Italics indicate Nick's dream.
Nick had no way of knowing how long he had been sitting on the uncomfortable cot for. The guards had changed shifts several times, but he had never felt inclined to count and try to figure out how long he had been there for. He could have easily asked, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He didn't want to find out that it was shoter than it felt or a lot longer than he had expected. So he just sat there, his head in his hands, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
He knew that the whole computer chip thing was a cover for something bigger that James was planning, Nick just didn't know what yet. Despite the help Brass and Warrick had offered to him, Nick knew he was on his own. He didn't want to get them involved any further for fear that they would end up getting killed or worse for associating themselves with him. He didn't want them getting hurt. He wasn't as concerned with his own safety as long as he brought Jack's murderer to justice and got James what he deserved. He knew the information he had was more valuable than anything, and he had to find a way to give it to Brass without actually giving it to him.
Nick had to be discrete. No one could know he had the disk or that he even knew it existed. He also had to pretend that he didn't know that James had killed Jack. He had to act like he wasn't suspicious and had to go along with the computer chip deal. He had become very good at lying, so hopefully that would come in handy. He had to find a way to get Brass the necessary information at the best possible time, where James couldn't see him doing it or find out that he had done it. He had to make sure that that would be it and that he would be done for good so that his chances of coming out of this alive would be greater.
Nick lifted his head when he heard someone stop in front of his cell. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. He had been expecting this since he had been put in there, and knew it was only a matter of time before he had come to see him. He looked up and smiled slightly as he stood and walked over to the barred door separating him from the other man.
"Hey Nick," Warrick said, quieter than he normally spoke.
"Hey Warrick," Nick replied, his smile still on his face. He wrapped his hands around the bars in front of him and sighed slightly. "What's up?"
Warrick shrugged slightly. "Nothing, just coming to check on you. How ya holdin' up?" Nick opened his mouth to respond, then stopped and shook his head slowly. "What?" Warrick asked in mild confusion.
"I almost forgot that you weren't expecting an easy answer," Nick said.
Warrick nodded slightly. "Yeah. I always thought that this would be the other way around, us on opposite sides of the bars, but me in the small room." Warrick paused then said, "Is it too small?"
Nick knew he was referring to his claustraphobia, and had expected as much. "No," he answered honestly. "It hasn't really sank in that I'm in here yet. I've been thinking about Jack too much."
"I'm sorry," Warrick said, meaning not just about Jack but about everything.
Nick shrugged. "It's not your fault."
"It's not yours either," Warrick said. "You can't add this to the load that's already on your shoulders. No one ever tells you that a burden like this takes forever to get rid of."
"No one ever tells you that forever feels like home," Nick said softly. "That's where most of my hope is coming from, knowing that it may take forever to get rid of this, but that means I have forever to get it done."
Warrick nodded slightly and looked down at the file in his hands. Nick looked down too, noticing it for the first time. He didn't have to ask what the file was. He knew that it was his file, probably including all the allegations and suspicions about the other criminal activities he's been involved with.
"How much is real?" Warrick asked, still looking at the folder.
"There's so much to question," Nick replied. Warrick looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Before you tell yourself it's just a different scene, remember it's just different from what you've seen."
Warrick smiled slightly. "Jack teach you that?"
Nick nodded with a smile. "Yeah, he did."
"What else did he teach you?" Warrick asked, trying to help Nick figure out what he was going to do by making him remember important things from Jack.
"I don't even know where to start," Nick said, knowing what Warrick was trying to get him to do. "I can't think straight, there's too much rattling around up here," he said as he ran his hands through his dark hair. "He had so many quotes and sayings...he was worse then Grissom man, I swear."
Warrick smiled slightly. "That can be a good thing if you use it right."
Nick nodded. "Yeah, I just hope I can."
The two friends were silent for some time. They just stood there, facing one another, but looking anywhere but at each other. Warrick was tightly gripping the folder in his hands and Nick had a firm grasp on the bars. The cold metal was now warm from his hands, so he slid them down to a colder spot that was somehow refreshing to him.
Warrick looked up, and Nick did as well. They locked eyes as Warrick asked, "So I take it you can't tell me what you want to tell me, huh?"
Nick nodded. "Bingo."
"Thought so," Warrick said. "It's a simple question man, you're either with me or not at all."
Nick knew where Warrick was coming from, and didn't blame him for asking. After looking at the file, it was a little fuzzy as to which side Nick was on. But Nick didn't see sides anymore. It wasn't good guys versus bad guys, not to him anyway. Because if it was that way, he wouldn't be either. He's a good guy doing bad things to make the bag guys lose. So he didn't think of this as having sides, but more of it was him against something he knew was wrong, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right.
