Chapter Two: Unwanted Visitors

It had been almost too easy, making himself scarce in the lab. With everyone working their cases and processing their evidence no one noticed Nick slip out, relocating himself and his bad mood down the hall to the locker room where he could sit alone a few moments and simmer down. He was still on the clock, technically, and any other night would offer to help with one of the others' cases but wasn't in a mood to be hanging around any of them at the moment.

Nick knew it wasn't fair to compare the emotional capacity of Gil Grissom to that of the rest of his team, but something just kept nagging at him. Grissom obviously didn't think Nick was able to handle himself out in the field alone despite his recent, albeit reluctant, offer of a solo case. But what about the rest of them? He knew they were all keeping what they considered a discreet eye on him, but maybe it was more than worry. Maybe they were simply watching for him to screw up so they could rush in and fix it before Ecklie found out. Nick shuddered at the thought.

He'd been under the impression they were making progress but when he really thought about it, they were progressing so contradictorily that it made his head hurt. Sometimes his friends seemed to ignore the fact he might still be feeling aftereffects of what had happened, and other times it appeared they blamed his actions on that very incident.

Nick remembered the bunker, might always remember the damned bunker; that cold stone structure in the middle of the sweltering desert that had very nearly caused him to falter in the field. He'd had heavy legs that day as he'd forced himself to take each small step towards the building, each shaky step down the stairwell, arms pulled tightly to his body so no one passing could touch him. If someone had, he might have lost it completely. He'd been sweating before he even made it to the stairs, and it had nothing to do with the desert heat.

It was in that moment Nick had the stark realization there were going to be moments like this, unwilling and reoccurring aftershocks of his experience, no matter how hard he fought to suppress them or pretend otherwise. Nightmares were to be expected, but those were private. This was a reaction out there for the world to see. It hadn't been something he could shove to the back of his mind but a rebellion the part of his body, a physiological response, and he learned the hard way he had no control over that. He'd had to sit in the truck, air conditioning blasting for a full ten minutes before he'd been able to leave the scene.

He hoped, but wasn't sure, that no one else had noticed. He'd still been sweating slightly, panting when he joined up with Catherine in the chamber with the bodies. She'd most likely, or at least hopefully, attributed the beads of sweat to the heat, it not even crossing her mind how he was staring her down like she was his lifeline, refusing to look at any of the walls enclosing him in what felt to be a much smaller room than it was. They could have called him out there on purpose, to see how he would handle himself under the stress of working a case underground in a small, dark space with no fresh air. Maybe in retrospect, someone had realized what might have happened. Nick had been mere moments away from a full-blown panic attack. If he hadn't come across Cath when he did, things may have gone a different direction.

Or it might not have passed their minds at all, and maybe that was no one's fault but his own. He could have said something, told someone how uncomfortable he felt. He could have excused himself from the bunker and they would have understood. But then there would have been the looks. The inquiries. Are you okay?

That was Grissom and Catherine. Nick had to admit, he was surprised to think of them as a matching set. Cath was always the first one to jump on his case if he looked the least bit downcast, so her disinterest in that bunker was out of character. It might have just been the sheer volume of bodies on the case, and maybe it was just too much work to make time to coddle Nick.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was Sara. The accuser. Damn her for being so observant.

The McBride case had without a doubt been the most difficult for him since the abduction, without being conscious of a concrete reason why. He'd been overcome with the feeling he had to rescue that little girl; it wasn't often he got the chance to do so. He still wasn't entirely convinced this feeling or his actions during the case had been strictly motivated by his kidnapping, but Sara of course had thought otherwise. She pushed him, she cornered him, she questioned his actions…and he managed, for now, to wave it all away with a smile.

Warrick was starting forward for Team Sara. It seemed every time Nick looked up Warrick was watching him with those piercing green eyes, grown darker and sadder over the past few months. He knew Warrick was still harboring some guilt and no matter how many times Nick told him he had no reason to be, Warrick still had that look. Are you okay?

