He had been staring at the vending machine for at least ten minutes when Cath nudged his arm.
"Warrick? You all right?"
The damned truth was that he kept seeing the bracelet before his eyes. "Uh? Yeah, dandy."
"Don't look that way to me. You want something, when did you last eat by the way? Or sleep? I brought some pizza, let's get some food into you before you keel over."
His hand flew up to his neck, massaging it slowly. "You're going all mom on me? Oh, and I did sleep tonight, in a chair," he chuckled. "And I'm suffering the consequences."
"We all get older," Cath smiled. "But never old enough for me to stop pampering my favorite guys. C'mon, I wanna see Nicky and you're gonna sit down and eat. I told Greg to take you home tonight, you can't sleep at Nick's; still not done with the investigating."
"Not going anywhere without Nick, happen to see what went down last time I left?"
Cath looked at him with a knowing smile. "So how is he?"
"Stubborn as usual, all the mules in Texas have nothing on him." He shook his head and followed the strawberry blonde down the aisle. "Doc's with him right now. You do know what happened, right?"
Cath nodded. "Sick bastards, but they won't get to him, not ever. Ecklie's okayed the fact that graveyard is on sick leave on and off until this is solved. And Griss took a leave of absence, he's got something up his sleeve but he isn't very communicative, as usual."
"Grissom took time off?" Warrick was baffled, "write this day down for history."
"He's always had a soft spot for Nicky," Cath smiled and looked surprised over her shoulder at Warrick's grumble. "What?"
Warrick was salvaged by Nick's doctor approaching them: "Mr Brown?"
He couldn't quite suppress the tremor running through him at the physician's expression. "Yes?"
"Mr. Stokes has requested that you should hold the power of attorney, are you willing to accept that?"
"What? Why?" Warrick had expected anything but this.
"He wants somebody closer than his family in Texas to make the decisions necessary. Can't say I blame him but if you do accept you need to sign here." He extended the document and Warrick simply signed it without even hesitating.
Taking the document back the physician locked gaze with Warrick. "Now to the real problem."
Warrick's mouth went dry.
"Problem?" Cath inquired, resting her hand on Warrick's shoulder to calm him down.
"Mr. Stokes has decided to leave against strong medical advisement. I removed the Foley and the oxygen and IV-fluids. But I refused to remove the IV-canola, he still needs his pain medication intravenously. I've ordered him tomato soup to eat and if he can hold that down and walk by himself to the bathroom I will have no other choice than to do as he wishes and get the release papers ready. If not, I'll call in a psych consult because he really is in no shape to be leaving yet."
Warrick's veins swelled immediately and started throbbing. "He wants to leave? What the fu-. I'll talk to him, Dr. Bloomfield and get him straightened out, he's just – I'll talk to him and be back."
Dr Bloomfield nodded and turned to walk away to the nurses' station.
Warrick seethed, "I'll have to kill him myself."
Catherine moved her hand to his arm. "C'mon Rick, let's go straighten the boy out."
Sara was in some kind of heated debate with the man already as they filed in.
"Are you listening to yourself Nick? You haven't even been on your feet but once yet and you're about to release yourself?"
Nick mumbled something that Warrick was unable to decipher.
"Itched, the EKG itched?" Sara wheezed. "Are you out of your mind?" She turned at the sound of the closing door and lifted her hands in the air. "You know what he went and did?" she asked in their direction. "You talk to him. I give up! I can't take this!" With a last desperate glance at Warrick she walked out. Leaving Nick's 'But Sar – ' unanswered.
Warrick wanted to pick the man up and shake some sense to him but Cath's reprimanding glare made him sink down on the chair Sara had occupied earlier, instead. They were hovering like mother hen, waiting for him to put his foot in the mouth. And Nick looked duly chastised where he half sat, leaning onto the bed raised close to vertical and fiddled with the sheet.
"So uh, Rick, didn't want the power of attorney?" He looked from under his brown, just like a little boy and Warrick was about to open his mouth and read him the riot act but Cath intervened.
"No Nicky, Warrick signed all right, it's just the fact that you wanna leave that almost gave him a heart attack." Her tone was all honeyed and sweet.
"Oh ai'ght, I thought he might be pissed off because of Tina and everything." He stole a look at Warrick and looked down the minute Warrick pinned him to the bed with his glare.
"What?" Cath asked surprised. "Didn't he tell you? Tina's asked for divorce. Filed the papers and all."
"I know, that's just it. I mean, Warrick's been here for days and I can't help wondering if that's part of the problem? Maybe you can fix it still?" Nick turned to Warrick, eyes big and wide, demonstrating the innocence that sometimes drew Warrick up the wall.
Warrick decided not to let the puppy eyes affect him in the least. "You think me being by my bud's side when he gets shot is the problem? You know the problems started long ago." he said and signed a point for himself at Nick's blush.
