October
Manhattan, New York
"…One month in school and I already get summoned to the dean's office," John, who was wearing a winter coat over jeans and a sweater with his school books and diabetes supplies in his pack, said in an annoyed voice as he and Bosco, who was wearing NYPD winter gear, walked down the street. "I swear I haven't done anything…"
Bosco sighed, "I know that and you know that, but maybe NYU is just curious about you because you took a GED and came there really young," he replied in an encouraging voice. "You're going to be 17 in like a month…"
"I go to classes every day, I come home, I study, I help Mom with the babies, and then I hang out with David and Ellie so you and Mom can have a break," John replied in an incredulous voice. "I also go sit with Uncle Carlos three times a week so his family can go do things that need to get done in the day. I don't have time to cause…"
A glint in the alley suddenly caught John's eye and he moved into the alley to get a closer look, frowning when he saw a pair of shoes stained with blood, blood spatter on the wall, and a wallet in one of the shoes. Grateful that he had chosen to wear gloves that day, John knelt and flipped the wallet open, being careful not to move it.
"Um, Dad, the license says Nick Stokes and there's a CSI ID card in here too," John said in a nervous voice.
Frowning, Bosco got out his cell-phone and quickly dialed 9-1-1, as Las Vegas CSI Nick Stokes had been missing for a month and both the shoes and ID were the first sign of Nick that anyone had seen of him since his kidnapping.
Calle Ocho – Miami, Florida
The sun was barely up, but Tim was already awake, dressed, and was eating breakfast because it was his day to sit with Ryan during the younger man's chemo session. Tim knew that Ryan would need help getting himself ready because the chemo messed with his head in the mornings and he usually found it difficult to get out of bed.
Emily was also awake, but she was inside getting James and Julliet ready for kindergarten and then she was going to go help her oldest brother, Tommy, with his breakfast and morning routine. Tommy had been undergoing mental health therapy for a month and had kept his visitors limited to his siblings and to his wife; he didn't feel like his children would forgive him, so he had been reluctant to have them visit and see him so broken up inside.
A smile crossed Tim's face as he quickly went to check the mail before he left; it was a beautiful day outside.
As Tim opened the mailbox and began sifting through the mail, he suddenly felt as if someone was close by and quickly looked up. Tim's eyes widened as he saw a man limping down the street in bloodstained jeans, a long sleeved shirt that was covered in blood, dirt, and mud, sock feet, and a heavily bloodstained blue lab coat that was tattered at the bottom. The guy's right hand was holding his abdomen while his left hand hung limply by his side and his face and neck were badly bruised and sporting cuts. His eyes were filled with exhaustion and confusion and his dark hair was messy and from what Tim could see, blood from the guy's forehead had seeped into it.
"Hey," Tim called out as the man trudged down the street towards him. "Hey, sir, are you okay?"
The man looked up at Tim in confusion and Tim silently set his mail back in the box and walked over to him. He noticed that the guy was shivering and trying, and failing, to make sense of his current surroundings, "Where am I?" the man suddenly asked in a faint, shaking voice. "I…I feel like I've been walking for a really long time…"
"You're in Calle Ocho, Miami," Tim replied calmly, frowning when the man's legs started giving out. "Whoa!"
Not wanting this poor guy to get any more banged up than he already was, Tim guided him over to his lawn and carefully helped him sit on the dry grass, "Do you have a name, buddy?" he asked in a concerned voice.
The man thought and suddenly looked lost, "I remember someone calling me Nicky," he spoke shakily.
Tim frowned as 'Nicky' doubled over, obviously in pain, "Just stay still, Nicky, and I'm going to call some help for you, all right?" he said in a concerned voice, quickly pulling out his cell-phone and dialing 9-1-1. "Relax."
As Tim sat on the phone, waiting for help to arrive, he was surprised to see Ryan coming down the street fully dressed with a home-blended smoothie in hand. Ryan froze at seeing the battered guy on the lawn, as he looked like the missing CSI that had been featured on the news for the last month, "Hey," he finally said shakily.
