Author's Note:

Hey guys. Sorry to have kept you waiting this long. Between a very stressful schedule and the issues with the site in the past two weeks I haven't been able to write or upload earlier. I hope the chapter makes up for it though. Sadly, with the occuring problems on I have not much to go on in terms of how the last chapter was received by you readers, which bums me out a little especially since I invested so much time and emotion into that particular one. I count myself lucky that at least the reviews and alerts seem to have gotten through, before everything haywired, so thanks for that.

Present

A long sigh escaped Nell Jones as she leaned back in her swivel chair and stretched her arms over her head. The case despite being successfully closed within the day had required a lot of technical and intelligence support on her and Erics' end. It had allowed them barely enough time to catch their breath throughout the day. By six p.m. the two had finally discovered the vital evidence to point the team in the right direction to solve the case. Now one and a half hour later, the criminals arrested and with nothing else to be done from their end, Nell put the finishing touches to her report.

"T's crossed and I's dotted. Time to call it," she exclaimed happily. "You done yet?" she asked her partner and glanced at him sideways while still leaning back lazily in her chair, her cheer immediately replaced by deep concern for her partner.

If Eric had looked like hell that morning, then there was no word or phrase to describe his current state. Eyes sunken in and surrounded by dark circles that appeared even more daunting in the bluish light of the computer monitors, hair unkempt from driving his hands through them one too many times in the last hours and face of a too pale complexion for someone who was out in the sun surfing on a regular basis. This was not the man she knew.

"Sending the report to Hetty," he answered, his words blurred together from fatigue and his voice almost robotically monotone. He paused anticlimactically while forcing himself to press the key combinations to save the document and open his e-mail program faster. "… right now," he finished with the crucial press on the 'enter' key. Eric removed the glasses from his nose, wiped a tired hand across his face and rubbed his burning eyes. His movements were sluggish and poorly coordinated and Nell thought it was a miracle that her partner had been able to concentrate on his work. She assumed the only reason for him to last this long was the crazy amount of extra strong coffee he had ingested throughout the day.

Nell felt conflicted. It pained her to see her best friend so vulnerable, exhausted to a point where he was almost ready to crash. But she also was adamant to get him to open up to her. He needed to if he wanted to get back to himself. "So, are you still up for our plans?" she asked hopefully, keeping her voice neutral in order to give him a chance to bail out. Not that she wanted him to, but leaving the decision to him seemed only fair considering his semi-awake state.

Eric put his glasses back on and rotated his tense shoulders. "It's still fairly early, we can do it tonight," he sighed and turned his chair to her. A frown crossed his face when he caught his partner in the middle of a yawn. "Unless you'd rather go home? You look tired," he observed carefully.

Nell opened her eyes wide. "I look tired?" she exclaimed astounded and barked a laugh. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" she quipped in humorless exasperation, shaking her head in disbelief. The Tech Operator blushed and shrugged it off sheepishly. Too tired to argue with her he slumped down deeper in his chair, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes for a moment. "Do you really want to, though? I don't want to force you, Eric," she assured him.

He opened one eye and looked through the slit at her. "I don't want to put you off, Nell…" he started, sighed and then lowered his head to look at her. "But honestly? Sleep sounds much more tempting than Oreos right now," he admitted with raw honesty.

Nell was a little disappointed, but pushed the feeling aside and nodded in understanding. "It's okay. I get it, Eric," she reassured him. She would have to wait, at least for now, but if it meant that her best friend would actually get some shuteye then she would accept it, even if she didn't like it. "Forbearance is not acquitttance. Or so they say." She had never liked the saying.

"Are you sure?" Eric asked uncertainly, quietly.

"Yes, I'm sure." Nell saw the relief on his face. She also noticed the slight drop of his eyelids and found herself immediately concerned again. "Are you okay to drive though? I could give you a ride, if you want?" She looked at him expectantly.

Eric frowned and shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll take the bus or call a cab. You don't have to get out of your way driving me. I live a long way from your apartment," he reasoned.

Nell rolled her eyes and gave him a look of disbelief. "I'm offering, though. You don't have to feel bad for taking me up on it."