Cath's eyes followed their every move and Nick squirmed under her scrutinizing gaze.
"What are the two of you talking about? Why do I get the feeling I've been left totally out of the loop?" Catherine leaned in, letting her eyes wander between the two of them.
"Cath, don't worry. Nick knows exactly what I' talking about, he just doesn't want to admit it." Warrick spoke with his eyes on his man. "Or do you really want to get into it right here and now?"
"You're right, I'm sorry," Nick apologized just as expected and Warrick signed another point won.
"Not as sorry as you will be."
"Huh?" Wide eyes not entirely covering the slight wince as he turned to face Warrick again.
"For even thinking about leaving." Warrick kept his voice low and threatening, assigning the third point when Nick looked down on the crisp white sheets.
"But Griss said –"
"Grissom?" Warrick exploded, "what he's got to do with anything?"
"He's arranged a place for me to stay while I get my -," Nick pleaded innocuously and Warrick cursed himself for losing it. And revealing enough for Catherine to wrinkle her brow and look his way concerned.
"Oh," Warrick wheezed, "you give the power of attorney to me and then you go off with Griss to hide in some fucking cave?"
Nick looked at Cath for guidance.
The woman glared at Warrick, putting her hand on Nick's. "What did Griss tell you?"
"Just that I needed to stay off the radar for a while, that he has found a place of some bona fide army friend of his father's who has a cabin someplace with all the commodities and surveillance. Because he was paranoid in the end, that's the father, not Grissom's friend. Say's his friend is a doctor and he'll be close by so I don't need to worry about a thing. I'll just have to stay there until this thing is sorted out."
"So Griss is picking you up tonight?" Warrick seethed.
"I can't talk about that here, Rick." Nick threw another long-lashed, pleading glance in his direction for good measure.
The door opened and nurse Nell appeared with a tray and smiled sweetly. "Well, Nick, oh um, Mr. Stokes, here's your meal. Dr. Bloomfield says you have to eat it all or he'll call for the consult."
"Thank you," Nick sent off one of his more radiant smiles and Warrick watched nurse Nell waltz out with a smile before he turned back to Nick. The man was stirring the soup with the spoon and looked absolutely disgusted.
"Well Mr. Hot Shot," Warrick prompted. "Looks like your plans with Griss are off because no way in hell will you be able to get that down with the face you're making."
"Warrick," Cath warned.
"You wouldn't swap now, would ya?" Nick pointed to the cardboard box still tucked under Warrick's arm.
"Oh yeah, right! I so am looking forward to you puking your stitches out."
"Not gonna puke," Nick declared and stirred the soup with a smirk.
"Now boys, play nice and eat up while I go and call Gil." Cath patted Nick's leg affectionately and cast one last warning glance at Warrick before she walked out.
"This is not tomato soup," Nick mumbled and took a spoonful, turning a tad green before he swallowed. "This is a nice steak with all the trimmings. Yup, that's what it is."
Warrick watched in silence while Nick fought to get the few spoonfuls down, sweat breaking out on his temples and brow wrinkling while he kept repeating: 'not tomato soup.'
Warrick grinned and opened his box and took a bite off the pizza.
Nick groaned.
Warrick watched Nick with growing concern when he laid further back and closed his eyes. The plate now empty but Nick's coloration still greenish and he appeared sweaty and in pain. Cath returned and with one look at the man slumped in bed she shook her head in Warrick's direction and sat down, laying a hand atop of Nick's.
"Nicky, hold on, the nurse is coming with the pain meds. You shouldn't be forcing yourself like this."
"Just tired," Nick mumbled.
"Lifting that spoon wiped you out and you wanna get released?" Warrick growled. "Man, you got a death wish or something?"
"Rick!" Cath snapped and Nick opened his eyes in a narrow slit. Too late Warrick realized he'd just given Nick all the incitement he needed to really get up and walk out the door. Just to spite him.
"Bro, listen to me man. I want you outta here too. But I want you out of here when you can manage to take a piss on your own without me having to worry 'bout you diving head first into the porcelain throne and whacking that thick head of yours open." He was building up to a beautiful sermon when nurse Nell showed up. Syringe in hand and a reprimanding look on her face at his harsh tone of voice.
"Mr. Brown, Dr. Bloomfield wanted you to administer his medication just in case. He's going to need 3 ml Dilaudid every 8 hours to begin with, and additional booster of a unit might be necessary, depending on his level of pain. You can consult your doctor for the dose needed after that. You need to push the medication in slowly. You okay with that, Mr. Brown? Dr. Grissom will take over if you're not comfortable with the proceedings."
"Just show me how to," Warrick replied.
Cath put a hand on Nick's shoulder.