"I was on my way over when this guy showed up, Ryan," Tim said calmly. "He says his name is Nicky."
Ryan frowned as 'Nicky' looked at him, clearly unsure about who he was or where he was, "Hey there, Nicky, my name is Ryan Wolfe and the guy on the phone is Tim Speedle," he said, kneeling next to Nicky to keep him calm.
Manhattan, New York
"…Hey, this is John Boscorelli," John said into the phone that his parents got him as a present for university. "My dad and I were on our way to the university when we got sidetracked. We might be a little late for…"
Footsteps approached and John quickly ended the call, figuring that the police would want to talk to him about what he found, "So, you registered for school under your dad's name?" he heard a pleasant voice ask. "That's nice."
John looked up and was surprised to see Mac standing beside him, "Did you want to talk to me about the shoes and the wallet, sir?" he asked in a nervous voice. "I had a meeting at school this morning I'm not gonna make."
Mac smiled, "CSI Danny Messer is processing the area and talking to your dad, but I wanted to talk to you about something else entirely," he said in a kind voice. "You were going to be meeting with me this morning at NYU and I've gotten permission from the dean and your dad to talk to you about this since we're both here."
"I've been working too far ahead of the schedule, I know," John replied apologetically. "I just find the bookwork relaxing and I discuss what I learn a lot with my parents or with Uncle Carlos when I'm helping him out."
Mac looked amused, "The university's well aware of your work habits and I believe they've told you that if you keep up your current pace, you're going to graduate in two years instead of four," he replied gently.
"Um, I haven't told my parents that yet," John replied nervously. "I haven't told anyone that yet."
Shaking his head, Mac cleared his throat, "Actually, I thought you might like to do a co-op at the Crime Lab in conjunction with your studies in Criminalistics," he said calmly. "You're nearly two full semesters ahead in the bookwork and the co-op plus the bookwork will guarantee that you get a Bachelor's in just two years."
John's eyes widened, "Think about it, talk it over with your parents, and let the university know as soon as you decide what you want to do," Mac said calmly. "Now, why don't we go find your dad, hmm?"
Nodding, John followed Mac down the street back to the alley. Bosco was standing on the sidewalk with a uniform while Danny was in the alley behind police tape, quietly collecting everything in evidence bags and vials.
"I noticed the stuff in the alley and I didn't move the wallet, only flipped it open with my glove," John said as he silently removed his glove and handed it to Mac. "I assume you'll want this as part of your evidence."
Mac nodded and accepted the glove, "In the meantime, why not a little lesson?" he asked calmly. "Danny!"
Danny looked up, "Give Trainee Boscorelli a run-down of what you're doing," Mac said in a calm voice.
Bosco grinned with pride as John approached the tape, ducked under, and began to listen to Danny teach.
Mac, meanwhile, got his phone out and dialled a number, "Get me Las Vegas PD," he said grimly.
Calle Ocho – Miami, Florida
"I swear, Calliegh, that's the guy I saw on the news," Ryan said in a low voice as he, Calliegh, Eric, Jesse, and Natalia all stood in a huddle near Calleigh's Hummer. "He calls himself Nicky, but that guy looks a lot like Nick Stokes."
Calleigh nodded, "He…he doesn't seem to remember anything, though," Ryan continued in a worried voice.
"You're late for chemo," Callieigh said in a concerned voice. "If you need to go, we can handle this."
Ryan sighed, "I called and rescheduled it for later," he lied softly. "H is coming back with his nephew today and they don't have phones on that plane Vegas got them, so you'll need all hands on deck right now."
"Okay," Calleigh replied softly. "Just take things at your pace and if you have symptoms, take a break."
Ryan nodded and a faint whimper echoed through the air, "…Hey, it's all right," Tim's voice spoke gently.
The group silently turned to see Tim kneeling on the grass next to 'Nicky' as paramedics did what they could to stabilize the terrified amnesiac before taking him to the hospital. 'Nicky' was laying on the grass, having refused to be strapped to a backboard because it made him claustrophobic, sporting a splint on his left wrist and an oxygen mask on his face. One of the paramedics was feeling around his abdomen and had stopped at the whimper.