Eric lowered his gaze and studied his hands. "I know." He frowned and tried to make up a reason for her to let it go. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't hesitate to take her up on her offer, but this wasn't normal circumstances and he knew deep down that being stuck in a car with her would turn out rather awkward with all the things left unsaid. He couldn't deal with that right now. So he needed an out, only his brain wasn't willing to provide him with a sufficient excuse. He was just about to surrender, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The tech stopped himself from smirking triumphantly. He glanced at Nell again. "Actually, Hetty wanted to talk to me before I left. It might take a while." Eric bit his lip nervously and refused to look in the direction of the entrance.

"I can wait," Nell argued, but was interrupted.

"Go on home, Miss Jones." Nell turned around in her chair, caught off-guard by Hettys sudden appearance. The petite woman slowly and deliberately took a few steps into the room, her hands clasped behind her back. "I will personally see to it that Mister Beale gets home safely," Hetty stated and pierced Nell with a look that left no room for discussion.

The redhead blinked a couple of times and after looking at Hetty a few long seconds nodded her understanding, her face a mask of indifference. "Okay then. I will leave you to your talk," she relented and turned to her partner. "Get some rest, Eric. Good night."

Eric smiled back at her. "I will. Night, Nell." She returned the smile, then averted her eyes and locked them with Hetty, giving her a brief nod.

"Good night, Miss Jones." The Intelligence Analyst departed after lingering a split second longer than necessary. Once she had vanished from the computer lair Hetty laid her complete attention on the only remaining tech in the room. She raised her eyebrows at him in askance curiosity and felt a wicked pleasure at seeing him squirm under her gaze. "May I ask why I get the privilege of covering up your little white lie, Mister Beale?"

Eric gulped nervously and bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, Hetty," he apologized and genuinely sounded it. "I promised Nell we'd talk tonight, if we solved the case in time. We did, but…" he hesitated and frowned, "I can't deal with it right now. I needed an out," he admitted quietly.

Hetty contemplated his explanation and nodded understandingly. "But you have every intention of telling her, Mister Beale." It was more a statement than a question, but her look demanded a reaction from the young man, so he nodded hesitantly.

"I do, Hetty," he assured her. "But that's the problem. I'm so tired right now. My brain is just… fried." He lowered his gaze to his lap once more and raised his right hand to rub over his face again. "When I tell her about my mom I want to have control over what exactly I tell her and how. I'm not ready to spill everything. Not right now, anyways. And I also don't want to snap at her again. She doesn't deserve it." He sighed deeply. His concentration was blown with the wind right now and he needed his filters to be on when he talked to Nell.

The Operations Manager watched him quietly, feeling the misery radiating from him. "Tell me, have you talked to Mister Getz recently?" she inquired, catching the younger man off-guard with the unexpected question.

Eric frowned at the change of topic. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, cleared his throat and answered in defeat, "Uh, no. It's been a while." He shifted again and the computer chair made a squeaky noise in protest.

"How long?" Hetty demanded patiently.

Eric scratched his head. "Four months? Five maybe. I'm not sure." The last time he had seen Nate in person had been after the whole Matthias Draeger fiasco. Their contact after that had been restricted to the occasional phone call and he couldn't remember when exactly the calls had stopped altogether due to Nate's newest assignment.

The older woman nodded thoughtfully. "Have you considered contacting him recently?"

"Once or twice," the blonde answered truthfully. "Why?"

Hetty twisted one corner of her mouth in a knowing half-smile. She took another step closer to her young employee, laying a comforting hand on his left shoulder. "I know that he's become your closest confident, if not the only one aside from your sister." She deliberately left out mentioning herself. She was after all only privy to all the information due to her own investigations.

Eric met her eyes and nodded while swallowing around the lump in his throat. The small woman was right in her assessment. Nate had become more than just a coworker, more than just a psychologist. He had become a friend and sometimes it was easier to talk to him about his nightmares and his concerns than talking to his sister, mainly because the doctor had a neutral perspective on things and could rationalize where Emma couldn't. Aside from that the fact that Nate knew about his past from Hetty and his personnel files gave him the advantage of not having to explain himself to the man. Sure, he had been furious at first, but he'd come to terms with it, was even glad that things had turned out this way. It was give at least an ounce of peace when his past threatened to overwhelm him – a support that he had lacked beforehand.