Nurse Nell looked just a tad apprehensive when she showed Warrick how to lift the lid and insert the point of the syringe into the slot and then push the medication in while counting. Warrick's eyes never left Nick's face as he did what he was told and cold sweat formed on his brow. When he was done, he breathed out and nurse Nell smiled approvingly.
Warrick had to walk to the end of the bed and rest heavily on the frame.
"A real pro," Nick smiled weakly and Warrick simply shook his head. "You're not leaving here Nicky."
"Gimme ten minutes and I'll go pee in that thing and be outta here."
Warrick watched the man in the bed and knew he had lost the war.
Stuck in late night traffic behind a fender-bender, he watched the man belted up in his passenger seat. Grissom's car in front of them and Gregg's Jetta right on their tail. Still, he broke out in cold sweat from the delay. He continuously scanned the surroundings, letting his eyes search for any suspicious circs on the crowded street, then dart back to Nick and check up on him.
"Rick, I'm fine and it's not like accidents never happen on Desert, I think I've even been called out here once or twice. Calm down. I told you we should have stayed on Flamingo and turned north on Maryland."
"You should have stayed at the hospital." His eyes picked up on something reflecting under a street light and his hands tensed around the steering wheel until he noticed it was only a cigarette being lighted.
"You've pointed that out, like eleven times already."
Warrick craned his head enough to glare at Nick before he went back to his surveillance of the street. "And you're gonna hear it eleven more."
Grissom's brake lights dimmed and they were finally off when Nick spoke quietly. "You know I couldn't stay there and risk more people's lives. A man died in the fire you know, and if I'd stayed there –"
"The man was 84 and had just had a massive stroke, Bro. Who you kidding here?"
"Still had a chance."
"As vegetable of the year?"
"That's just cruel, man!"
Warrick turned north on Paradise and never bothered to answer. Nick turned to look out the side road and Warrick could tell he was literally soaking in the signs of night life. The street lights flicked over his face and illuminated the pensive expression.
"I just don't get this," he spoke. "Who the hell was it I saw? It must have been someone I recognized and who knew I did, but I don't remember anything." He paused, lifting a hand and wincing before he let it fall back down to his lap. "Some old case? I gotta find a way to joggle my memory."
"Hey, you gotta heal up first." Warrick kept is voice equally low. "We're on it, bro. Sooner or later something's gotta give."
"Man, did it ever occur to you that this thing can only end in two possible ways?" Nick turned to him, face eerily stoic. "Either they get to me or I remember. Up to take a bet on which happens first?" Nick grinned to contradict the bitter truth in his words. "I just don't wanna take anybody along with me if they get to me first, that's all."
Warrick swallowed around the lump in his throat as he pulled up on the street leading to Grissom's townhouse and stopped at the driveway.
"Nick, nobody's getting to you coz' they'll have to come through me first."
Nick turned to him, eyes dark in the light from the dashboard. Jaw tensing up and his gaze never wavering when he reached to nudge Warrick's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
"Y'know bro, that's exactly what I'm scared of."
He sat on Nick's bed in Grissom's guest room and watched the man's eyelids flutter and breath deepening as he finally drifted off. Nick was pissed, that much was clear. Pissed at Cath for forcing him to eat her baby formula instead of the steak he obviously was dreaming of. At Griss for not bringing him up to speed and at him for not siding with him against Catherine's pampering and babying. Warrick had to grin at the pouting the man was able to pull off, even in this state.
The low voices from the dining room were like a soft hum, never clear enough to decipher. Cath, Grissom and Greg were in there, going through the evidence again, making plans and forming plausible theories to help unveil the riddle. Warrick was just too tired to join them.
He flicked on his finally-charged phone and noted the 14 missed calls and 5 messages and started going through the methodically. Most were from two days ago, from Tina and the rest were from different members of graveyard and Vega. He figured they'd just called to check up on him or Nick. The messages from Tina started with reminders of his stuff still being at her place and that she needed the room. The next one a little harsher in tone, the last one simply stated that she had packed all his belongings and he'd better either come himself or send someone to pick them up. Sighing, he closed the phone. He knew he had to get to that sooner or later but the finality of the act bothered him. He knew it was all over, had been before it began really, but his failure would be concrete the moment he picked up the last of his things. On some level he wondered if it was an omen for things to come? Would he even be able to protect Nick from the ghosts chasing him? Exhaustion rolled over him, making him feel utterly helpless. Looking at the man in a slightly agitated sleep he lay down besides him, just for a moment to collect his thoughts.
At the dip of his weight hitting the mattress, Nick groaned in his sleep and moved closer to him, head tilting to rest on Warrick's shoulder, the length of his body warm and alive in a comforting manner.
Warrick counted the breaths his man took and breathed in the scent of hospital disinfectant, new sheets and Nick.
He closed his eyes and let his breath fall in pace with Nick's.