"Internal injury," the paramedic reported in a concerned voice. "Sir, you need to be put on a backboard."
Terrified, Nick tried to sit up in an attempt to run, but Tim gently held him down, "Hey, it's okay," Tim said softly.
Nicky sighed softly and nodded, trying his best to relax, "We'll be as gentle as we can," the paramedic promised.
Tim sighed, "I'll stay," he offered, seeing the intense fear in confusion in the guy's eyes. "It's okay, Nicky..."
The front door opened and Rosa, who had gotten a taxi for Emily because the driveway was blocked, came out of the house and came down the driveway, "Timothy, is there anything I can do?" she asked in a worried voice.
"Ryan seems to think this guy resembles a Las Vegas CSI that went missing a month ago," Tim explained softly, watching as the amnesiac guy was carefully secured to a backboard. "Can you call Las Vegas PD about him?"
Rosa nodded, "He looks very frightened, Timothy," she said, eyeing him. "I'll see what Social Services can do in the way of getting him some resources. I don't think he's homeless, but he looks like he's been badly beaten."
"We're ready to go!" a paramedic called out to Tim and Rosa. "Speedle, are you coming with us to Miami-Dade?"
Nodding, Tim smiled at his mother and hurried over to the ambulance, wanting to be of help to the poor guy even if he couldn't help him with the amnesia, "Jesse, Eric, process the grass," Calliegh said calmly. "Natalia…"
"I'll take Ryan and follow the ambulance to the hospital," Natalia said quietly. "I can get his clothes while Ryan sees if he can get his chemo done there. We'll wait around with Tim and see if we can talk to the guy any further."
Calleigh nodded and Ryan mouthed 'thank you' to her as he followed Natalia over to where the vehicles were parked.
Crime Lab – Las Vegas, Nevada
"…The nightmare's always the same," Greg spoke in a shaky voice as he sat on the couch in the office that Ecklie had temporarily given to the counselor he had called to help the CSI's since Nick's abduction a month ago.
Dr. Andrea Pride, a psychologist who had used to work alongside Sara in San Francisco that had moved there after finding living in New Orleans too exhausting despite her brother's love of the wild city, sighed gently, "The shooting's happening and I see Nick being pulled to his feet by his coat collar by some guy with a gun pressed against his head and I call out for him, but he can't hear me," Greg spoke shakily, tears running down his cheeks.
"But, in reality, you were hit with bullets after you called out for Nick," Dr. Pride replied softly. "Right?"
Greg nodded, a sob escaping his throat, "I fell and I phoned Grissom," he said tearfully. "I phoned him as I fell and I was alone because people ran like crazy when the shooting started. I had to clean up what Nick left out and Sara found me on the ground while I was on the phone to Grissom. I think I passed out a couple times from blood loss."
Dr. Pride offered Greg a box of tissues, "The lab's been rebuilt with new stuff, but we're just not the same without Nick around," Greg said, taking a tissue and blowing into it. "His parents and his sisters call up here every week…"
There was a knock at the door, "Buzz off, I've got like ten minutes left!" Greg snapped in an irritated tone.
The door opened and Warrick poked his head in, "Did you just yell at me?" he asked in a concerned voice.
"I…" Greg stammered, shocked at how much his personality had changed. "I…yes…sorry, Warrick."
Warrick nodded patiently, "Grissom wants to see us in his office," he replied softly. "Right now."
"We can talk more later, CSI Sanders," Dr. Pride said calmly. "You may keep the tissue box."
Nodding, Greg cradled the tissue box as he followed Warrick from the room, the stress on his healing leg causing him to walk with a slight limp, "…You're limping again, Greg," Sara commented softly as she joined them.
"I've been working doubles for three weeks," Greg replied tightly. "I'm doing my work and Nick's work."
The trio came into Grissom's office just in time to see Grissom and Brass hang up separate phones, "You've maxed out on your overtime for the next two months, Greg," Grissom said calmly. "You need to take time off."
