CSI: Braden Sanders-Stokes: Moving Forward

A/N: Hi all! I just want to inform you that the stories I mentioned in my last A/N may be found on either ff(dot)net, nickandgreg(dot)com AKA What Makes The Desert Beautiful (WMTDB), or both. So, if you're having problems finding any of them, that's probably why.

Summary: The loss of a deeply loved member of the family rocks the Sanders-Stokes lives in ways they never thought possible. Braden is sixteen in this, the fifteenth chapter.

"No Nick! You're never here! That's why the dishes have been piling up!" Greg's face turned an angry shade of red that almost matched the kitchen towel in his hand.

"Well, I'm not the only one who's been constantly maxing out on overtime!" Nick shot back, his ire rising to new heights it hadn't seen in a long time.

"You're the one who promised Braden driving lessons! So don't you pin this on me. It's not my fault you haven't had the time to take him out yet."

"What's that supposed to mean? So it's my fault I don't have time to teach him to drive? Are you telling me work doesn't matter? Do you want me to quit? Is that what you're telling me? Greg, you know we need our combined income to survive here. We're working for the city, they're not just gonna suddenly pay you millions to work for them just because I quit to spend more time with Braden!"

"Time out! What the hell are you getting at, Stokes? I didn't blame you for anything. But it sure sounded like you were blaming me for something I have no control over." Greg took a deep breath and stepped back toward the kitchen sink. "I know work's been extra tough lately. But I also know that you've been taking overtime even when you didn't have to. We both have. And it's been getting to us. All of Braden's friends have already gotten their learner's permits and he's feeling a little left out. That's all. You promised him on his birthday and I just don't want anything to get in the way of that promise. You know he won't remind you, so I am. Ok? Can we just get over this and let it go? We're arguing over nothing."

Nick slumped into a nearby kitchen chair, his tired eyes finding the linoleum on the floor a nice pattern to stare at. Already his shoulder was acting up again. He hadn't had any problems with it in over a year and he'd begun to think it would be ok. But now he knew he'd been wrong.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You're right. It's just... this place seems so empty... and I don't like coming home to an empty house. It's been such a long time... since it was empty like this. I don't know what to do, I guess."

"You're not alone in feeling that way. You know that, right?"

Nick hung his head, grimacing, as a muscle pulled a little in his shoulder, aggravating his old bullet wounds.

"It may seem like an empty place. But we've got each other. The three of us have never been alone."

"Yeah, no, you're right. I just... that feeling won't go away. I don't know how to make it stop."

"These things take time, Nicky. It's only been two weeks."

"I know how long it's been! You don't have to remind me!"

Greg turned and left the room.

"Where are you going?"

Nick didn't get a response as his husband walked down the hall. He thought he heard footsteps on the stairs, but he wasn't sure. He let his head fall into his hands on the table. He really had blown it this time. He did need to work on his temper. He didn't like yelling and screaming, but sometimes, the urge just wouldn't go away. For sure, now Greg was hiding up in their room, waiting until he calmed down to emerge. And knowing Greg, it might be a long while before he deemed it safe to return to the kitchen, or even the first floor in general.

He was surprised when a bottle of his shoulder cream thumped down hard on the table. Looking up, Greg was standing next to him, a pointed expression on his face.

However, his voice was soft when he spoke, "Come on, shirt off."

Greg tugged on the hem of his black t-shirt and helped him out of the fabric keeping him trapped in its folds. He then went to work massaging the knots and tension out of his shoulder.

Braden chose that moment to come home from school, his heavy back pack weighing down his right shoulder. He wore a bright sunny smile until he saw the state of affairs in the kitchen. His smile flipped into a frown and he headed upstairs without a word.

Greg continued to work on his shoulder, working his fingers hard into the tight flesh, making Nick grunt with his effort. It hurt, but he knew he would feel better in the end.

Once his husband had his shirt back on he reached around from behind and gave him a warm hug.

"Now, go talk to him."

"We didn't even know it was coming," Braden said as Nick steered his truck toward the school parking lot.

"What are you talking about?"

"Comet. That's what's been going on. I know. It came as a surprise. One day she's up and running around... and the next..."

His son had a faraway look in his eyes when Nick glanced over but he didn't know what to say.

"Life's so different now, without her. There were so many things we used to do. We'd take her on walks in the morning before school, then at night before going to bed. And now she's not here, so we don't do it."

