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CHAPTER 5

The following day, Catherine and Grissom both headed back to the hospital at the end of their grave shift. It was nearly ten in the morning and, despite being over tired themselves, they needed to go check up on their friend. Jillian Stokes looked refreshed after a good nights sleep at their hotel but the strain of seeing her son suffer was clearly taking a toll. She had checked out that morning and they were going to use Nicks townhouse as base for their remaining time in Vegas.

Roger Stokes looked haggard with exhaustion. Nick was not much better. By all accounts it had been a rough night. Nick had been unable to sleep more than half an hour here and there. He was troubled with recurrent nightmares and bursts of panic causing him to cry out - terribly hoarse from a combination of the screaming during his hostage ordeal and the endotracheal tube down his throat for the following 24 hours - and to fight to sit upright, tangling in the sheets and cardiac leads. His father had been up and down to him all night, hugging him and reassuring him. He had ended up lying on the edge of the bed with his son resting in the crook of his shoulder, safely bundled in his fathers embrace. It hadn't helped Nick sleep, but it did give him the security and comfort he desperately needed. The comfort they both needed.

Jillian was taking over for the day shift while her husband left the hospital to try and sleep.

Nick was cranky and frustrated, the stress of his ordeal coupled with a desperate need for quality sleep taking their toll. He had endured a bed bath which he found humiliating and he hid his embarrassment with more anger - directed at no-one in particular. The bites which covered the length and breadth of his body were itchy and several of the sites were now open wounds from unconscious scratching and the friction caused from Nicks body moving against the sheets. The general pain from his wounds were mostly covered by the narcotics pumping through his veins but the bite from the open wounds stung him every time he moved. The pain relievers though were also making him feel dizzy and he found he couldn't think straight. He was, in short, miserable.

Catherine and Grissom tried to generate conversation with the Stokes' but Nick was finding it difficult to follow conversations and his radiating hostility was off-putting to all. He fidgetted and tossed and turned - trying and failing to get comfortable. Jillian was up and down trying to help him - fluffing his pillows, stroking his hair and laying a hand against his forehead when she felt the warmth of his skin. The attending nurse took his temperature and dosed him with paracetamol to combat the emerging low grade fever. His mother tried to settle him again and was rewarded with a hiss of pain and a scowl when she tried to readjust the bed clothes only to have the sheet catch on a couple of partially healing wounds and opened them up again.

Jillian was doing it tough. She hadn't seen her youngest child in nearly 9 months and had gone through the living hell of his abduction. His anger towards her was the final straw. Her eyes welled as she sat back in the chair.
Guilt mixed with the ever present anger and he dug his fingers into his eye sockets.

Catherine couldn't stand it any longer. She pushed herself up from the chair and put a hand on Jillians shoulder "Lets go get a coffee." she said quietly, "It'll give everyone a break." Jillian nodded, not wanting to give in to her tears in front of Nick - she knew his hostility was not personal, but it didn't dull the hurt.

When they had gone, Grissom sat watching Nick for a few moments. His fingers remained pushed into his eyes until his mother left then came away, the palm of his hand resting firmly on his forehead for a moment before dropping down across his chest.

Grissom raised an eyebrow as he continued to watch him. "Nick?" he asked quietly. Nick continued to look up at the ceiling, making no indication that he had even heard his name.

Grissom sighed and pushed himself up from the chair, moving to stand at the end of the bed and holding the foot rail. Nick took a couple of hitching breaths and turned his head to one side. Grissom placed a hand on Nicks foot and squeezed. More tears pricked at the corner of Nicks eyes and he punched his fists down on the mattress in angry frustration. He did it again. His hands gripped a wad of bed clothes on either side of his body and he squeezed so hard his knuckles turned almost white. His eyes closed tight - the healing bites on the tender skin on his temples and eyebrows pulled as he squeezed them shut. Despite his desperate attempt, salty tears pushed their way out of the corner of his eyes and tracked along his cheek. His nose started to run and his shoulders started to shake as he fought a losing battle to control his breathing. Grissom moved to the side of the bed and sat down placing a strong hand against Nicks shoulder and squeezing.

"Its OK to get angry, Nick." he said gently. Nick punched the mattress again. "Nick. Listen to me. Get angry. Get as angry as hell. But not at your family. Not at us. Get angry that it happened and then let it go." Nick didn't move. His breathing calmed though as he listened to Grissoms words and his eyes slowly opened. "Nicky, don't let it destroy you. Don't take it with you."

There was silence for several long moments before Grissom heard his colleagues worn out, hoarse voice, barely above a whisper - "How?" he asked simply a hand coming up to swipe at the tear tracks.

Grissom forced a smile which he hoped indicated the confidence he didn't necessarily feel - he was, after all, no counsellor. Hell, he was barely social! But Nick was in need of a friend and, for the first time in years, he desperately needed a mentor - someone he could rely on and trust. Someone to guide him. He needed Grissom.

Grissom squeezed his shoulder gently again as he replied. "We'll help you Nick. You don't have to do this alone."

Nick continued to stare at the wall. He looked beyond exhausted.

"Nick?"

Nick turned his head back to look at his boss - the first eye contact he had made since Grissom had arrived. He was a changed man. Grissom saw it in his eyes.

"You can talk to me, Nick. Anytime."

"Thankyou." Grissom barely heard the reply.

Catherine listened as Jillian debriefed through two skinny lattes - how she missed Nick living in Texas, how she worried about her youngest child, how she feard for his life and how helpless she felt both during his abduction and now he was back. She cried with the pain of watching him struggle with the panic attacks - the raw terror in his pre-waking moments.

Catherine listened and comforted - mother to mother. More than anything, she reinforced to Jillian not to take Nicks hostility personally. He was letting his guard down to the people he loved most in the world. His family.

Coffeed and cried out Jillian and Catherine headed back up to Nicks room.

Grissom was sitting in a chair close to the bed. Nick was curled up on his side, securely tucked up beneath the bedsheet and blanket and fast asleep. His breathing was deep and even and he looked peaceful - so different from the previous few hours.

Catherine and Jillian both gazed at him momentarily - amazed at the transformation.

Grissom smiled at them.

Job done, it was time to go home and get some sleep.

Sorry guys - this chapter was a bit of a quick one. Not a lot of thought went into it. I do apologise for a few spelling mistakes in previous chapters too - I hadn't proof read them before I submitted them - just wanted to get them out there! I hope you're enjoying this and, yes again, please review. Please. And many, many thanks for all those who have reviewed already and continue to review each new chapter.