Greg's eyes went wide, "Am I being fired?" he asked in a shocked voice. "You called a meeting to fire me?"
"No, but you're taking time off," Grissom replied firmly. "You limp almost all of the time when you're walking around here, you don't sleep, and you barely eat. Dayshift says you've practically lived here for three weeks."
Greg looked taken aback, "Brass got a call from NYPD that they found Nick's shoes and his wallet in an alley in Manhattan along with some blood and the CSI's there are processing it," Grissom said in a firm voice.
"So, when are you going to New York to get Nick?" Warrick asked in a worried voice. "Your bag is…"
Grissom sighed, "I…I just got a call from a social worker in Miami who told me that her son, CSI Tim Speedle of the Miami Crime Lab, came across a guy fitting Nick's description walking down a street in Calle Ocho this morning with bad injuries," he explained in a worried voice. "There's a catch, though; the guy has amnesia and only was able to give his name as being 'Nicky'. He was wearing a lab coat from our lab over his clothes…"
"Did you call Nick's parents?" Sara asked in a concerned voice. "They would want to know if it's him."
Grissom shook his head, "Even though it could be him, I want to go and feel out the situation before I sic all sorts of people on him," he replied calmly. "Detective Caine is being flown out to Miami today and Greg and I will be on the plane with him and an escort from NYPD, Detective Flack. Flack should be here any minute to pick us up."
Greg opened his mouth to protest, but Grissom gave him a look, "I broke into your place and got you some stuff together," Grissom said firmly. "It's in my car along with my bag and this is not up for debate. You're going."
"Sara, Warrick, you guys will be getting help from day shift while we're gone," Grissom said calmly.
Greg sighed just as a tech poked their head in, "Some guy named Flack is here," he said in a calm voice.
"Greg, breathe," Grissom said in a calm, but firm voice as he stood up. "Time to go to the airport, Greg."
Miami-Dade University Hospital – Miami, Florida
"…I have your things set up over here, Officer Wolfe," Dr. Loman, who had been told by Mercy Hospital to expect Ryan for a chemotherapy session that day, said in a kind voice as he led Ryan through the emergency room to a small, private exam room that had a bed and a chemotherapy machine. "Your doctor explained things."
Ryan sighed tiredly and removed his jacket, absolutely wiped from the walk from his apartment to the Speedle's house, "Thank you," he replied in a tired voice as he sat on the bed and offered his arm. "I appreciate it."
Dr. Loman nodded and quickly hooked the machine up to Ryan's arm, "If you need anything, the nurse's call button is on the inside of the bedrail," he replied kindly. "The session, as you know, will last three hours and you'll be released only if you have someone to drive you home. You also look a little anemic, so I'll talk to you after."
Ryan nodded and quickly lay down before the symptoms would force him to, "…Hey," a gentle voice said.
"Hi," Ryan spoke in a tired voice, sighing as he saw Calliegh come into view. "Is Speedle's lawn processed?"
Calleigh nodded, "Speedle got the clothes that Nicky was wearing and pictures of the guy's injuries and he sent them back to the lab with Natalia," she replied gently. "He's waiting around to talk to Nicky after surgery."
"I should have told everyone before the shooting at the lab," Ryan replied softly. "I was scared…"
Calleigh sighed gently, "You don't have to be," she said gently. "We're not going to judge you for being sick."
"My mom and sister had breast cancer and now I've got this," Ryan spoke in a tired voice. "It sucks."
Calleigh smiled and gently patted Ryan's arm, "You look exhausted," she spoke gently. "Get some rest."
"Did you find out if Nicky is Nick Stokes?" Ryan asked as he slowly gave into exhaustion and drifted off.
McCarran International Airport – Las Vegas, Nevada
Robert sighed tiredly as he lay on the small bed that was in the back of the medical plane that had been funded and sent from Miami by a private donor. He watched as a nurse hooked up an IV of fluids to his good arm and also gave him a new nasal tube that was hooked to a portable tank of oxygen before covering him with a blanket.
