Just
to make it very, very clear - I do not own the rights to anything CSI
- no characters, no existing story lines, nothing. Some of this story
has been taken directly from Grave Danger - so all credit for these
parts to Quentin Tarentino and CSI script writers - definitely not
me. So please, don't sue me. I'm already poverty stricken! Absolutely
clear? CSI - not mine.
CHAPTER 14
Grissom pulled into Nicks driveway and was surprised when
he came out of his house and locked the door before Grissom had even
cut the engine. It was clear in Nicks body language and tense
demeanour that he just wanted to go and get the visit over with. He
sat heavily in the passenger seat and flicked a quick glance at
Grissom as he fastened his seat belt.
"Thanks again for
doin' this, Gris."
Grissom looked at him, taking in his
tired eyes and noting the slight tremor in his hands, which had
reappeared during the morning as he had waited for Grissom to arrive.
Despite being acutely aware of being scrutinised, Nick steadfastly
refused to meet his mentors gaze and instead concentrated on taking
deep breaths and calming himself as much as possible to prepare for
what was ahead.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
asked Grissom quietly.
Nick groaned softly and held his hands
tightly together in order to at least try to minimise the shakes.
"Yes." he answered.
Grissom kept an eye on him a
moment longer before restarting the engine and muttering "OK,
let's get going, then." and reversing out of the drive.
It
was a very quiet trip.
Nick was deep in thought the entire drive
and Grissom respected his need for silence.
Every now and then
Grissom would cast a glance in his direction - Nick sat staring
pensively out of the passenger side window.
Finally, they arrived
at the Women's State Penitentiary and Grissom pulled into a parking
spot. He cut the engine and waited for Nick to move. It took several
long moments but, eventually, Nick roused himself, scrubbed his hands
across his face and grabbed his jacket from the back seat. He wrung
it between his hands before reaching for the handle and opening the
door. He paused a second more and Grissom could almost see the
internal struggle going on inside.
"Do you want me to come
in with you?" asked Grissom quietly.
Nick shook his head and
pushed to his feet.
"No, it's OK. I'll be OK."
His
accent was very strong. It was always a good barometer of how
stressed he was.
Grissom gave a gentle smile.
"I'll wait
out here then." said Grissom as Nick nodded in reply. He watched
as the younger man closed the door and headed towards the prisons
entrance. He thought about the old Nick, the Nick who had always worn
his emotions on his sleeve. The Nick who had exuded the confidence of
an ex-star college footballer while maintaining the vulnerability and
sensitivity of his childhood. Grissom suddenly questioned whether he
had made a mistake in supporting Nicks decision to go to the prison.
The new Nick was even more vulnerable now - even more sensitive to
pain - and the once ever-present confidence had been missing ever
since they had found him, frightened and near-death, in that damned
coffin.
Grissom was out of the vehicle before his brain caught up
with him.
Nick had made the decision himself. He had had plenty
of time laying in the hospital bed to think about it and had made the
choice himself. He was in sound mind and had stood by his decision
and defended it against a barrage of criticism. Maybe, thought
Grissom, the confidence hadn't disappeared altogether. Maybe it was
still there - albeit buried deep.
"Nick." he called
out. Nick was nearly at the entrance but heard him and turned around,
raising his eyebrows in question - but too far away for Grissom to
see.
"Remember," he continued, "Don't take it with
you, OK?"
Nick smiled and nodded slightly.
"Thanks,
Gris." he called back and turned to head into the prison.
Grissom watched him go, sighed deeply and went to sit and wait
back in the SUV.
Nick registered at the front entrance, hands
shaking so much his signature looked foreign even to him, then
followed the warden into the visitors centre - taking the seat behind
the glass assigned to him. He could feel the knots in his stomach
tighten and squirm even more as he waited. His palms started to sweat
and he grabbed his jeans, partly to dry his hands but mostly to try
and control the tremors.
Suddenly, there she was.
The woman
who was involuntarily responsible for all of the fear and pain and
angst of the last month. The woman who had been a victim of
unfortunate circumstances - who had ultimately caused Nick to become
a victim of unfortunate circumstances as well.
Nick felt his
pulse rate increase at the sight of her and felt tears pricking at
the corner of his eyes. He took a deep breath - determined to keep
his emotion at bay and raised a hand in a wave - indicating to Kelly
to pick up the phone so they could talk. Reluctantly, and oozing
attitude, Kelly picked up the receiver.
"You the one?"
she asked matter-of-factly.
Nick couldn't stop the choked laugh
that escaped him. It hadn't been what he had expected but it
certainly broke the ice.
"Yeah," he replied, "Yeah,
back at ya."
Kelly continued to watch Nick - not sure why he
had come - as she asked, "What do you want me to say? I'm
sorry?"
"Nah," said Nick, "You didn't do
anything to me. And what you're Dad did...I guess its 'cos he loves
you so much."
Kelly had suddenly had enough. She had arrived
expecting a guilt trip, an apology for the actions of her father and
she had already planned her response - she wasn't going to take
responsibility for what he had done. But when this stranger arrived
and started talking about how much her father had loved her - how he
had tortured and nearly killed him out of 'love' for her - she could
stand it no longer. She hung up the phone in disgust. At the comment.
At her father.
"Hey, Kelly. Kelly!"
Nick hadn't
told her what he had came here to say yet.
"Pick it up."
The emotion in his voice was like a hook and Kelly found herself
meeting his eyes. Shit. Tears. She couldn't handle guys with tears.
Despite her better judgement, she picked up the phone again.
Nick tried to keep it together - at least until he had said what
he needed to say.
He tried again.
"In a few
years....when you get out of here........don't take it with you."
A single tear made its way down his right cheek - almost an
unconscious emphasis on his words. The two sat staring at each other
between the glass partition. Strangers united through fate.
Kelly
was the first to break the moment.
"That's it?" she
asked, trying to sound aloof and failing.
Nick sighed.
"Yeah,
yeah. That's it."
Kelly hung up the phone and glanced at
Nick one last time.
"We're done." she called out to the
guard, pushing herself out of the chair and walking away.
Nick
sighed deeply again, a weight had suddenly been lifted off his
shoulders despite the frustration of Kelly's brush off.
He gave a
slight chuckle and raised his eyebrows as he repeated Kelly's parting
words to him.
"That's it."
It seemed so easy. That
was it. Everything he had been through was over. That was that. Life
goes on.
Somehow, Nick suspected it wasn't going to be as easy as
that. His journey would continue for many years to come.
He wiped
a hand across his nose and whispered to himself once more "That's
it." - a reinforcement to himself.
Pushing himself out of
the chair, he headed to the exit.
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