Tina was helping, and Nick was grateful for her presence in his friend's life. She was a nice distraction from the real world, though that was a little harsh. She really was helping Warrick, however out of nowhere she'd seem to appear. He wasn't stopping by the house as often as he had been in the beginning, now that he had someone at his own home to keep him busy.

If half the team was living in a fantasy world where Nick wasn't suffering any ill aftereffects of what had happened and the other half were figuring that every single thing he did resulted from what he'd been through, where did that leave him?

Nick's shoulders sagged. It was possible he'd screwed up the team dynamic for good. Grissom ignored him for the most part. Catherine just gave him that look like she was terrified he was going to break but she didn't want to risk say anything about it. Warrick was quiet, watchful, rash, and under the surface, a pot close to boiling over. He'd always been hotheaded, but still thought his actions through carefully. Nick was still trying to figure out his spontaneous marriage, unwilling to take the credit for it. Sara, like Warrick, seemed to be harboring some kind of anger, and too often it appeared she was on the verge of tears. Also like Warrick, she was keeping pretty quiet, afraid it would spill out and she would unleash her wrath upon an innocent passerby who was kind enough to say 'hello.' Out of all of them, Greg seemed to be himself. Maybe not quite as loud as he used to be, but hadn't retreated to the background quite like when he'd first entered the field. It seemed he was trying his damnedest to hold everyone together, and someone sure needed to. There was no arguing the fact they'd begun to drift apart.

That was how he saw them when they didn't know he was looking. Oh, when they were all together, it was great fun. Games in the break room, jokes in the lab…but it seemed like a cheap cover-up. He didn't even feel real around them anymore, more like he was watching from a distance. Every smile strained, every laugh forced, and no one was any the wiser. It was true what they said: ignorance was bliss. Too bad Nick didn't know anything about that.

"What happened to waiting on evidence?"

Nick startled and looked up with surprise at Catherine, looking down at him with a small smile and her best mom-eyes. Whether he was in for a hug or a lecture, he wasn't quite sure yet. He looked around sheepishly. Maybe spacing out on the locker room bench isn't the most effective way to keep up appearances.

"I am," he said, the words sounding hollow and lame even to his own ears.

"Oh," Catherine said, not believing him and not bothering to act as though she did. She lowered herself to sit next to him on the bench, and Nick pretended to be very interested in his pager. "The lockers doing your fingerprint analysis for you?"

"I'm waiting for a page," he answered, lifting his chin defiantly.

Catherine gave him a look. "Nick."

Nick shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'm not waiting on anything. I don't have anything to wait on."

"I thought Grissom gave you that B and E."

Nick snorted. "Yeah. There wasn't exactly a lot to process." Catherine frowned at him questioningly, and Nick realized she was waiting for an explanation. "It's nothing."

And there was the head-tilt.

"Really," he insisted.

And the face. And Nick knew he wasn't leaving the room until he gave her something.

He looked away and sighed. "Grissom just…" His head whipped around, eyes narrow. "Do you think that I can run a solo? Now, I mean."

Catherine raised her eyebrows, seemingly taken aback by the abruptness of his question. "I think you're a great CSI, Nick, you know that. You've run solo cases before."

"I'm not talking about that." Nick shook his head. "Do you think I can handle it?" He swallowed, realizing what he was setting himself up for. "Emotionally?"

Catherine's lips parted, and she took a moment to think about her answer. A moment giving Nick enough time to realize he didn't want an answer.

"I think it doesn't really matter what I think," she said slowly. "When you're ready, then you're ready, and you should be able to work any case you feel you can handle."

Well, that wasn't so bad. "I wish Grissom thought that way," Nick mumbled, realizing a little too late he'd said it out loud.

"What are you talking about?"

