrs. Stokes attempted a smile and took my hand across the table.
"Nick's so lucky to have you," she told me, trying to keep the tears from spilling over her cheeks.
"He's talked about nothing else since the two of you met," Judge Stokes chimed in.
I smiled as happily as I could. "I'm the lucky one," I told them softly. "I don't know what I'd ever do without…" Probably not a good idea, I decided, and tried another topic of conversation. "Did Nick ever tell you about how we met?"
His father fielded that one. "He said your car broke down on the side of the road and he stopped to see if you were okay."
I smiled, more genuinely this time. "I was working for the Air Force at the time, and they needed an engineer to lend a hand with some project they were running at Nellis Air Force Base, just north of the city here. So I fly in, pick up my government-issued car, and decide I'm gonna drive down the Strip since I had some free time that night. I got about halfway down when the battery died, and there were no jumper cables in the car." I could see the scene unfold in my mind's eye as though it were happening again, and my smile widened. "Nick was the only one who stopped and offered to help me."
"That's my boy," Mrs. Stokes smiled. "Always the good Samaritan."
"And a good tour guide, too," I remembered. "I took him to dinner later to thank him, and he offered to show me around town. We spent all the free time we had for two weeks going over Nevada inch by inch, even finding some places Nick had never been to. A year later we still love checking out new places together…"
My voice caught in my throat and I could see the tears brimming in Mrs. Stokes' eyes again. I rose from the table, squeezing her hand and nodding to the Judge. "I'm, uh, gonna get a cup of coffee…" I managed.
I hurried out the door and into the hall with no clear idea of where to go. I didn't want coffee, and was, of course, restricted from the working parts of the lab, so I wandered aimlessly around until I stumbled upon a lone figure standing in front of a computer. The monitor darkened before I caught the image, but the figure reached for the mouse and clicked, bringing the picture back on screen.
It took me a minute to comprehend what I was seeing, but when I did realization crushed me like a ton of bricks. He was lying in a small box, coffin-like and buried heaven only knew where. Light flooded over him, and I could see beads of sweat clinging to his face as he flinched painfully and covered his eyes with his arm.
"Nicky," I gasped, my eyes wide with shock.
The figure turned away from the computer with a jolt. "LeeAnn," Warrick replied, startled by my presence. Taking in the sudden paleness of my skin and the tears that had begun to fill my eyes, he sprang toward me. "LeeAnn, you shouldn't…"
"Warrick…that's…that's…"
He grabbed my shoulders and tried to turn me away from the screen, but I resisted, instead stepping toward the computer. I reached out my hand and brushed my fingers across the monitor, as if touching it would somehow bring me closer to Nick. Warrick moved behind me, his eyes flickering back and forth between me and the computer screen, wanting to protect me from the horror of the situation but unable to tear his gaze away from his best friend.
As we stood together and watched, Nick began to move, pulling a pack of his favorite bubble gum from his pocket and popping a piece into his mouth. He chewed for a moment before removing it and stuffing it in his ear.
"What's he doing?" I mumbled out loud.
Warrick just shook his head faintly, his brow furrowed intensely as he tried to answer the same question. On the screen, Nick palmed his gun and pulled it up to his chest, the muzzle pointed squarely at the underside of his chin.
My blood ran cold. "No…"
Warrick's grip on my shoulders tightened and the fear was written plainly on his face. Nick fumbled with the gun, fingering the trigger as though he was building up the nerve to pull it.
"Don't do it, Nicky!" Warrick pleaded with him. "Don't do it!"
Nick suddenly drew the muzzle of the gun away from himself and pointed it toward his feet. Not a split second later the camera went dark.
"Son of a bitch!" Warrick yelled, almost pounding on my shoulders in anger and frustration.
But I felt nothing, concentrating intently on the computer screen as I tried to quell the panic that rose inside me. It seem like an eternity passed, but in reality only a few seconds went by before a faint green glow appeared on the monitor. The glow grew into a fluorescent light, and I could see Nicky's laughing form holding a glow stick.
I was suddenly aware that I had stopped breathing and sucked air sharply into my lungs, turning toward Warrick and burying my face in his chest. "We gotta find him, 'Rick…we gotta find him…"
He took in a breath and tried to steady himself, sliding an arm around me. "We will, LeeAnn. I swear to you we will."
His cell phone rang and he released me, quickly pulling the phone from his pocket and flipping it open. "Brown…"
He moved out of earshot as the monitor went dark, and I took that as a sign to drag myself away from computer. I slipped out of the room and found my way to the main entrance of the building, not wanting to leave my only link to Nick, but needing some kind of reprieve from the tension.
"LeeAnn!"
I turned to find Catherine striding toward me. "Catherine! What is it?"
"We got a lead!" she exclaimed. "Going to process the scene now…as soon as we know anything I'll call you…"
I hugged her quickly. "Bring him home," I whispered.
She nodded. "We'll get him."
She hurried past me along with the rest of the team, and I followed them out the door, watching them scramble into their SUVs and peel out of the parking lot. When they were gone, I began walking around the perimeter of the building, praying that they would find Nick before it was too late.
I don't know how long I stayed outside, walking, praying, willing my cell phone to ring and deliver good news, but eventually I decided to go back in. I was drawn back to the nearest computer where I could catch a glimpse of Nick, and upon entering the room I immediately knew something was different.
Sara sat beside Archie at a workstation, while Grissom had taken up residence at a separate terminal across the room, all three staring fixedly at their respective monitors.
"Something's going on here," Archie said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair.
I stepped closer and could faintly see Nick on screen, cracking open another glow stick and trying to sit up in the tiny box. He tapped on the top, his movements becoming more and more frantic as he began to call out to someone.
