The Emancipation of Nick Stokes - Chapter 4
"OK, guys, looks like we've got a quite night to start with, so everyone's doubling up. If anything else comes up later I'll see about splitting the teams when appropriate."
"Catherine, you've got a 288 – 311 over on Convention Centre Drive. Take Greg with you, he needs the experience." As Catherine exited the room to find her partner for the night she could be heard mumbling, "lewd conduct and indecent exposure. I'm pretty sure Greg has plenty of experience in those departments." Still, the look of impish amusement on her face took any sting from the words themselves.
"Sara, a 480 - hit-and-run out near Henderson, take Warrick with you. I'll be in the lab all night, but if you need any help just page me. Oh, and Sara--before you go out, will you drop off the evidence from the Riley case in my office."
Seeing her puzzled expression he choose to forestall any comments. "I'm just tidying up a few loose ends before I put the case to bed. The vic isn't going to press any charges, even if we do eventually come up with a viable suspect and Ecklie's on my ass again to clear and close as many cases as possible."
Nodding her understanding, she swung lightly to her feet and with a quick look in Warrick's direction, said, "Catch you outside in five. I'm driving." She was out the door before Warrick's "Picture that" had even registered.
XOXOXOXOX
The remainder of the shift went by without incident, and it was a slightly perturbed Grissom who sat in the gloomy confines of his office catching up on more long neglected paperwork. Try as he might, though, he could not prevent his eyes from drifting over to the now closed Riley file. He didn't know what it was about the young man that had captured his attention; for some reason Gil kept finding himself remembering pain-filled brown eyes and the expression of vulnerability on that battered face as the victim slept. He had to shake himself a little to dislodge the clichéd, romantic fantasy of himself as the proverbial knight in shining armour, sweeping in to save the damsel in distress. He reminded himself just what the kid was. All the evidence pointed to him being a prostitute. The location and the circumstances under which he was found, the multiple condoms and lube in his pocket and most damning of all, his own reluctance to tell the truth or press charges. They all screamed "hooker." but somehow Gil couldn't bring himself to care.
After all his years on the job he flattered himself that he was a good judge of character. Something inside him said that Nick Riley was a good guy, not merely a good looking guy, and he was most definitely no maiden awaiting rescue. The memory of his lean male form and sculpted muscles under Gil's hands had sparked something inside him, something long dormant. Still, he'd probably never see him again, so it was a moot point.
X0X0X0X0X
Grissom had cursed Conrad Ecklie, in more than one language, during the long tedious hours of administrative bookkeeping that he endured that night. It is with no small sigh of relief that he crosses his last "t," dots his last "i" and prepares to go home for the day. He's just locking down his computer and gathering his things when Mandy pays him an unexpected visit.
Offering her a seat, Grissom takes in her somewhat aggravated demeanour and the print out and folder that she's clasping tightly in her right hand.
"It's not very often that I see you in my office, Mandy. What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Grissom, I have the results of the prints I ran from your assault victim and I wanted to get them to you as soon as possible. I know that you were hoping to get an ID on your vic from them," she says.
"I'm sorry to bring you up here on a needless errand, Mandy. The vic woke up and I was able to get an ID from him. I'm sorry; I should have called and told you."
Shifting uneasily in her chair and looking slightly confused at his undisturbed attitude, Mandy leans forward, asking, "If I may ask, what name did the victim give you, sir?"
"Mandy, what's this about?" Grissom starts to feel slightly ill at ease, but seeing the determination on the grim-faced woman across from him, he capitulates. "Nick Riley."
Mandy swallows hard before she speaks. "That's not the name that the computer kicked out."
After allowing Grissom to assimilate the information, she continues. "The reason that it took me so long to get an ID, is that after first trying IAFIS and getting no results, I began searching further a field. I got a hit on the National Missing Persons Database. The prints come back to a boy by the name of Nick Stokes." She stops there, perhaps to gather her breath, or perhaps simply to gather strength for what she is about to say next. "Nick Stokes was reported missing on November 21st 1988, he was seven years old."
For long minutes nothing is said, as Grissom sits stunned by the unexpected revelation. His office, normally so comfortable, feels like it's closing in around him, around them both, and he wants nothing more than to get away from its organized clutter. Away to somewhere, anywhere where what he had just heard could not, would not be true.
With a quiet clearing of her throat, Mandy regains his attention. "I wanted to be sure before I brought this to you, so I ran the prints a second time and I printed out a copy of all the information in the missing persons report." She places the unopened folder gently before him. "There's a picture included."