Nick shook his head. He felt his shoulders fall, and his hands hung limply between his knees. Despite his intense desire to shut up and ignore the fact the conversation was taking place, he couldn't find the kid in him that wanted to open up to Catherine, and his façade collapsed like a house of cards. "I don't know. Sometimes I think Grissom just doesn't understand."

"What doesn't he understand?"

Nick gave her a small smile. "Anything?"

Catherine laughed lightly. "Yeah, I feel that way, too, sometimes. What isn't he understanding right now?"

"Just this whole solo thing," Nick said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He wasn't sure he wanted such a small thing to blow up into a huge deal, but it was nice Catherine had noticed and was taking some interest.

"What do you mean?"

Except Nick got so excited over someone willing to talk about it, he forgot what came with the territory of Talking to Catherine. He felt the tickle in the back of his throat of the build-up of all the things he wanted to say, and at the same time he heard that tiny voice in the back of his mind ordering him to shut the hell up because she was only going to go straight to Grissom and stir the pot.

"It just meant a lot, you know? And I don't think he got it." Nick compromised, letting out just enough to satisfy his desire to vent and Catherine's incessant need to know everything that was going on.

Cath patted his knee lightly. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

God, no. "Nah," Nick said with a smile. 'It's cool, really, doesn't need to be made into a thing."

The smile Catherine gave him in return wasn't necessarily disingenuous, but too big by far. "Sure," she said. "Well, I gotta get back and check on some fibers."

Nick nodded. The alarmingly wide smile stayed in place as Catherine left the locker room.

When the door swung shut, Nick leaned back until his head thudded against the row of lockers behind him. He had a sinking feeling he'd just started something that couldn't be taken back, and couldn't be going anywhere good.


"I have to admit, I'm proud of you."

Gil's head snapped up in surprise at the sound of Catherine's voice from the other side of his desk. He hadn't even heard her come into his office.

I have to put a bell on her. He was surprised she was even in the lab at this hour. The sun was still setting, and all of the cases they'd taken on the previous night had wrapped up smoothly, giving no reason for her to come in early.

Gil sucked in a long breath. No reason to come in early unless she wanted to talk, which usually meant he was in trouble. He leaned back in his chair and eyed her suspiciously. "And why's that?"

Catherine smiled tightly. "You've mastered a level of insensitive prick I'd thought was beyond even your reach. You're entering Ecklie territory." She cocked her head in that way she had, gauging his reaction.

Gil's eyes narrowed. He was right about apparently being in trouble, without any idea what in the world was going on with his team. It didn't seem anyone was having trouble saying what was on their mind, regardless of its appropriateness. "Look, Catherine, if this is about that overtime I forgot to record last week…"

Catherine frowned. "No. But we're going to talk about that later." She took a few steps closer and sunk into a chair. "I was talking about the way you're treating Nick."

Gil pulled off his glasses. He was apparently not going to be getting any work done at all this week. "I'm not treating him like anything."

"Nick thinks you gave him the B and E just to shut him up."

Gil sighed patiently. "I've already spoken with Nick about the case. It's been made clear to me it was the wrong move to make, one I'm trying to rectify."

"How?"

"I told him he could have a DB tonight."

"Why?"

She was baiting him, and he knew it. Gil did his best to sidestep the trap. "Because it's what he wants."

Catherine shook her head. He'd evidently failed and stepped directly onto a land mine disguised as a one-word question. "What he wants is to know you believe in him and you think he's capable of handling a scene by himself."

Gil hesitated, and she pounced. "You don't, do you?"

He slowly let out a breath. "Do you?"

Catherine hesitated as well. Gil could read in her eyes she wasn't all that thrilled about the prospect. "This isn't about what we think, it's about what he wants and feels he can handle."

Gil took the time to think of a way to word what he wanted to say without sounding insensitive. "I know you want Nick to feel good about himself, but we have a lot more to think about than that."

"What do you mean?"

"You heard just as much as I did about his behavior regarding the McBride case."