Pushing the thoughts aside he cleared his throat. "He's on a classified mission right now," he stated. Hetty caught on immediately, understanding what the proclamation implied. There was no easy way to contact the other man via e-mail or phone without the risk of being compromised. Eric wouldn't breach protocol like that ever.

"I understand. But you need to find a way to put your mind at rest. And I have a feeling you won't be able to unless you got some of the pressure off your chest. And you don't want to postpone that dreaded talk with Miss Jones for too long, Eric," the small woman reasoned and underlined it with a pointed look.

"Yes but…" Erics' own eyes were pleading with her to understand what he was trying to convey. "I don't know what kind of mission he's on right now and I won't even consider putting him at risk by breaching protocol. I don't want to be responsible of anything going wrong simply because I need a little psyching up," he argued with his superior, voice strained and on edge.

Hetty remained calm, acknowledging his point with a simple nod. "What if I told you that there is a safe way of contacting him and that I can grant you access to it, Mister Beale?" she laid out for him in a matter-of-fact hypothetical way, her smile growing ever so slightly.

Eric blinked in confusion. "Is there?" he pried curiously. "A safe way of contacting him, I mean. The only safe way any agency would approve of would be a secure line via a satellite phone. I'm usually the one setting those up for any mission originating from our office, but I can't remember having done that for Nate in recent months," he rambled off, his mouth mostly outlining what his brain transmitted on autopilot.

"That's because you didn't do it," Hetty declared, shutting his monologue off effectively.

"Oh. Okay." Eric knew better than to ask any questions. He obviously wasn't privy to the information and it wasn't like the Operations Manager would give him any details anyway. She had already said more than enough. "But are you authorized to give me permission to contact him?"

Hetty nodded, accompanied with a warm smile. "I am. I know I can trust your discretion on this, Mister Beale. While it's a minor breach of protocol I am willing to take the downfall should this come to the forefront, which I seriously doubt. I can't afford losing my elitist Technical Operator over lack of sleep and the ignorance of his mental well-being."

The tech blinked a couple times in confusion, his brain slowly catching up with the subtle hints the wise woman gave him. She didn't have the authority, but she had enough favors to get the upper hand in the matter if needed. "I… Hetty, I really don't know what to say…" The young man stumbled over his own words. He felt honored by the woman's faith in him, but it made him feel uncomfortable nonetheless.

She chuckled warmly. "A simple thank you will suffice, Mister Beale."

Dumbfounded he blushed and stuttered out a clumsy, "Right, of course. Thank you, Hetty." Great way of making a fool out of yourself, he thought. But Hetty feigned oblivion and simply nodded.

"You are welcome," she assured and squeezed his shoulder once more in a gesture of lending moral support. "Come on now, Eric. I will drive you home before you actually fall asleep on this overly sensitive equipment."

Eric opened his mouth in protest. "That's really not necessary. I can take the…" he argued, but it fell flat on the petite woman, who interrupted him.

"Nonsense! This isn't up for debate, Mister Beale. I insist on driving you home. Your apartment is on my way. Besides, I promised Miss Jones that I would personally make you got home safely and I have every intention of keeping that promise. So pack up your things and get your behind downstairs before I drag it down myself," she admonished in an authoritative tone that bore no room for arguments.

"You wouldn't," Eric whispered, slightly shocked.

Hettys eyes sparkled viciously and she threw an evil smile his way. "Oh I would, Mister Beale. Don't humiliate yourself by making me prove it to you," she advised warningly.

Gulping nervously Eric spurred into action, his movements accelerated by the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins. He quickly logged off the computers, snatched his satchel from the floor and hurried after the little ninja. He would never live it down, if he would fall victim to Hettys' sneaky threat. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Hello?"

Eric licked his lips nervously at the confused voice coming through the speaker. "Hey Nate." He tried to sound nonchalant but was almost certain that he failed.

"Eric, is that you? How did you get this number?" The other man still sounded confused, but this time pleasant surprise was mixed in the baritone voice.

"Uh yeah, it's me. Hetty gave it to me."

