A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I know I had fun when I wrote it three or four years ago!
Anyway, I'm not sure if this next chapter is medically correct. The honest truth is that I don't really care if it is, it was an idea that presented itself and I went with it. So, we'll just say that in my version of the world this works. ;)
Chapter Four
"Did you miss me?" Clara asked as she stepped into the cell.
Anger boiling beneath the surface, Nick simply glared at the woman. Pleading with her and reasoning with her were pointless, besides the bag was still crammed into his mouth. The wounds from the handcuffs were itchy and starting to feel hot. Distantly, Nick wondered how many other man had been restrained with them and if they'd been cleaned in between. Somehow he doubted it.
"You look a bit pale. Are you all right?" Clara giggled. She turned from Nick and began rummaging in a series of shelves along the far wall of the cell. After a few seconds, she turned back toward him, what looked like a Depends in her hand.
"You haven't done that yet?" Harry asked as he entered the cell.
"I can't decide which to use," Clara replied. Nick didn't like the gleam in her eyes.
"Whichever works best." Harry didn't want to have anything to do with this.
"I think I'll use both." Clara turned back to the shelves. It was obvious that she'd done this before or at least dreamed of doing it. She was too well stocked.
Giggling, Clara turned towards Nick, one hand behind her back. "This is going to be fun."
The blanket was pulled off of Nick and tossed to the floor. Terrified, yet unable to turn away, Nick watched as Clara put something on the ground below his field of vision. When her hand came back up a knife was clutched in it.
"I've changed my mind. I don't want to leave your boxers on. They'll get in the way." Expertly, Clara ran the knife up one leg and then the other, slicing the thin fabric effortlessly. In seconds, she pulled the shredded material out from under Nick.
"Hmmm. Better than I imagined," Clara purred. Gently, she touched Nick's genitalia. No longer able to take it anymore, Nick pulled away from her cold fingers, grunting into the gag.
"Clara, finish up," Harry growled.
'You're no fun." Pouting, Clara forced Nick to raise himself off the mattress so she could slide the Depends under his buttocks.
Satisfied, Clara pushed Nick back down on the mattress. Reaching beside her, she pulled up a catheter and urine bag.
"It's for your own good." Clara stuck the end of the catheter into a tube of lubricant and then tried to each hold of Nick's penis. Desperately, Nick tried to get away from her. He didn't plan on being here long enough for any of these things to become a consideration. "Hold still."
Giving in, Harry moved forward and caught hold of Nick's hips. Clara scooted around him and proceeded.
White hot pain flashed along stressed nerve endings. Nick screamed shamelessly into the gag as the catheter proceeded on its journey into his bladder. The catheter had to be too large a bore. He knew that it wasn't supposed to hurt this much. Gasping against the gag, Nick couldn't draw enough air. His vision began to go red around the edges. Then darkness descended.
"Are you sure you used the right one?" Harry asked. He'd never seen that kind of reaction before. Something had to be wrong.
"I only had one left," Clara responded innocently. When urine began to run into the bag, it had a red tinge to it.
"I don't think that's right." Harry was getting a worse and worse feeling about all of this. He could almost feel life as they knew it ending with each ragged breath the CSI took. Exasperated, he pulled the bag out. Nick's breathing improved instantly.
"It'll clear up." Clara hung the bag on the other side of the cot between it and the wall.
'I hope you're right. I'm going home." Despondent, Harry left his daughter to her vices, shut the cell behind him and headed to his car.
CSICSI
Humming to herself, Clara carefully cleaned the wounds on Nick's extremities and then the blood on the tip of his penis before closing the Depends. Goose bumps had risen upon his skin again and his teeth were chattering. Clara pulled the blanket out of the corner and tossed it over Nick's naked body.
Minutes passed but Nick's condition improved only marginally. None of the others had fought so long or so hard, none of them had been such a problem. There were no more blankets in the cell. Not wanting Nick to get any sicker, Clara left the cell and went upstairs. In the hall closet on the second floor there were several blankets. She grabbed two of them and headed back downstairs.
Nick was still unconscious when she got back. Clara unfolded the two blankets and added them to the bed. All she could do was wait. As she took up a position on the stool by the door, Clara checked her watch. It was 10:30 pm.
CSICSI
The pain still burned but not as strongly. Barely conscious, Nick moaned as it registered. Reluctantly, Nick came fully awake. Blinking against the light, Nick stifled another moan.
"Good morning," Clara said cheerfully. "Would you like some breakfast?"
The very thought started Nick's stomach growling but he shook his head 'no'. After the tea, he didn't trust anything these people had to offer. His body was beginning to protest having remained horizontal for so long. In an attempt to relieve some of the muscle cramps, Nick shifted a bit. Burning pain flashed the entire length of the catheter. His body stiffened as he rode the waves of pain.