Nick didn't answer Warrick's question directly. "While you're out there, looking in, describing what you see," Nick said, motioning with his head to the outside of the holding cells where he knew Brass, Grissom and probably Catherine were waiting for Warrick, "remember what you're staring at is me."
Nick had laid down on the stiff mattress for the first time since his stay had begun shortly after Warrick had left. He stretched out and tried to get comfortable, but soon realized that that was going to be impossible. He closed his eyes and rested his hands on his stomach, feeling the muscles of his abs contract and expand with each of his slow, steady breaths. He was actually quite surprised and content with how he was handling being in such a small room. Something like this would both him under normal circumstances, but nothing having anything to do with him could be considered normal anymore.
Nick felt his breathing getting deeper and slower as he slowly drifted off to sleep. He felt himself slipping into something of a relaxed state, and was glad he was finally going to get some rest. That's what he was hoping, anyway.
Jack was the exact opposite of the last time Nick had seen him. His eyes were the sparkling green they had always been, his skin the correct color. He was standing up, and he was smiling. Nick felt like he was in a drug enduced haze, which he ventured might not actually be too far from the truth.
"What's going on Jack?" Nick asked, not understanding why it didn't seem like they were anywhere that actually existed.
"That's still up to you," Jack said. "Have you decided yet?"
Nick felt frustration take over his body. "Don't do this. I need your help. I know what to do, I just don't know how to do it. You can't just stand back and watch me screw this up."
"I'm not gonna watch you screw it up because you can't screw it up," Jack said.
Nick felt like yelling, but thought better of it. "Yes I can. I'm going crazy. I'm having these dreams that feel so real, but can't be because you're dead. You're dead, you left me here by myself. I'm going crazy and have no one to tell me that I am."
"You're not going crazy Nicky," Jack said. "These are all pre-conceived thoughts that have been built up and processed in your mind and the only way you can make sense of them is when you're asleep and relaxed. Come on, you know this. You took psych for two years in high school."
"Why do you do this?" Nick asked. "Why do you give me these riddles and sayings and let me hang from them like they're my lifeline?"
"Because they are," Jack replied, "and it's the only way to get through to you. You're the smartest guy I've ever known, and the only way to get you to be that guy is to make you. I'vee given you everything you need, you just need to find it and use it."
"How am I supposed to find it?" Nick asked.
"Think," Jack said simply.
"What the fuck do you think I've been doing for the past days or weeks? I don't even know how long it's been. How am I supposed to find something if I don't know what it is?"
"So what are you gonna do?" Jack challenged. "Give up? Let everything that you've done and thought and felt become what you've been trying to keep it from? You're gonna stand there and tell me that this is all going to be for nothing?"
"No," Nick said weakly. "That's not what I mean."
"You just need to let this happen in whatever way it may. The quicker that things unfold, the quicker that they subside. You had the writing on the wall."
"But now the walls have all come down," Nick said.
Jack smiled. "Exactly." He paused and looked at Nick before saying, "Wanna know why the call it 'The American Dream'?" Nick didn't respond, so he continued. "Because you have to be asleep to believe it."
Nick was trying to figure this out before he woke up. "What does this have to do with The American Dream?"
"This is your American Dream," Jack said. "You've been after it your whole life, and to get it, all you have to do is think and let go."
"Let what go?" Nick asked.
Jack smiled as he began to fade away. "Just let go."
Nick woke up with a start, similiar to the fashion he had woken up in the first time he had had a dream like the previous one. He knew this was all psychological, but that still didn't make it feel any less real. He didn't get how he could hold these conversations with Jack in his head that were so life-like and could actually have happened, if given the chance. Jack had always had little sayings and anecdotes that he would tell Nick to get him to think, and it always worked out in the end. it wasn't working out now, so Nick guessed it wasn't the end.
Nick just wished Jack hadn't said - or he hadn't dreamed that Jack had said - to just let go. Nick didn't know what he was supposed to let go of, but he did know that that was one of his biggest problems. He had trouble letting go of things, especially things that meant a lot and were close to him. If he was supposed to let go of it, Nick wasn't sure if he would be able to.
He sighed and sat up slowly. He was trying to slowly mull over all the things Jack had ever told him, whether it was in real life or in one of his dreams. None of it made sense out of context.
Nick ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "Well," he said out loud to himself, "I guess I'm gonna have to put it into context."