"What's happening?" Sara wondered out loud, her voice hopeful and fearful all at the same time.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched Nick banging on the top of the box with is fists, yelling now I knew, even though there was no sound accompanying the video feed. "Did they…?"
Sara glanced back at me, her eyes wide, unable to speak. But I could read her face: Find him? Dear God I hope so.
Our gazes shifted back to the computer monitor, where Nick suddenly stopped pounding and began looking around. He appeared to be listening for something, or to something, with an intense look of concentration that I had always teased him about. "You never look at me that way," I'd kid, and he would always reply, "Because loving you is easy…I don't have to think about it."
I closed my eyes as the memory flashed across my mind, remembering the way he would touch me as he spoke those words, the way he always pulled me to him and kissed me softly. I could almost feel his body against mine, but was brought sharply back to reality by Sara's voice.
"He's going into convulsions," she cried. "He's losin' it!"
Archie's face took on a pained expression, and I forced myself to focus on the computer screen. Nick was writhing around in the box as though possessed, his screams all the more heart wrenching without audio.
"What is it? What's happening!" I demanded.
Grissom remained calm at his workstation, studying the monitor intently as he tried to answer that very question. After a moment, he replied softly, "Ants."
The three of us on the other side of the room all turned toward him. "Ants?"
"Ants." He rose from his chair and headed quickly out of the room, grabbing something off the printer and acting on an idea that had suddenly clicked into his brain.
Sara and Archie jumped from their seats and went after him, with me close on their heels. Part of me knew there was nothing I could do officially, but the rest of me damn sure wanted to try.
The team assembled in a room I had never been to in a part of the lab I probably shouldn't have been in, but no one shooed me away. A map was spread out on the table as the CSIs filtered through their information again, trying to narrow down the search area. On a hunch, Sara sprinted from the room and returned with a case folder, the hope returning to her voice as she spoke.
"Nick is here," she said as she re-entered the little room, stabbing her finger on the map with emphasis.
Everyone immediately moved off to ready equipment and notify those that would be involved in the rescue, but I managed to grab Grissom by the arm before he left.
"Gil, you have to take me with you," I begged. "Please…I need to do something…I've been a passive bystander all this time…you have to let me help…"
Grissom shook his head. "No, LeeAnn. This is official business…"
"Please, Gil," I tried again, clutching at the sleeve of his shirt. "You're going to need all the eyes you can find to help look for Nick…"
He frowned and shook his head again, gently extricating his sleeve from my grasp. "I'm sorry, but no. I need you to stay here with Nick's parents. I want them to hear the good news from you when we find him."
He patted my shoulder lightly and started off down the hall. I stood still, rooted to the floor as I watched him go, unable to believe that he was just going to leave me here, beginning to understand Warrick's earlier frustrated pounding on my shoulders.
"I'm a scientist, too, damn it!" I yelled hoarsely at no one in particular, slamming my fists on the table. "An aerospace engineer! I helped send people into space for God's sake! I was part of the design teams for some of the most advanced high performance aircraft in the world! But I'm not qualified to walk around some nursery and look for loose dirt!"
The stress had finally gotten to me and I broke down, collapsing into a chair and dropping my head to the table as the tears poured from my eyes. I knew my words were selfish, knew that this operation wasn't about what I felt. And I knew later, after I had calmed down, that I hadn't meant anything that I had said. I only wanted Nick back, and his best friends were doing everything they could to find him. But at that moment I couldn't reason, couldn't think clearly. I could only sob like a child in anger and frustration and fear, beating my fists on the table again and again.
Thankfully, no one interrupted my little meltdown, and in time I settled down again. I rose from the table and found my way back to the nearest computer terminal, wiping the remaining tears from my eyes, now thoroughly ashamed of my behavior. Leaning down to click the mouse, I parked myself in the chair Archie had only recently vacated, fixated on the screen as I watched Nick trying desperately to fend off the red ants that were eating him alive. Fresh tears sprung to my eyes and I reached out, brushing a finger gently over the monitor, crying much more softly this time, whispering a quiet prayer over and over again.
"Please God let them find him in time…please God let them find him in time…please God…"
I watched the webcast as Nick struggled against the ants, read the pain on his face as they bit him over and over and over. I nearly lost my mind again when he drew his gun, almost convincing himself to end his life. I cried ecstatic tears of joy when light flashed onscreen as the CSI team uncovered the box he was buried in. I screamed angry words at anyone who would listen—including God—when I heard Hodges in the next room make a phone call to Catherine to explain that those funny dimples on the bottom of the prototype they had found had been rigged with explosives. I remained glued to the screen as Nick lay in the box, lid off and open to the fresh Nevada air, agonizingly close to safety yet still in harm's way.
I clasped my hands together and began praying again when I saw Grissom climb into the box with Nick and attach a rope to his belt. Confusion washed over me, but I knew Gil cared about Nick every bit as much as I did, and I knew he had a plan. He moved out of view of the camera, presumably out of the box, but nothing happened. A few seconds later the screen went abruptly black as the feed from the webcam was lost. I held my breath and bowed my head, waiting.
Then, for once in my life, my prayers were answered.
My cell phone rang and a very jubilant Grissom was on the other end of the line.
"We got him, LeeAnn," he told me. "He's pretty shaken up and the paramedics are taking him to the hospital, but he's alive."
The phone fell from my hand and I rushed down the hall to find Nick's parents, the helpless feeling that had become so much a part of me suddenly disappearing with the realization that I now—finally—had a job to do. I found them standing together in the lobby of the building in silent prayer, in much the same position I had been in only moments ago.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stokes!" I called, forgetting in my excitement the honorific Nick's father had earned as a judge.
He didn't care. Judge Stokes knew what I was going to say as soon as his eyes met mine. He pulled his wife close, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her hair as he spoke the words aloud with love and relief.
"He's comin' home."