"I won't even ask how she got hold of this number," came the weary reply over the phone and Eric let out a dry chuckle at that. Nate was just as awestruck as he was when it came to the enigma that was Henrietta Lange. There was silence from the other end for a while before Nate suddenly asked, "Are you okay, Eric?"

Mildly annoyed by the psychologists ability to read his mental state even over the phone Eric answered a little too quickly. "I'm fine. Why would you assume I'm not?"

A chuckle sounded from the other end, followed by a sigh. "Because I know you and I know that you wouldn't call on your own terms unless you're close to a breaking point. So… try again. And don't even think about lying to me, Eric." The tone allowed for no argument.

The blonde winced. It was rare, but the psychologist sure could be commanding if he wanted to be. "Could be better I guess," Eric admitted with a long sigh.

"Not surprisingly so considering what time of year it is." Any previous hardness was gone from the voice immediately, replaced by compassion and sympathy. "How are you holding up? Any recurring nightmares as of late?"

"A few here and there…" Eric answered reluctantly. The muffled strain in his voice betrayed the tenor of what he said, though and the tech knew that he wouldn't be able to keep this from the psychologist, even if they were just talking over the phone and the big man couldn't actually see his fidgeting. "Had a bad one last night."

"How bad?" Nate inquired dreadfully. He was well-aware of the younger man's tendencies to downplay his real pain, so he knew that 'a bad one' most likely translated into 'a terrifying one leaving you unable to breath afterwards'. He got the feared affirmation seconds later.

"Worst kind. Worse than any nightmare I ever had before," he breathed, his voice trembling. He closed his eyes and held the phone tightly to his ear, his fingers already cramping from the strain they were under.

Getz remained silent for a moment and processed the disclosed information. After a while he asked, "Do you want to tell me what the nightmare was about?"

"Not really, no," Eric answered truthfully. "But I might have to anyway."

"The last thing I would do is force you to tell me. You know that, Eric. But you need to decide for yourself if this is affecting you – your life, your sleep, your work – enough to cause negative effects on your environment. I suppose it might, judging from the fact that you actually called me and not the other way around. The question is, are you willing to admit to yourself that this is on its way to becoming a real problem that you can't resolve on your own anymore?"

It wasn't a real question to be answered, more like food for thought, but it hit home. Erics' heart constricted painfully and he drew his legs onto the couch and close to his body as if it would release some of the pressure inside him. He forced his heartbeat to slow down and oxygen in his lungs before he concentrated on the call again. "I'm freaked out," he confessed and sounded the word, too. "I… In my nightmares…" He swallowed, unable to continue.

"Whenever you're ready, Eric," Nate placated. "Take your time." The older man gave him a chance to set his own pace. The psychologist could easily picture the younger man either wearing down the floor boards or cowering on his couch. Either way, he was sure that his friend was a nervous wreck and probably had a hard time getting his thoughts in order. "Just take a deep breath, calm yourself down," he guided him over the phone.

Eric complied and took a few shaky breaths. Deep inhales, slow exhales. "In the nightmare," he started again, "I became my mother. I was the one with Alzheimer's. I was the one unable to remember first little things, then bigger chunks of my memory. I was slipping away from reality, I didn't recognize anyone anymore. It was…"

"Terrifying?" Nate supplied, when Eric suddenly stopped.

"Yeah. I'm beyond tired after a case that dragged out four days in which I haven't even gone home, have a total of no more than five hours of sleep under my belt in almost a week, but my mind won't shut up and now I'm terrified to close my eyes, because when I do the nightmare might return. It's just like seven years ago, only a zillion times worse and… and nothing of the usual seems to work." He was breathing hard after having spoken at way too fast a pace. The words blurred together and left him gasping for breath, but he felt strangely empty once they were out in the open.

There was silence from the other end of the line and the younger man was afraid he might have lost the connection, but just as he was about to ask Nate answered, his voice tinged with an obscure mix of relief and worry. "That's a drastic shift in your nightmares, Eric. I'm honestly glad you opened up about it, because that right there might have some serious repercussions." Eric gulped and remained silent, not in the slightest reassured by the other man's words. "Do you have any idea what might have triggered that? Other than the anniversary yesterday because that certainly never creeped you out enough to cause something that."