"We still could." It was Nick's weak attempt at a somewhat normal conversation. And it fell flat.

"Remember my first day of school?" Braden suddenly asked.

"Ummm... what about it?"

"When I got on the bus, I saw you with Comet. You looked so sad, hugging her like that."

"I..." After all these years he never knew Braden had seen him clinging to the dog for dear life.

"Nobody else had looked so sad when I'd left them before, so I knew things would turn out ok. I knew you wouldn't let me go."

Nick cleared his throat, trying to find something to say, but nothing came to mind.

"Remember the first time she saw an animal in the backyard? And she tried to crash through the window because we hadn't taught her yet that she couldn't? And both you and Dad had to hold her back while I closed the curtain so she wouldn't try to chase it?"

This brought out a sweet chuckle. At the poor dog's expense they'd spent the rest of the night laughing over her mistake, then teaching her that the glass was solid and she wouldn't be able to go through it.

"Yeah, I remember that."

As they neared the school parking lot Nick had been planning to use for Braden's driving lessons, he quickly changed his mind and made a left turn away from the school. He drove through the residential streets, watching the children play in their front yards before their parents called them in for dinner.

Braden kept bringing up the fond memories they had of their dear departed friend and close family member. Nick had had pets die before, back when he'd been living with his parents, but they hadn't been house pets and he'd never been as close to them as he had been to Comet. This was all new territory for him, and he'd been surprised at how easily the death of a dog could disrupt his life and that of his family. He'd grown so used to Comet bounding into the hallway to greet him everyday when he came home, that to suddenly have it stop, didn't seem right at all.

"I know what you're thinking," Braden said. "Jimmy doesn't have a dog. But he said the other day that it would be weird coming over to hang out if she wasn't there. She's always been there. And now she's not. I tried to explain that fifteen is old for a dog, but I don't think he got it."

"Speaking of Jimmy, how is he?" Nick asked, looking for an escape from their previous conversation into something he knew he had words for. "You two haven't been hanging out much after school, have you?"

"It just feels weird. Jimmy's sorta going out with Violet, but I really don't know. Jimmy says they are. She says they're not. But he says they went out on a few dates, and he wants to hang out with her as much as possible."

"What about your other friends? Don't you want to hang out with them?"

"Kris has a new boyfriend. Dave's pretty cool, I guess. At least he's nice and doesn't ask why I don't have a girlfriend. But I know Jimmy wants to know."

"Why don't you ask Patty out? I thought you liked her?"

"She's too shy and quiet. Besides, she's my friend. And she'd probably say 'no' anyway."

"How do you know? Greg and I were friends for several years before he asked me out and I said yes even though I was unsure of the whole thing."

"Why were you unsure?"

"We're coworkers. That usually gets in the way of things, badly. I didn't want a relationship, which might or might not turn out good, to ruin my career or our friendship at work."

"But it didn't."

"You're right. It didn't. And I'm glad I gave your father the chance. If I hadn't..."

That was a thought Nick didn't want to think about.

"Is it really that scary?" his son asked.

Braden must have seen his facial expression, the one he wanted to hide from the world.

"When you find someone like that, then you'll understand. And if you don't, then you haven't found the right person."

They were quiet for awhile as Nick continued to drive aimlessly. He'd had a destination in mind, but now, it felt good to spend the time just talking, getting things said he knew other parents couldn't, or wouldn't, talk about with their children.

"Life's not all about love, you know. Maybe you should figure out what you want to do with your life first, before you think about love. Right now, that's all you seem to think about. And you know, you don't have to get married soon, or at all. There are lots of people who stay single their entire lives. I once knew a beautiful ninety year old woman who'd never been kissed before."

"Yeah, but, how do you and Dad do it."

"Do what?"

"Well, you fell in love, didn't you? I mean, you're not like other parents. Violet's dad got AIDS and when her mom found out she left them. She left Violet to care for her father until he died. She hasn't seen her mother since. But that's just one side. Other parents just seem to be mad at each other all the time. If they're not, I never hear them talk about love, the way you two do. They don't seem to care about each other much. They don't hold hands all the time, or stare into each other's eyes."

"And how would you know all this?"

"I just do. Well, my friends and I were talking about it. They were surprised that you two still seem so close. So, how is that?"