"I guess it really is too big," Clara said, mostly to herself after witnessing Nick's reaction. "Well, I can't take it out. I have nothing to replace it with."
"Would you like some water?" Reluctantly, Nick nodded his head once he'd recovered enough to respond.
Humming, Clara went over to the cooler and retrieved a bottle. It was much harder to drink it this time because Nick couldn't stand to have any moment in the muscles around the catheter. The resulting blinding pain too his breath away every time. None the less, the bottle was soon empty and Nick's mouth wasn't quite so dry.
Clara put the empty bottle with the others, inside a garbage can by the cooler and then moved as if to replace the gag.
"Please, don't" Nick managed. He despised himself from begging but the thought of the gag welding itself to the lining of his mouth again brought tears to his eyes.
"Oh," Clara responded upon seeing the tears shimmering on Nick's dark eye lashes. "Don't dry. I won't put it back."
The sight of such a strong man crying unnerved Clara, in all her live, she'd never seen her dad cry, even when her mom and brother died. She firmly believed the adage that real men didn't cry. The fact that Nick was made her doubt her decision to collect him in the first place.
Distraught, Clara threw the gag onto the floor and quickly left the cell.
Several deep breaths and Nick got a hold of himself. He hated that he sometimes cried when under great stress, like having a gun pointed at him, but it was something he had no control over. How quickly it got rid of his captor was something to keep in mind though.
CSICSI
"How is he?" Harry asked. He'd returned to his daughter's house before he had to go in to work. The stark terror on Clara's face caused him to assume the worst. His stomach clenched and sank several feet.
"He's..." Clara could barely bring herself to say it. "He's...crying."
"Why?" Immediately, Harry assumed that she'd done something especially terrible to make a police officer break down. But then, CSI were not REAL police officers after all.
"The catheter is too big and I was going to put the gag back in," Clara explained.
"Oh." Definitely not as awful as Harry had anticipated. He paused to think. "We should take the catheter out."
"I don't want to have to clean up after him," Clara pouted.
"You wanted him, you'll have to take care of him properly to keep him alive." Harry knew how absurd that sounded. He could be talking about a puppy, not a human being.
A sparkle came to Clara's eyes. "I would have to clean him more often," she said, smiling.
A chill passed through Harry. What had he done so horribly wrong as a father to create such a child?" "I'll get a smaller catheter."
Clara's face fell. That was not the answer she'd been hoping for.
"I'll bring it tonight after my shift. In the meantime, get him to eat something and keep him as comfortable as possible."
"All right." Clara had clasped her hands behind her back, stared at the floor and just barely managed to keep from scuffing her toe on the floor.
Exasperated, Harry headed to the door to the sanity of the streets.
Sleep had stolen over Nick without him being aware that he'd given in. That changed in an instant. Blinding, stabbing pain ripped through his groin. Before he could stop it, Nick cried out and tried to shift away. More pain blossomed and expanded.
Groaning loudly, Nick opened his eyes and looked down his body to find Clara. She had pulled the blankets off and removed the Depends. Grinning blissfully, she had hold of his penis and was contentedly stroking it. Burning embers flamed to acetylene torches with each caress, making it very difficult for him to breathe.
Desperately, Nick tried to form the words to plead with Clara to stop but there was no air in his lungs to help articulate them. His ears buzzing, Nick fought the handcuffs in a futile attempt to reach her hands. As time passed and the pain continued to compound on itself, Nick's vision turned red and the buzzing became a roar. Just as darkness threatened to take over, Clara let go. The pain ebbed almost instantly but it did not go away entirely. However, Nick was able to take several great lungful of air. The darkness retreated.
"Did that hurt?" Clara asked, her face completely innocent.
"Go to hell," Nick breathed. The light headedness and the roaring were abating with each minute that passed. Spasms of pain still travelled the length of the catheter but he could handle it.
"Don't swear!" Angrily, Clara swatted Nick in the groin. The new pain didn't get a chance to register before Nick's mind shut itself off as a form of self preservation.
"I don't like it when you swear!" Clara shrieked. Her fist came down on Nick's genitals, hard. A drop of blood oozed from the tip of his penis around the plastic tubing as the assault ripped delicate flesh.
"Look what you made me do," Clara continued, almost beside herself. "Now I'm going to have to wash your mouth out with soap!"
Her face red with anger, Clara left the cell. A few minutes later she returned with a basing of steaming water, a bar of soap, a face cloth, towel and a stiff bristled nail brush. Oblivious to the scalding water, Clara thrust the face cloth and soap into it and rubbed them together until she had a good lather.
Roughly, Clara caught hold of Nick's member and swiped at the blood. More quickly replaced it. In some part of her rational mind, she realized that she'd really damaged the man. Gently, she released Nick and turned her attention to the rest of his body. Her final act was to stick the cloth in the unconscious man's mouth while it was full of soap. Small bubbles expanded and contracted with each breath.
The light flickered three times.