The Technical Operator frowned and shifted on his couch, contemplating the question. "I don't know. Maybe?" he answered tiredly after a while. "There have been some unfortunate events surrounding the anniversary. Between the caseload of recent weeks I kind of forgot to make the arrangements for the day. Things like handing in a request for leave and calling my sister about our plans the day before, you know? Needless to say, she was pissed at me. So was I." The crease in his forehead deepened even more. "Do you think it could have caused it?"

"Maybe. Possibly."

"Meaning…?" Eric urged the psychologist to go on. He wanted, no, needed to know the answer to that.

"Meaning, it could have triggered some subconscious fears you might have had in the past. Have you ever been worried about developing symptoms of Alzheimer's before?" The hitch in breath told Nate everything he needed to know, but he awaited verbal confirmation from his friend.

"Yes." The word was barely more than a whisper and the fear and defeat in it were painfully obvious. Eric was unable to suppress a shudder and he curled his toes into the soft material of the couch beneath them in reaction. Simultaneously he gripped the phone even tighter.

Nate sighed on the other end. Even though he couldn't see the younger man he could feel his pain. He wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to be there with him, but that was not an option as of now. Glancing at his watch he realized that he had somewhere to be soon and he would have to end the call within the next five minutes if he wanted to be on time. Sighing once more he said the words that hurt him just as much as they would his conversationalist. "Listen, Eric. The timing couldn't be worse, but I have a debriefing to attend to in little less than half an hour."

The air left Eric's lungs upon hearing those words. Timing couldn't have been worse, indeed. "Okay," he answered in a small, almost childlike voice and it felt on the verge of breaking.

"Eric, I wish I could be physically there to support you right now, I really do. I hate to leave you hanging like this, over the phone no less. You have me worried here and I don't like the idea of you being alone tonight."

A dry chuckle escaped Eric against his will. "Worried I might drown myself out again?" he quipped, but there was no humor in it. "Don't worry. No alcohol in the house and I'm too tired to go out and buy some."

"That's not what I meant, Eric and you know it. I know you won't drink your sorrows away and I know that you don't have a streak for harming yourself either, but your body and your mind need rest desperately. The presence of someone you're close to and feel comfortable with might help you unwind. Is there someone you can call over? Maybe your sister?"

"I don't want to burden her with this," Eric declared with barely any emotion left in his voice.

"What about Nell?" Nate suggested tentatively.

Eric coughed, surprised at the suggestion. He slipped his feet off the couch and sat upright on the edge of the furniture. "Nell? Are you kidding?"

Ignoring the severe reaction on the tech's end, Nate continued. "You two are close, she's your best friend and you feel comfortable around her, right?" he reasoned with the other man.

"I do, but she doesn't know anything about my mother or my nightmares for that matter," he argued forcefully. He was in denial and he knew it, but it didn't matter. He couldn't afford slipping some unwanted information if he started muttering throughout his dreams. That was something he didn't even want to think about right now. Not until he had opened up to her at least.

"She doesn't need to. Nell is your best friend and even if she doesn't know about any of this, she will be there for you all the way. You are just as important to her as she is to you, Eric and I assume that she's most likely concerned about you as well."

"Your right, but… I mean, I know she is concerned about me, but…" he stumbled over his own words, unable to put together a sensible sentence and it annoyed him that his brain wasn't able to supply him with the words he needed. "What am I going to tell her, though?"

Nate sighed on the other end. A glance at his watch told him that he really needed to leave. Somehow he managed to keep the urgency out of his voice though. "Just tell her that you don't want to be alone tonight. That you need someone there with you. She'll understand."

"If you say so," Eric still wasn't convinced.

"I'm terribly sorry, Eric, but I really need to leave now. Promise me you'll call someone, though. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your mom. She wouldn't want you to suffer." His insides clenched and twisted and roiled painfully at the mention of his mother. Nate really knew where to push if he wanted to get his point across.

He nodded to himself, belatedly realizing that the psychologist couldn't see it over the phone, and added a verbal reaction. "I promise." It was quiet, but it was there and he was adamant to keep it. For his mother's sake.

Let me know what you think.

S.