The Toymaker


It was how he coped.

When things became too stressful he would force himself to focus and simply create. If he was nervous and pacing he would force himself to sit down, and to keep his hands steady as he went to work. It didn't matter if he was actually building them in his garage that had long ago been converted into a workstation, or if he was working on his creations on his designer's program on his laptop.

Creating toys was his real release. Ironically it was also a way for him to let his imagination take over, and to feel free. They kept him grounded by keeping him sane, and they allowed him to escape. Tough cases could be resolved one of several ways. He could hang out with Warrick or even Catherine. He could lose himself in a heart pounding run through the park several blocks from his house. He could drive out of the city and spend the afternoon paragliding. Or he could sit down and design his very own toys.

The truth was that he wasn't a CSI for the money. He had an open ended job offer from a friend in New York that owned an extremely successful toy store. In fact he had already sold the company dozens of his designs. He was a CSI because he wanted to help the victims, to be their voice, and to be the man and take the bad guys down. It's what CSIs did; what he did.

Although, he would always enjoy the times he would spend discussing his designs with various businesses in Vegas. At times he'd manage to squeeze in a meeting in other cities while he was there for a forensics conference. He had remembered one office that had overlooked the store itself, and the sight of two little boys both holding up figurines he had designed would forever be ingrained in his memory. The excitement he had given them, those smiles they wore were there because of him.

That had been better therapy than any shrink could ever give him. Seeing those kids had made him realize a lot of things. He had been nervous about the whole thing at first, it had been nine months since he had been buried alive. Only weeks since he had seen Kelly Gordon commit suicide. That had been the cause of another few weeks of intense therapy with a therapist he had been seeing regularly since Nigel Crane had stalked him.

In a single minute those little boys had done more than his therapist had ever done in four years.

Which was why he had started to really pick up his hobby once more. After the entire Las Vegas Crime Lab had discovered his hobby from the Crime Stopper article that he loathed he had let the creative part of him start to slip. Except he wanted to put more smiles on kid's faces. That had been a more powerful drive than the embarrassment caused by his stalker.

Catherine knew. She had told him how Lindsay had begged for a toy, and how shocked she had been to see his name on the back in small print as the designer. Needless to say she had bought the figurine, and had Nick still smiled when he remembered how surprised she had been when he told her he had designed the whole set of figurines Lindsay had become fascinated with, as well as the story that went with them. In the end he had gotten Lindsay the whole set for free. Catherine, in turn, had been forced out of gratitude to say nothing to anyone at the Lab.

It was a favor he had also done for Cassie McBride. The little girl had been surprised when he had given her a large box of his own creations to take with her to her new home. She had smiled, and written him his very own card. The folded piece of construction paper sat perched right next to his computer. The other one had remained in his locker. Both offered him more comfort than he had thought possible. The words and drawings on each would be forever remembered, just like the smiles of those two boys.

Diversions. He remembered when Grissom had first approached him about making sure he had 'distractions' from work. Nick remembered giving his supervisor an all out smile, and telling him he had plenty of diversions. Though he cared too much for his privacy to go into depth and discuss any of his hobbies.

At times he could even incorporate his different hobbies into one. He had designed a series of action figures. The people wore medieval, fantasy styled clothing, and rode on giant birds. He had also designed another series of figurines of police officers. Other designs included several science fiction based sets, even a group of firemen figurines. There were also the stuffed animal birds, and the few baby toys.

Just making and designing such toys was instantly calming. Ideas never ran out for him, and he had gathered up a massive stockpile of them growing up. His imagination had always run rampant, but it had been a certain event in his life that had really triggered it.

He had been nine years old. The mere thought of how he had been abused still haunted him. Nick had never felt normal again. All his spare time was spent daydreaming. He would imagine all sorts of unexplainable fantasy worlds. It had been easier for him to wish he could fly away and take part in all types of adventures than it would be to face reality.

Worlds where things were perfect. Where the good guys always won, and the bad guys were always defeated. Worlds where children and innocent people were safe, and there was always an abundant supply of heroes. He wanted to be a hero, and in a way becoming a CSI had been the closest he could come. It was how he could put away the bad guys, the villains who had the audacity to harm innocent people.

Making children smile was something of a peace offering. He couldn't help all the victims, and at times it would cause his heart to shatter. In the end bringing smiles to children was a way of trying to make things right in the world. Catherine had never noticed that the figurine Lindsay had wanted so badly had been the closest replica of Kristy as he could create from the single picture he had and his own memories. The figure of Kristy was clothed in a white dress, her face bearing a warm smile, and her bird that she could fly away on a simple dove.

It had been his final tribute to her. At the same time it had helped assuage his pain and guilt of losing her. This enabled him to escape. There were too many people to help, too many victims. And in certain ways he wanted to compensate for that by giving children what he hoped were items that could bring more smiles to their faces. It could get their imagination whirling, and in turn maybe give them a little bit of hope as they grew up in a world full of terrible things.

Making the toys also gave him a chance to feel like a kid himself again. He had been forced to grow up too fast, learning hard lessons at the age of nine, and having to suffer through the consequences of being victimized at such a young age. His designing would give him the chance to remember the better times, with his parents and siblings, it would make the terrifying memories go away.

But, in the end, it all came down to those two smiles. No matter how much it helped him in other ways, those smiles were why he really did it. Nothing had ever made him feel better in his entire life than seeing those two little boys. Their laughter and excited, lit up faces when they watched their parents put the two figures in their cart was enough to banish every dreadful memory he had collected over the years.

Because he had made them smile, and that made everything worthwhile.


The End


Notes: Just thought this provided a different angle on Nick's character. He doesn't really seemed too depressed in the show, and I don't really think the character is. I also haven't really read a single story examining anything about this particular hobby, and since I'm incorporating it into another story I'm writing I decided to just write a little one shot about it. Hope you enjoyed this, and I look forward to some reviews.