"I don't know, Braid. We're just lucky, I guess. Or maybe it's the fact that we both had to overcome so much to be together that it changes how you look at life. There were so many times when we almost lost each other, when one of us almost died, never mind all the protests and counter-protests at work when we finally tied the knot. Going through all that... it changes a person. I'm not afraid to say what I think anymore. And I'm not afraid to show my love in public. I still love your father very much and I don't care who knows it. I want to live my life to its fullest, because you never know when the end might come."

"So, wait, first you tell me to wait, grow up, get a life, then find a girlfriend. And now you're telling me not to wait. I'm confused."

"No, that's not what I meant," Nick said as he finally pulled into the spacious elementary school parking lot and took note of all the empty curb space perfect for teaching a young driver how to parallel park for the first time.

"When you know what you want, go for it. But if you don't, then hang back for a bit. As soon as your father was able to pull me out of the proverbial closet kicking and screaming, I knew what I wanted and there was no going back. I had one boyfriend and several girlfriends before I met Greg and none of them felt right. So, I waited. I worked on my career, finally found my calling, and stumbled right into Greg at the same time."

"This is such a weird conversation."

"Hey, you asked."

"I know. But at least it's better than the whole stork conversation you tried to feed me when I was twelve. Now that was awkward."

"No. What was awkward about that was the question about how Greg and I could make babies and were we planning on it."

"And that squicks me out. Change of subject!"

"Um... that's the gas... that's the break... the peddle to my right, I mean. That's the gas. The one to my left left..."

"I know Da."

"Sorry." There was a pause. "Well, now that we're here, maybe we should switch places. So you can learn to drive."

"About... about what I wanna do..." Braden suddenly looked uncomfortable, his face twisting as he turned away from Nick. "I thought... well... see... I was thinking of being an editor or something..."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"But... see... I went to the library the other day... and... I did some research... I found out about my real... about my biological parents."

That stopped Nick cold and he watched his son with caution, wondering how he'd taken the news about what had happened. He and Greg had determined it best to let him know he was adopted, but not go into too many specifics as to why he'd been put in a foster home until he asked. They doubted he remembered anything about the attack he'd witnessed, even though it's effects on him had been lasting.

"I know how they died," Braden continued, struggling to get the words out in the open. "My Mom was probably really nice. I wish she hadn't died. So I could have known her. My Dad... I just don't know. They said it was stress from work and getting laid off. I guess I wish that hadn't happened too. Maybe he woulda been nice if the stress hadn't gotten to him. You know?"

Nick nodded his head, but wasn't too aware of what he was doing. They were not having this conversation. They were so not having this conversation without Greg. He needed someone's hand to hold. He was a grown man, but he needed Greg there to hold his hand for this. And he wasn't afraid to admit it, in his mind at least.

"But... Da... please don't take that the wrong way..."

Braden was now looking at him, with those eyes that seemed to know what he was feeling and he realized he was gripping the steering wheel with one hand. His knuckles were white.

"You and Dad... I... I wouldn't trade you for... well, I mean... I wish I'd known my real parents, but... you are my real parents. And I'm not changing that. At all. I guess I'm just glad that at least I was adopted because they died and not because they didn't want me. You know? And, I couldn't have ended up in a better place."

Nick understood what his teenaged son was having difficulty saying. He did his best to hold the tears back, not wanting to embarrass Braden.

"My... father... was a magazine editor. Now that I know that... I don't know if I want to do that. Be an editor."

"It's not a bad profession to go into," Nick said, relief washing over him at the change of conversation. "And there's always newspapers and websites that need editors. Not just magazines. If you're thinking of editing, why not writing? You could write articles for some of the local papers."

"I'd rather stay behind the scenes. We... we had to do a report on the type of job we thought we wanted in school last year and I choose that... but there's so much work to do walking around town just to get a story. And so many people to talk to. I want an office where I can close the door. You know? Like, maybe I should be a DJ. Then I only have to talk to other people on the phone. For the most part anyway. But then I was thinking about how much I like dogs... and maybe I should become a vet. I can talk to dogs, no problem."

"Yeah, I know. Comet was always easy to talk to. Well, think about it. There are plenty of other options out there. You got good biology grades last year, and chem is looking good..."

"Da... can you just teach me to drive now?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let me just call your father so he doesn't start to worry."

A/N: Is anyone going to WriterCon this year? I am! And we need more people from the CSI verse going! In case you don't know, it's a conference on writing fanfiction! The panels this year look great. You should check it out! Www(dot)writercon(dot)com.