"Are you comfortable, Detective Caine?" the nurse asked kindly, knowing he had been through a lot.
Robert nodded, "Thank you," he replied quietly, exhausted and terribly thin from being in a strange hospital for a month recovering to the point where he could be flown home. "Can…can I be sedated for the flight?"
Horatio, who was sitting in a seat across from the bed, gave his nephew a worried look, "Sedated?" he asked.
"Uncle Horatio, I wouldn't ask for it normally, but everything hurts," Robert explained softly as he closed his eyes simply because deep breathing still took a lot of effort and caused pain. "I'm just so worn down by this."
Horatio nodded and gently brushed his nephew's bangs off of his forehead, "You'll get more recovery and some rehabilitation time at Miami-Dade, don't worry," he said reassuringly. "Would strong painkillers work?"
"Yeah," Robert replied softly. "I'm guessing that Grissom guy wants to talk to me and Flack does too?"
Before Horatio could reply, he heard a tired sigh, "Grissom, I swear I'm fine," a tired voice said.
Leaving Robert in the hands of the flight nurse, Horatio got up and went into the passenger area only to find Flack and Grissom helping a tired looking Greg into a seat, "You suck at lying when you're tired," Grissom replied.
"CSI Sanders, hello," Horatio said calmly, giving Greg a once over. "What are you doing here?"
Grissom buckled Greg in and quickly handed him an opened juice box, "Down it," he ordered firmly. "Greg's been working double overtime for the last three weeks to cover for Nick. He's coming for his mental health."
The flight nurse came out of the back of the plane, "Lieutenant Caine, your nephew's been given pain medication and I gently put his muffs on his ears for the fight, but he is lucid enough for conversation after takeoff," she replied.
"Thank you," Horatio replied calmly, sighing as the nurse prepared to leave. "I was wondering if you had a moment to look over CSI Sanders here. He's been overworking himself since his colleague was abducted a month ago."
Greg sighed softly as the nurse eyed him and quickly checked his vitals, "Lack of proper rest and food can mess with a person's body," the nurse explained calmly. "I would advise getting some rest and proper food."
"And taking your ADHD meds," Grissom spoke up calmly. "I brought them from the apartment."
The nurse silently left the plane and Flack gave Greg a look as he sat down and buckled up, "You know, kid, skipping meds can mess a person up," he said in a quiet voice, watching as Grissom handed Greg his pack.
"I'm going to sit with my nephew during takeoff," Horatio said as he moved into the back. "Excuse me."
Grissom took a seat next to Greg, watching closely as the younger man found his meds and took them, wondering when someone was going to actually tell Horatio about the huge mess that was waiting for them in Miami.
Miami-Dade University Hospital – Miami, Florida
Blurry figures filled 'Nicky's' vision as he opened his eyes, still groggy from the anesthesia that he had been put under to get his spleen out and fix his arm and wrist. He blinked again and his vision corrected itself, "You're…Tim Speedle, right?" he asked in a groggy voice, eyeing Tim and Callieigh. "Who…who's your pretty friend?"
Calliegh smiled, "My name is Callieigh Duquesne," she replied calmly. "I'm with the Miami Crime Lab."
"The first thing I can remember is Tim Speedle asking me if I was okay," 'Nicky' replied groggily. "I can't…"
Tim sighed, "I'd like you to talk to my wife when you've rested a bit," he replied calmly. "She's a psychologist with the Miami PD and she's really good. Maybe she can bring you some peace and help you remember things."
"If…if you think that might help, Officer," 'Nicky' replied in a tired voice. "I…I see your police badges…"
Tim nodded, "Nicky, you said you'd been walking a while," he said calmly. "Do you know from where?"
'Nicky' sighed as he laid in bed with his left arm and wrist repaired, casted, and bound to his chest in a shoulder sling while a bandage sat wrapped around his head, holding a piece of gauze over a stitched forehead wound. A very large bandage sat over staples that covered his abdomen after his spleen had been removed. Bad cuts and bruises covered most of his body and face and so IV's, feeding and oxygen tubes were sustaining him while cardiac electrodes, and a pulse-ox clip were monitoring his vitals. A clean gown covered his body and he was wrapped in warm blankets to get his body temperature stable, but his recovery would be very slow and precarious.