Catherine's mouth dropped open, just as Gil knew it would. "That was a single incident, you can't hold it against him – "

"It was a big incident, Catherine. He could have ended up jeopardizing the case, or it could have come back to reflect poorly on the lab – "

"And it was something that might have happened no matter what he'd gone through. The case got to him, and he acted recklessly, I'll admit, but it could have happened to any of us."

Gil sighed again, another patient sigh. "But it didn't."

Catherine glared at him for several long moments, shaking her head. "It was a one-time thing," she said finally.

"How can you be sure?"

Catherine threw her hands out in frustration. 'Well, because it hasn't happened again since."

"That doesn't mean it won't."

"That doesn't mean it will," she shot back.

"I'm going to try to get him to work a solo case tonight if there's one to be had, Catherine. What more do you want from me?"

Catherine chewed her lip for a moment, regarding him carefully. "What I want doesn't matter. I know you mean well for the lab…but we need to think about Nick and what he wants."

"He wants a solo, I gave him a solo," Gil said. He absentmindedly picked up his glasses and started twirling them.

Catherine rose. "He wants more than the solo, Gil."

Gil wasn't sure how he was meant to respond to her statement. Catherine was being cryptic again; there was some subtext to what she was saying but as usual, he wasn't sure he was picking up on just what it was she was trying to tell him.

He opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but she had left his office just as quietly as she had come in.

Gil said a silent thanks to the gods of office work for him to have something to keep himself occupied until the rest of his team arrived. All too often he found himself feeling like a scolded child sent to his room after an exchange with Catherine. He was supposed to be thinking about something, she'd made that much clear; he just wasn't quite sure what it was she wanted him to think about. He'd told her quite clearly how he felt about the situation.

Gil pulled his glasses back on and looked down at the case files covering the surface of his desk. He picked up his pen and reached for a file.

"Hey, Gil." A nauseatingly familiar voice chirped amiably as Conrad Ecklie let himself into the office.

"Conrad." Gil watched with a frown as the man stood at his bookshelf with his hands in his pockets. Ecklie chuckled nervously at the variously sized aquariums and terrariums filling the shelves.

This just goes to show that nothing good comes from procrastinating, Gil thought, once again shuffling papers out of the way. Ecklie wouldn't have come into enemy territory unless it was necessary.

Ecklie turned and made his way over to Gil's desk, easing himself into the chair. "Comfortable," he noted with an air of surprise.

Gil's frown deepened. "Is there something I can help you with, Conrad?"

Ecklie smiled tightly. "I'm sure you're aware of our lab review coming up next week."

Gil sat back and gave a general nod, trying not to let on that he had no idea what Ecklie was talking about.

"I mean, if you've been reading the memos I've been sending your way," Ecklie said with a knowing smile.

Gil had gotten the memos, but without reading them had immediately filed them in the special filing system he reserved for messages from the assistant director: the garbage can.

"Of course," he said, returning the smile. He could have sworn he saw Ecklie's lip curl in disgust.

"Well, I've been going through the stats, and it looks like Greg Sanders is the only field CSI on payroll without a solo case credit on his file."

Gil nodded, fighting the urge to shake his head at the other man's single-mindedness. It just figured that Ecklie was using this opportunity to pick on the graveyard shift. "And you want the lab to look good come review day."

Ecklie smiled. "You got it." He rose out of the chair. "It doesn't have to be anything too grand, we just want to get Sanders' name on it. Toss him a softball, something a tech could handle. See if PD has a B and E."

A B and E… Gil's lips parted slightly as he remembered what he'd told Nick the night before, not to mention the conversation he'd just had with Catherine. Warrick was off that night, and there was already a double homicide sitting on his desk. He wasn't all that certain he was going to be able to cover the caseload and have both Nick and Greg on solo cases.

"And Gil?"

Gil looked up. Ecklie was already on his way out of the office. "Get it done tonight."


To be continued...