With surprisingly steady hands he pulls it towards him and after the briefest hesitation, flips it open. Nick Riley's smiling face greets him. The passing of the years has changed him so little that he is easily recognizable. However, the brown eyes that shine from the photograph are a world away from those of the young man Gil had so recently encountered. Filled with innocent happiness and honest joy, they bear little resemblance to the eyes that haunted the face Gil saw earlier, where poorly hidden sorrow vied with pain and weariness for supremacy.
Looking up into Mandy's anxious face, Gil nods once, "it's him, it's Riley."
"My god, Mr. Grissom…19 years. He's been missing 19 years." She looks like she wanted to say more, but can't find the right words. "Do you think his family is still looking for him? Does he even know who he is? God… can you even imagine it?"
No, he can't imagine it, but he's going to try. He needs to know what happened to Nick. "Leave this with me, Mandy. I'll let you know if I want to proceed any further with it, OK?"
Standing, taking the hint at his words, she says, "Sure," and heads for the door. Before she has even reached the threshold, Gil is hunched over the information that she left on his desk, revisiting the past in search of answers in the present.
XOXOXOXOXO
"Sure, Nick, take off a few days man, whatever you need to get better. No point in you coming in if you're not fit to work, eh? Besides, while you're out maybe I can get a little action without the competition around."
The chuckle that followed that last remark lets Nick know that his boss is just pulling his chain. In fact he can almost see the suggestive twinkle in Rob's eye. "Just give me a call when you're ready to come back and I'll put you back on the roster, OK?"
"Thanks, Rob; hopefully it shouldn't be more than a week. They bruised up my ribs pretty good but lucky for me there's no broken bones. Hurts like a son of a bitch right now, mind you. Lousy muggers."
"No problem, Nick. You just get to feeling better soon and I'll talk to you next week. Bye."
Putting down the phone, Nick breathes a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that Rob would fire his ass for being off sick, but stand up guy that he is, he's come through and his job is safe. Well, for now anyway.
Now that at least one of his problems is taken care off, Nick allows himself to relax as much as possible on his lumpy couch. He really should move his sorry ass into his bedroom and catch some sleep, but he's too damn tired and sore. Settling back he tells himself that he'll '' just rest his eyes for a moment and then go to bed. He's asleep in seconds.
X0X0X0X0X0
FLASHBACK 1989
"Shhhh, I'm sorry, Nicky. So sorry that you made me hurt you, but really, it was your own fault. You made me do it. If you would just do as you are told, then I wouldn't have to punish you."
Nick lay absolutely still in Alissa's arms, too afraid and too sore to move. His small body was dwarfed by her larger frame. He was fighting hard not to cry, afraid that tears would make her angry. He didn't like it when she got angry.
Today wasn't the first time that she had hurt him, but it was the first time she had hit him. He didn't like it when she touched him, 'down there', didn't like the things she made him do to her and he had struggled against her, trying to escape her hateful touch. When she had left the room, like the child that he still was, he had thought that the worst was over.
How wrong he had been.
When, Alissa had returned she had been carrying something in her hand, her face was cold and expressionless. She sat on the end of his bed while Nick huddled at the opposite end.
"Come here, Nicky," she had said.
Shaking and afraid, he tried to feign sleep, and prayed that she would just disappear and leave him alone.
"God, just this once, let her leave me alone." But the Almighty's attention had been elsewhere and his prayer had gone unanswered.
"Nicky, I'm not going to tell you again. Get your butt over here now boy!"
Slowly he had unwrapped his trembling limbs and made his way to her side, eyes down, hands wrapped protectively around his thin body.
"Nicky, I've tried to be patient with you, really I have, but I just don't know what to do with you." She had sighed then before she reached out to take his chin in the palm of one hand, raising his eyes first to meet her own and then to look at the object in her other hand. It was a thick leather belt with a large silver buckle, it was Alissa's favourite.
"I'm sorry it's come to this, Nicky," she had said, "but you've been a bad boy and bad boys have to be punished. Then she told him to bend over the bed and pull his pyjama bottoms down. With an awful certainty he had known then what was coming and had tried to plead with her, beg her not to hurt him, all to no avail.
When the first blow came it had robbed him of both his breath and his courage, but the fifth he had sobbed openly and by the tenth he had prayed for death. All the while, she had told him how he made her do it, how he made her hurt him, because he was a bad boy and bad boys needed to be punished.
When the ordeal had finally ended, she gathered his unresisting body into her arms and carried them both to the head of the bed. Settling herself against the headboard, she had cradled him to her, rocking his trembling body and wiping away his tears.
"Now you know, Nicky what happens to bad boys. What you did was wrong, but you took your punishment like a big boy. I'll forgive you this time, but only if you promise to be better, to try harder. Do you promise, Nicky?"
From his position, curled tight around Alissa's waist, he had raised wide, pain filled eyes and in a tiny voice whispered, "I promise."