"A lot of green stuff like grass and leaves," 'Nicky' finally spoke quietly. "Clicking sounds were in my ears…"
Tim frowned, "Like a gun?" Calleigh asked in a gentle voice, wondering if 'Nicky' had been threatened by a gun.
"I…It might have been a gun," 'Nicky' replied in a groggy voice. "I...I woke up surrounded by green stuff…"
The monitor blipped and 'Nicky' sighed sleepily, fighting to stay awake, "I…I'm sorry," he spoke groggily.
"It's okay," Calleigh replied in a reassuring voice, knowing the guy was definitely traumatized and might or might not fully recover his memory even after his injuries healed. "You've just had major surgery, so you're tired."
'Nicky' sighed and silently drifted off into a deep sleep, "I'm gonna stick around for a bit," Tim said as he sat down in a chair near the bed. "Emily's here doing some casual counseling and maybe she can talk to this guy later on."
Nodding, Calleigh left the room and smiled when she saw Eric lingering in the hallway, "Natalia and Jesse are still processing the guy's clothes at the lab, so it might be a while," he explained softly. "How's 'Nicky' doing?"
"It's definitely either amnesia caused by multiple blows to the head or intense trauma," Callieigh replied in a concerned voice. "Nicky's obviously suffered some sort of trauma or torture and he can only remember clicking sounds in his ears and waking up surrounded by grass or leaves. He doesn't know how he got to over to Tim's."
Eric sighed, "Did someone tell Emily about him?" he asked softly. "She might be able to help him somehow."
"Speedle's gonna wait around and talk to her when she's done her casual rounds," Calleigh replied softly.
Eric nodded, "Oh, by the way, Ryan's downstairs in the ER doing his chemo in case you were wondering if he made his appointment," Calleigh said as they moved down the hallway. "He should be done in about 2 hours or so."
"I'll look in on him," Eric promised, this whole experience reminding him how lucky he was with his recovery.
Manhattan, New York
Danielle sighed softly as she tucked Michael and Emily into their cribs for their morning naps after feeding them through bottles, "Sleep well," she whispered, sighing as she heard the door open and close. "Hello?"
Silence filled the room and Danielle went into the living room, smiling when she saw Bosco and John, "How'd your meeting with the dean go?" she asked in a kind voice. "I'm hoping that it was to talk about your brilliance."
"Never made it over to NYU this morning," John replied softly. "I found a wallet and some shoes in an alley and ended up calling the cops about it. It turns out that the wallet and shoes belong to Uncle Nick from Vegas."
Danielle's eyes widened, "Your Uncle Nick's been missing for a month," she replied softly. "Are you sure?"
"The wallet had Nick Stokes's driver's license in it, Dani," Bosco replied softly. "I was right there."
Danielle looked surprised, "Um, Mom, I actually got to have a conversation with Detective Taylor while CSI Danny Messer was processing the area," John said in a quiet voice. "Detective Taylor wants me to consider doing a co-op through the New York Crime Lab along with my schoolwork. It means I might get field and lab training."
"What about your schoolwork at the university, John?" Danielle asked as the apartment door opened and Sully and Yelina came in with some baby things and groceries. "Do you really have time for bookwork and practical?"
John suddenly looked nervous, "I'm almost two semesters ahead on all the bookwork cause of all the studying I do at school, home, and when I'm hanging out with Uncle Carlos," he replied in a pleased voice. "I've been told by the university that the way I'm going, I could end up having my Bachelor's in two years. If I do the co-op, I will get it..."
Sully and Yelina looked amused and delighted, "Dani, this is one of our super-genius sons wanting to make a difference in the world," Bosco said in an enthusiastic voice, grinning with pride. "Isn't this awesome?"
Danielle chuckled and joined Sully and Yelina in giving John hugs, delighted by how he was being blessed.
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